After the man leaves with my signature, I pull a chair out for her, then immediately regret it. I need to be a dick, not a nice guy. The problem is Lareina. Showing her little courtesies comes instinctively.
She sits down, and I pick up a coffee pot, deliberately pouring myself a cup, but not her. It’smuchharder than expected. But damn it, if she wants some, she can serve herself. I pour enough syrup over my toast to drown it and take a big bite. I’m starving. I also take a chunk out of the bacon on my plate and several gulps of coffee.Ah… This is what it feels like to be human again.
Lareina pushes her food around. Her mouth grows tauter and tauter, and an inexplicable tension pulls her shoulders toward her ears.
“What’s wrong? Not to your liking?” I ask, almost relieved. I’ve finally found a reason to dislike her: she’s a picky princess. “Should I have ordered you fat-free yogurt or something, your highness?”
“No. Um…” She pulls her lips in, her eyes darting back and forth between my food and hers.
What is this?When a woman thinks this hard and hesitates this much, nothing good ever follows. I brace myself.
“Mind if we swap?” she says suddenly.
“Swap…?”
She points at our plates. “Food. I keep thinking yours looks more delicious.”
I look at hers, then mine. They look about the same, except for the fact that mine has a bite or two taken out. “Is it because there are a couple more slices of strawberries on my French toast?” I look at the bowls of fresh berries and cream on the side, hinting that she can just grab those.
“I think it’s better this way. And you get more food. I’m sort of hungry, but not, like, super hungry.” Except the intense focus in her eyes says she’s starving.
What’s going on?
She reaches over and swaps the plates. “Thank you for understanding.” Then she scarfs down half the French toast before I can blink. If this is the latest seduction trend, she needs to quit watching so many stupid videos on worthless social media sites.
Finally, she makes a slight choking noise.
“You don’t have to shovel it in.I’m not stealing your food,” I say.
She shakes her head. “That’s not it.” She pours two OJs and pushes one toward me.
“I don’t drink fruit juice.”
“You don’t?”
“No. It just came with the breakfast.”
“Oh.” Lareina looks down at her glass and purses her lips. Her expression reminds me of a kid being told she isn’t getting a Christmas present.
I should just ignore her and go back to my breakfast. But I can’t stop myself from reaching for the glass and taking a sip.Ugh. Tart.Not my thing.
She leans forward. “You like it?”
Does she want me to say I love it because she’s the one who served it? “No.”
“Great.” She beams, then reaches for my glass. “I’ll take it, then.”
Uh…What? “You have yours.”
“I know. But you said you don’t like it. Wouldn’t want to waste this one.” She grabs my glass and takes a sip. If she’d pressed her lips where mine touched, I might’ve thought she was attempting to flirt, clumsily so. But no. She’s acting too casual now.
Perhaps my suggestion that she can slow down penetrated, because she’s eating at a more normal pace now, and bothering me for a different reason. It’s just standard breakfast—and yes, it may seem more delicious due to our hunger—but her cheeks flush, and her eyes half close with every bite she takes. When she munches on the bacon, bliss transforms her face, making it glow as though she’s just had the best orgasm of her life.
My tongue stops registering taste and texture as all my overheated blood heads to my dick. I eat mechanically, totally focused on her. If she’s reacting like this to food, what’s she going to be like in bed? A screamer? A moaner? Will she cling?Bite? Scratch? Does she like to wrap her legs around her man? Did her exes give her orgasms on a reliable basis?
No, probably not,I decide. If they had, she wouldn’t be deriving this much pleasure from the food. Even the OJ is making her hum a bit.
When she reaches for the glass again, the ring on her finger—the same as mine—winks. The sight should cool my blood, but instead, it sends an unfamiliar sensation through me.
