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“That girl who was here gave him to you?”
“Yeah. She volunteers at some pet rescue or something. I don’t really pay attention.”
“Why would she give you a blind kitten?” I wonder again if maybe something is going on between them. Giving someone a pet is kind of an intimate gift.
He fills two plates with rice and chicken and carries them over to the table. “She thought he would help me. At least, that’s what she said.”
“Help you with what?”
“Grief, I think. Go sit down.” I know he’s dismissing the conversation to avoid talking about it. I want him to tell me who he’s grieving and how long it’s been for him. I want to dig deep into him, as he plans to do to me. I wonder if he feels the endless agony of loss that I do and if it tears his heart out every time he thinks of her.
I want to know if he views the future as an empty pit of darkness like I do now.
Vandal
She’s staring off into space and doesn’t even look at me when I sit down at the table. From the expression in her eyes I can tell she’s thinking about him. Not me. She’s slipped away from me again, even without walking off.
I cut the chicken on her plate into small pieces. “Your eyes should always be on me when I enter the room,” I tell her. “And I should be the only man you think about.”
She turns her head suddenly, as if she just realized I was there. “Huh?”
“I’m telling you what I expect and need.”
She nods absently and looks down at her plate. “Thank you for making dinner.”
“Don’t thank me until you try it.”
She smiles a little and takes a bite. I like watching her mouth as she chews and swallows. There are so many things I want to do with her mouth.
“This is delicious.” She takes another bite. “I haven’t eaten real food in so long.”
“What have you been eating?”
She shrugs her tiny shoulders. “Coffee and crackers. Sometimes a milkshake.”
I have to laugh at her answer. “Coffee, crackers and milkshakes?” I repeat. “That’s the most bizarre combo of food I’ve ever heard.”
“I lost my lust for food when Nick died.”
Christ. The accident I caused forced this girl into starving herself. Just great.
“What do you usually like to eat?” I ask.
“Hmmm … vanilla lattes, chocolate mousse, salad, homemade chicken noodle soup, cookies, pumpkin ice cream—”
“Whoa, what? Did you say pumpkin ice cream?” I almost choke on my food.
She nods and takes a sip of water. “Yup. It’s amazing.”
“It sounds disgusting.”
“Dude, you have to try it. I could eat it forever.”
“Don’t call me dude. Maybe we’ll get some if you’re good.”
She almost squeals with happiness over that. Who knew ice cream would be the thing to finally get some real happiness out of her?
“What do you like?” She tilts her head at me as she waits for my answer, and I love how she’s looking at me as if she really wants to hear what I’m going to say. I chew my food and swallow while I think.
“To eat?”
“Yeah … or anything else you want to tell me.”
I cut up some more chicken and think about how I want to answer her. “As far as food goes, I like meat and vegetables. I’m not into all that sweet stuff you mentioned. I like rough sex, fast cars, loud bikes, pain, music, ink, and little blondes on their knees.”
She almost spits her food out. “Well, that’s an interesting list,” she says.
“Your turn.”
“My list is much more boring than yours. I like soft music, reading, art, angels, nature, photography … and big long-haired guys with control issues.” She says the last part with a shy smile that fuckin’ makes my heart leap. I put my fork down and push my plate away.
“Come over here,” I command.
She blinks at me. “What?”
I grab her hand, tug her until she stands, and pull her onto my lap.
“I thought we were eating.” The slight nervousness in her voice fuels the fire growing in me.
My hand is already down her pants, seeking the heat between her legs. “You’re going to be dessert.” I lift her up effortlessly and sit her on the table in front of me, yanking the sweatpants and panties off her, spreading her legs wide.
“Are you crazy? We can’t do this on the dining room table—”
I lift her legs onto my shoulders and lap at her open pussy, immediately shutting her up. Her head falls back, knocking her water over. She tries to sit up and I push her down, keeping my hand in the middle of her chest to keep her still. I caress her soft folds with my tongue and suck her clit into my mouth, gently biting. She squirms and pushes her hips up against my face. She gets turned on so quickly, I’m going to have to teach her to slow down and savor every moment. I grab her hand and guide it down between her legs, coaxing her to touch herself. She pulls away but I hold her wrist there until she catches on and starts to finger herself as I plunge my tongue deep into her. Her legs tighten around my neck and I stop moving, and let her fuck herself on my tongue while her fingers rub her clit. I feel her coming instantly and grab her hips, pulling her half off the table and pushing my tongue deeper into her. She yanks at my hair. “Stop! Please … I can’t take anymore,” she begs.
I pull her back onto my lap, her legs spread over my waist.
“You’re delicious. Much better than pumpkin ice cream,” I tease. Her face is flushed, her hair sticking to her damp forehead.
“You’re exhausting. I’ve had more orgasms in the past twenty-four hours than I’ve had in a year.” She quickly covers her mouth and closes her eyes, shaking her head back and forth as the words leave her lips and she tries to move off me. I put my hands on her waist and hold her.
“Don’t do that,” I say, noticing the tears brimming in her eyes. She looks away from me. “You don’t have to feel guilt for enjoying what we do.”
“I shouldn’t have said that … it’s disrespectful to him.”
Once again I lift her chin to look at me. “One, don’t break eye contact with me. And two, I want you to say whatever you’re thinking. You’re allowed to feel. I need you to feel.”
She’s quiet for a few moments and plays with my necklace, turning it over in her fingers.
“I’ve never been fucked on a table before.”
“You still haven’t been. I licked you, but I didn’t fuck you.”
She gives me a crooked smile. “Same thing.”
“Not at all. I can demonstrate the differences if you want.”
“No! Jesus.” She chews her lip and peeks up at me. “I’ve … you know … more than you have, though.”
Fuck she’s adorable. “Gotten off?” I say.
Her cheeks redden and she nods. “Yes.”
“I’m not keeping a scorecard, babe. If I want to make you come, I’m going to. If I want to get off, trust me, you will know it. If you want it, just ask. Is that what you’re hinting at? Do you want to get me off?”
“No … I just didn’t want you to be mad at me that you haven’t.”
I slide my hands under her shirt to cup her breasts. “I’m not one of those guys who thinks just because he gets a chick off that she owes him one back. The fun for me is making you come, watching you squirm, hearing you moan, tasting you, making you obey me and pushing your boundaries.” I roll her nipples between my fingers as I talk and watch her eyes flutter closed.
My cell phone vibrates in my pocket. What the fuck? Why can’t people leave me alone for one fucking day? I let out a frustrated sigh and pull it out to check the screen. It’s Lukas. Tabi groans a little when I put the phone to my ear.
“Hey,” I answer, knowing if I don’t talk to him he’ll psycho call me for hours until I prove I’m alive.
“Hey man, how’s it going?” he asks casually.
“Just relaxing.”
&n
bsp; “Good. Evie called me—”
I blow out a breath. “What the fuck. She has such a big mouth.”
“She said you had a girl up there?”
“Is there a problem with that?”
“Not at all. I’m glad you’re getting some. I was just surprised to hear.”
“She’s staying with me for a few weeks.”
“Shit. That’s not like you.”
“Call it therapy.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Nope.”
“Are you doing okay otherwise? Sobering up?”
“Actually, the deal was she would stay if I don’t drink, so there’s your answer.”
