I kept my promise, sneaking out of her place just before dawn.
I was tired but as I lay there in my bed, I couldn’t find sleep.
She was doing something to me and I either didn’t know what it was or didn’t want to admit it. Either way, Laurel was getting to me more and more each time I was around her.
It still didn’t do a man a damn bit of good when she seemed so hell-bent on pushing me away more than not.
I decided to take some time for myself. The next few days I stayed away. It was hard.Iwas hard, jacking off like four times a damn day. It was like I was fourteen again. I was a man, I should have more control over myself. I wasn’t about to be led around by my dick even if was by myself. But it seemed I couldn’t help it. Every time I thought about her. Every time I opened my nightstand and saw a box of condoms, and that was just downright sad.
Four days later, I found myself standing outside her door with a salad and a turkey sandwich, knocking with hesitation because I wasn’t sure which Laurel I would get.
She opened the door and eyed me.
“I know, what am I doing here, right?” I said with a smirk because she asked me that just about every time I showed up unexpectedly.
It looked like I took the wind out of her sails the moment I said it. But maybe in a good way.
“Let me guess,” she said cocking her hip out and resting her hand there. “Couldn’t stop thinking about me? Or are you just bored of your… biker groupies or whatever they’re called.”
“The first one,” I said pushing my way inside. “But the second is true too.” I couldn’t help adding it because I knew it would get under her skin. The only reason they had become such a bore was because of her, but there was no way I’d let her know that.
“Fine, come in,” she said after the fact. “But I’m only letting you in because it looks like you have food. And I don’t have much here.”
“What is it, don’t know how to find your way to the grocery store or have no idea how to do your own shopping?” It was an asshole comment, I knew it the moment it left my lips.
By the narrowed eyes I knew it was going to be a fight kind of night. Yeah, maybe that was what I had been pushing for.
She opened the bag, ignoring me for now. I knew it was coming, though.
“Oh, you got a salad. I didn’t think bikers knew what lettuce was.”
“I had no idea,” I said with a shrug, playing the dick she wanted me to be. “I just asked the girl there what skinny chicks ordered and that’s what she sent me along with. Oh, and her number.” I pointed to the top of the bag where there was clearly a handwritten number there with the name Tiffany under it.
Hey, I didn’t ask for it.
And I sure as hell had no plans on using it. But Laurel didn’t need to know that.
She fumed. I could see it. There was almost steam coming out of her ears but she tried her best to play it off.
“What if I don’t want a salad, then? You just assume I’m like every other thin woman out there?”
“Then have the turkey sandwich,” I said as I pulled it out and plopped it down on the counter right in front of her.
Then for shits and giggles, I poured the light vinaigrette dressing over the salad and started eating.
Her mouth dropped open in stunned shock.
I ignored it and took another large bite.
She had no choice but to eat the sandwich now. Which wasn’t such a bad thing. I figured that would be much better for her than a bunch of lettuce and some limp cucumbers.
I watched as she took a defiant bite. Then she moaned. Which I couldn’t blame her. It smelled fucking amazing and I was a little jealous that I’d given it up. I ate my salad in silence.
“Want a bite?” she asked sweetly as she held it out in front of my face.
I looked into her eyes as I finished the first half off. Then I held out the fork which was loaded down with salad. She wrapped those sweet lips around the tines and pulled away so slowly. It was all I could do to hold back a groan.
Then oddly enough the games stopped. We traded off bites of the food until it was all gone. It was weird feeding her like that but only because I’d never done such a thing with anyone, ever. Somehow standing there in her so-called kitchen area, I’d done something I would have considered too domesticated and lovey-dovey for my taste. Only it didn’t feel so bad with her.
