AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He nodded with a slight shrug. “I fixed your lock.”
She stared, not sure what to say. “Wha—”
“I don’t like the idea of anyone being able to walk in here any time they like. I spoke to your landlord—what an asshole—and he didn’t have a problem with my fixing the door. Here’s your new key.”
He fished in the pocket of his jeans and pulled it out.
“Thank you. I’ve always felt pretty safe, but it did bother me that the door never locked. After asking to have it repaired ten times, I just got used to it.”
She felt somehow awkward talking with Brian about the security of her building and thanking him for the protective measure. She’d thanked him plenty of times for his generosity in the bedroom, but never for something like this. Never for something heartfelt. It made her surprisingly self-conscious. Nervous.
“Would you like to come up? I’m just throwing a salad together for dinner, but…I have enough for both of us.”
Brian’s gaze seemed to reflect the same uncertainty she was feeling. In the past, there had never been a question of his coming up. Or what they were going to be doing once he did. He would show up at her door. When she opened it, he pushed his way in and took her, both of them hot and demanding. This was different. He’d built a level of security for her. Allowing her another defense with which to hold him back. Did she want another layer of defense between them? Or did she enjoy that subtle sense of lost control? The power out of her hands. Submission to his hunger and lust.
“You’ll have to let me in. I just gave you the key.”
“No spare?” she asked, but of course he wouldn’t keep one.
“Landlord has all the copies.” Brian reached over her shoulder and pulled the door open for her. The gentleman. No, she knew better. A pulse of heat throbbed between her legs as she wondered what kind of ungentlemanly behavior he might engage in upstairs. Or maybe that wasn’t his intention at all. He’d wanted to talk to her. With her anxiety on the rise, she led the way.
The air inside the apartment was stuffy. She’d closed it up before she left for work, thinking there might be rain. But the sun had held off the showers all day and by evening the clouds had been swept away. Amber and Brian opened the windows and turned on the ceiling fan in the living room.
“Glad I didn’t promise you a lasagna. I can’t even imagine lighting a candle in this heat, let alone turning on the oven.”
He nodded from across the room. “What can I help you with?”
“Nothing. I’m just chopping up a few things, I made the dressing this morning.”
Brian seemed satisfied to survey the apartment as she worked in the kitchen, staring at his wide back as he fingered through her CD collection and selected Mazzy Starr to play softly in the background.
She chopped up some grilled chicken breasts and roasted red peppers, asparagus and fresh mozzarella, piling it into a large bowl as she finished with each item.
Brian opened the small Tupperware of dressing, smelled and then tasted with the tip of his pinky.
“Wow, that’s good. Honey?”
“Mmhmm.”
He moved around the kitchen opening a few cabinets until he located the dishes. He selected two shallow bowls, running his finger around the vegetable relief at the edge of one as he set them carefully on the counter. He moved to another cabinet with the glassware.
“Wine? Water?”
Watching him move around her kitchen searching out dinnerware was having a strange effect on Amber. The normalcy of his actions seemed out of place in the fantasy relationship she was living out with him. There was sex, but the conversation had died weeks ago, after that first night. That first night when Brian had taken her in the kitchen where she now stood, chopping and preparing a casual dinner for two. Strange. Brian, still poised with his hands at the cabinet, looked back over his shoulder at her and Amber had to remind herself to answer.
“White wine. And maybe water too. It’s pretty hot. I’ve got a Pino Grigio in the door of the fridge.”
Brian pulled out the stemware and retrieved the wine. Pouring two glasses, he handed one to her. It was delicious, cooling its way down her throat. Crisp. Clean. A contradiction to her time spent with the man who had poured it.
They stood in the kitchen leaning casually back against the counter while they drank the wine and ate the salad. Even eating standing up, Brian wowed her with his manners and good form. He used a napkin and a fork, but what had she expected? Beast in the bedroom that he was, it wasn’t like he would shove his face in the bowl and lick up the dressing.
He leafed through one of the Fusion Cookbooks she had lying out on the counter, pointing out recipes that looked good. Recipes that looked complicated, but that he guessed would be worth it. She liked his presence in this casual setting. The nearness that offered more than physical pleasure, though her body was responding to him nonetheless. Amber’s stomach tightened as she watched him relaxing in her home. This was what she wanted for her reality, even if she knew it wasn’t real.
This was not the way he saw her. Not the way he spent time with her. Not the way it would stay.
She was vulnerable. If she was smart, she’d turn on the attitude and change the tone. Regain control of the situation. Realign the expectations so she couldn’t be hurt. If she was smart, that was what she would do, but she couldn’t bring herself to make it end. She couldn’t lash out with cruel words and the offer of intense sex. Not when she had this brief moment of perfection to live through. No matter how painful the descent from this elevated place would be, she wanted it. Every minute, every second, as long as it lasted. Even though it wasn’t real.
She hadn’t realized that she’d been clutching the plate so tightly until Brian’s strong hands smoothed over her white knuckles and gently pried the earthenware from her grip. He set the plate on the counter atop his own.
