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Painfully, and it does take actual effort, I do end up somehow managing to peel myself away from her bedroom door. My cock is as disappointed as I am.
Fuck!
I hear footsteps from my right, but I only look over enough to spot Hailey walking in as she finishes tying the silk band of her robe around her waist.
“Hungry?” I question, tossing the sliced pieces of chicken around in the pan.
Grunting, Hailey takes a seat somewhere behind me in lieu of a response.
“You, uh, always used to be hungry after…we…you know…” I kill my own voice, letting her fill in the cracks.
Why am I being such a pansy right now?Hailey used to always be hungry after we fucked.There I said it…in my mind.
“So, you cook?” she ponders, continuing to stare me down even after I place a plate of teriyaki chicken and rice in front of her.
Her comment stings more than it should, but I choose to overlook it because I’m enjoying how she’s studying me.
Truth is, I felt her gaze on me the entire time I was cooking. Ilikedhaving her attention. I’ve always been a sadist for the recognition, but something about hers has always been more addictive. A high like I’ve never felt before is what she was.
I remember the very first time she’d actually given me her focus instead of blowing me off, and I swear, after that, I’ve chased it ever since. The air had seemed crisper, the skies brighter, and everything was just…more.
Euphoric is the only way I know how to describe it.
Hailey was the only girl who could make my heart accelerate but also be quiet at the same time. Extraordinary, at one time she made me feel superior.
“You know you totally invaded my privacy back there, right?”
My chewing slows. “Eat,” I demand, shoving in another mouthful when I notice how she hasn’t touched hers. The sweet and tangy sauce I’d made, a savory coating to the chicken.
“Why did you even come?” she asks, twirling the fork around in her fingers.
My smirk turns coy as I shove my now-empty plate away and press my shoulder blades into the chair. “Take a bite and I’ll answer the question.”
“Why?”
I shoot her untouched food an eye nudge, crossing my arms unyielding.
I’m not doing this to be a jerk, but she’d acted so surprised, and I still have this itch to prove her wrong from her earlier comment about me cooking…
Try it, my stare gleams.
Rebellion dances across her pupils. “This doesn’t look like tacos to me. I thought you said you could make a better one?”
My smile turns cutthroat. She’s referring to the conversation we’d had back at the food truck weeks ago.
The confidence in my spine only grows stronger. “Does this mean I should cook for you again?”
“Only if I’m guaranteed at least a knock next time you make yourself welcome in my home.”
To be fair, I had attempted to knock when I’d first arrived, but her father just beat me to the door. Her room, however, well, that part, I can admit, was overlooked. This fact suddenly no longer seems relevant. We both know what happened.
The fork continues to rotate around her digits loosely. She doesn’t want to give in, but I read her easily. Her interest in knowing why I’m here at all overshadows her insolence.
“And if I take a bite, you’ll answer my questions?”
My nod is clipped, and I shift my weight, making myself more comfortable.
Her lids thin to slits. “Any question?”
