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I squeeze my eyes closed tight as his words come back to me, desire hitting me with the force of a ten-ton truck.
“Are you okay?” Xander asks, and when I drag my eyes open once more, I find him staring at me with a mixture of concern and confusion.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I’m good. Thanks for this.” My stomach growls loudly as the familiar scent of what’s hiding inside hits me. “And you’re right. It does smell incredible.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” he says, taking a step back. “Good fight out there though, Ramsey. You really held your own.”
“Nah,” I mutter, shaking my head. “He went easy on me.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. One thing’s for sure though.”
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” I ask, my curiosity more than piqued.
“That poor fuck is going to be hard as nails all day. That was like foreplay to the extreme.”
I laugh, but it’s totally forced.
“He isn’t the only one,” I mutter under my breath.
“Uh… yeah… I’m gonna…” He thumbs over his shoulder and continues backing away.
I have no idea what he’s expecting me to do, but he looks like a rabbit caught in headlights.
I don’t look down at the bag in my hand until the door swings closed behind him.
Lifting it, my eyes find the label on the side.
Mrs. Cirillo.
“Motherfucker,” I bark, knowing exactly who ordered me lunch.
Shoving my feet into my trainers, I wrap a hoodie around me and stick my phone into the pocket. Slamming my locker closed behind me, I march to the small staff room at the back of the gym.
Thankfully, it’s empty.
My eyes land on the bin sitting on the floor in the corner, and my fingers tighten on the bag in my hands.
The need to throw it out and forget all about it in favour of the pot noodle I pinched from the kitchen before I left the house this morning is strong.
But then I get another waft of the garlicky, sweet scent, and my mouth waters.
“Damn you, Cirillo. Damn you to hell and back with your pretty face and fucking fantastic cock,” I hiss to myself as I grab a fork and drop into one of the chairs with a huff.
Ripping the bag open, I find two of my favourite Chinese dishes staring back at me.
“Why? Why do you need to be so sweet?” I mutter, twisting my fork in the noodles before me, my stomach growling again in desperation.
My phone pings in my pocket and my heart jumps into my throat. I have no idea how I know it’s him. But I know it is.
Ignoring him, I push the fork into my mouth and groan as the flavours hit my tongue.
I have to admit, it softens the blow of losing somewhat. Although, he did exactly what I would have demanded if I’d won anyway. So maybe I did win, in a roundabout way. I just wish he could have taken the memory of him pinning me to the mat with him.
With a growl of frustration, I stuff my free hand into my hoodie pocket and pull my phone out.
His Lordship: Eat up, babe. You’re going to need your strength for your vibrating little friend later.
“Ugh, infuriating dick,” I mutter, shovelling another forkful of food into my mouth.
