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Twenty-Nine
Harlow
My body sighed in relief,unwound, and relaxed until my heart skipped a beat when I was certain a gruff, muffled voice echoed across the hall a few moments after my orgasm coursed through my body. Nothing happened or came of it though. No knock or deliberate movements as the wave of sleep overtook my body and I crashed for the remainder of the evening.
The morning fog I hoped would be less hazy, it gave me maybe a better picture painted before my eyes that I hadn’t envisioned before. Instead, I was left with the aftermath sensation within my gut that twisted more so whenever Elijah sprung to mind. With my list in hand, I knew I would have needed some special added ingredients to create Mama’s pasta tonight, one of our favourites. Brick walls had surrounded and enclosed me within, sheltering away the locked thoughts surrounding life as a child. Her recipe book was my pride and joy, a real rarity to have shared one of her dishes with anyone apart from Johnny. It was a connection we solely shared, but with Elijah, it was different. He knew her, the little special touches and mementoes that meant so much. This moment I hoped would be as defining for him, as it felt for me too.
Heading straight down the stairs, my eyes detoured to the specimen that sat leant over the coffee table, peering at his laptop screen with his reading glasses on. I was sure the drool was close to escaping my mouth but keeping myself in check felt much harder than it needed to be. Never had I seen him with glasses before. The dark frames suited him, he had that whole superhero vibe going on, fucking sex on legs. Peeping up from his screen, his smile widened as he rasped.
“Morning,” the strangulated voice of mine prised out.
“Just getting this work done now, then I’m all yours for the rest of the day. Well, if you still want me that is?”
He was giving me a get out clause. Was that for my benefit or his? I didn’t know. I could see his heated gaze as it admired me, and I hoped he wouldn’t have regretted my decision. The need to have explored this avenue was beyond any control I had.
“Of course, I do. I’m just going to grab the herbs I need and mama’s special ingredient, then I’m ready to start,” I said noticing Elijah’s eyes glistening before me, but before he had a chance to talk about it, I headed out of the door. I knew it could be an area that could be brought up later, when we both were occupied with food separating us. Well, I hoped it would.
I had never been so flummoxed with a shopping trip previously and I was scared that if I was longer than necessary, I would be greeted by an empty house after Elijah realised that this was a huge mistake.
The moment I walked in though my worries disintegrated and melted into a piled puddle on the floor. Elijah greeted me with his widened grin that had my panties melting off my body. He hadn’t offered to help with the bags luckily, knowing I would’ve shot him straight down. My independence had always been important, but I had a feeling I may have to start adapting some of those thoughts especially if those looks of intent continued.
The kitchen was my haven, a calming atmosphere in which all inhibitions were lost to the surrounding background. With my apron tied on, the one I had sported for years, with the red frilled edge, the memories hit of mama hand sewing the appliqué detailing on. At first, she attempted the machine and it nearly got thrown across the room. Never one for gadgets or electronics as she put it, we left it in the store cupboard. It gathered dust alongside various other types of equipment we had tried to force her hand with.
Elijah had popped upstairs, saying he hadn’t wanted to ruin the surprise of which dish I was preparing, which surprisingly tugged at my heartstrings. Just as the sauce was getting to the desired thickness, Elijah sauntered into the room with a swagger that had my eyes fixated. Never mind the hot bubbling sauce it should have been on. I’m glad Elijah had thought of this time more casual even if in my head it wasn’t, as he just grabbed a pair of ripped jeans and muscle tank top to eat in, not the dressed-up shirts he could’ve worn. He looked good enough to eat as he floated around in the dining room, as if travelling on air. He set the table ready for two of us just as my phone started to ring.
He was straight by my side, not wanting to break unknown territories by answering my phone, I asked if he would check who it was, as goosebumps ran along my arms. I should’ve known it was Johnny, not many people had access to my number. If I hadn’t answered, then I knew he would have continued to keep calling though, until one of us eventually did pick up. He was obsessed in that manner of keeping to his promise; he would check in. Then I knew he wouldn’t falter. I asked Elijah if he could answer the call for me, whilst hitting it onto loudspeaker, as my hands were preoccupied with other tasks.
Johnny’s ramblings mainly consisted of Ria and her obsessions. I didn’t want to say anything to him about it, it seemed as if he was obsessed with her, then finally, he wanted to check how we both were. The way he asked us had my train of thought running in a one-way direction to the gutter. Heat spread to my cheeks, as I couldn’t think how to answer appropriately. As if Elijah could sense the trepidation of my answer, he took the phone and kept the conversation light and brief, keeping away from any subjects consisting of the pair of us. Taking two large bowls, I spooned the freshly cooked pasta, alongside the spicy, rich tomato sauce, adding fresh herbs and topped it with a layer of parmesan. With the garlic and rosemary focaccia placed to the side, the meal was set. Walking towards the table, I noticed the effort Elijah had put into the layout. The best china was placed out for use, even though it was only lunch, he had even put a bottle of wine to chill. It was if he could sense we may need some Dutch courage. I placed the food down and a chair was pulled out to my side.
“Shall we?”
The words echoed as they travelled to the depths of my ears. Ensuring my breath was as steady as possible to him, even though it felt the complete opposite to me, I walked over as I admired the chivalrous gesture he had made. His normal obsession with cleanliness ignored, it was if he didn’t have a care in the world as his fixation never deterred away. I removed the apron, laying it down behind me. I took a seat and allowed him to move me closer towards the table.
“Thank you,” I said as the hilted words escaped from my breath.
Thirty
Elijah
Today had leftme full of the jitters, normally people got them on their wedding day, but me, I got them from being obsessed with a girl’s reaction. I couldn’t say she was just any girl, though. Last night she had managed to give herself an orgasm while thinking about me and those thoughts had set my own in motion. All kinds of obsession and need between us now questioned whether a line could’ve been broken together.
Work had been mounting up, my watch kept on vibrating continuously with updated emails that needed addressing that I didn’t give a fuck about reading. Knowing I had proved my commitment to the position and certain soon Johnny would be checking, I got up a few hours early to begin the relentless task. Continuously, filtering the email correspondences based on the requirement meant that I could structure my time on the area it was best needed and acted on the instinct it portrayed.
Harlow continued to go about her day, preparing the task at hand, knowing the next few hours would feel like a lifetime. My twitching hands and legs became too much, needing to share the same air as her. I decided any task I could have undertaken, without stepping into her territory, I would do without question. It hadn’t mattered to me, just as long as she was close by. Needing to show the care she warranted, I set the tone of the meal by being the gentlemen she deserved. The perfect dining set up and pulling her chair out ready for her to join me. Excitement coursed throughout, knowing a step in the right direction had finally started.
A comfortable silence settled between us, as the air wafted with the combination of tomatoes and garlic. Just taking subtle looks at each other, unsure who should make the first move and speak first, to open the conversation. I took tentative spoons full of the delicious creation placed before me, the smooth balance of flavours wrapping together against my tastebuds driving my senses wild. Harlow matching my mouthfuls taste by taste until the orgasmic noises slipped from her mouth, making me grin. A reflex I was unable to control. The giggles between us were potent and the mood lightened. I decided to break the silence.
“Thanks for suggesting this time together. This dish is incredible.”
Knowing the thought behind it meant Harlow could talk about Paula, hopefully to me, a topic of mutual connection. I saw the tears forming knowing how raw it still felt even now whenever she spoke of their time together, and how she spent creating wonderful pieces from her various skill set. Taking a pun and unlocking a part of my closed heart, courage poured through as I talked about Paula. That gaping wound began to open, the one I had hoped I had secured with a plaster, but now it had been ripped wide open. Paula had been a structure in my existence, a vital force who had kept me on the right path. My own parents were great, but Paula had this sense of being able to motivate and kept you moving on the right path. Those memories flew back to our chats those times when she would take some time for me. Even though I wasn’t hers, she always made me feel wanted. The favourite times were making her famous cookies and as I took in the woman in front of me, I dared to ask.
“Harlow, did your mum ever make those triple chocolate delights with you?” I questioned, noticing the tears trying to escape from her eyes as I quickly got to her side.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I gauged the way she looked as I bent down to her level.
“No, you just said the exact right thing. The triple chocolate with the glazed top? I thought no one would remember. Me and mama had a different name for them, though; between us they were our ‘truth cookies’. A way to get my feelings out, knowing that my frustrations would be taken care of in the process. No judgement was the key rule, though.”
