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“You want me to eat an Oreo?” he asks, sounding somewhat unsure, but also intrigued.
“Yes, but don’t mind me. Pretend I’m not even here. That you stumbled upon a glass of milk and a package of Oreos. What would you do?”
With his hands braced on the counter, he stares down at the cookies and milk, then back up at me.
“Remember, I’m not here,” I remind him.
“Right.” He laughs, knowing I’m watching his every move.
With bated breath, I watch as he reaches for a cookie. I let my sigh of relief out slowly. Alec never made it this far. He told me I was being odd, that he wasn’t a child and therefore didn’t eat Oreos.
Griffin twists the cookie apart and starts licking the frosting inside. Okay, damn, maybe this exercise wasn’t such a good idea. I was using it to reveal something about Griffin’s personality, but now I have to stand here and watch his tongue circle the inside of a cookie.
It’s torture knowing what that tongue feels like on my clit. Knowing how thorough Griffin is, how he’ll take his time licking every last bit of frosting off that cookie.
I make a strangled noise and Griffin shifts his eyes to me.
“Am I doing it wrong?” he asks.
“No, no. There’s no wrong way,” I assure him, while trying to discreetly fan myself.
That’s a lie. There is a wrong way, but Griffin is passing this test with flying colors. He’s also making my panties wet.
When the frosting is gone, Griffin places the two cookie pieces back together, then dips them into the milk. He lifts the soggy cookies out of the milk and devours them in one bite before chasing it down with the remainder of the milk. I watch his throat bob with every swallow.
Jesus. This was the worst idea ever.
He sets the glass down, wipes his mouth with the back of his arm and looks at me.
“So?”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks for that.”
“Wait. You’re not going to tell me what it was for?”
“It was just a little ‘get to know you’ exercise.”
“And what did you learn?” he asks.
I pull out my phone and the Oreo personality test results. Griffin falls into multiple categories. He’s slow and meticulous, the licker and the dipper.
“You’re a hybrid. You follow the rules, meticulous and detailed. You’re curious in nature and generally upbeat.”
He nods toward the cookies. “What about you?”
“I already know what I am.”
“Show me.” His words are low and just a bit rough.
“Fine.”
I pour more milk into the glass, then select a cookie. I dunk one end, letting it soak in the milk before I place it in my mouth and use my teeth to pull the soft cookie off the frosting. I return to the milk, dipping the remaining cookie, then repeat the process, leaving the circle of frosting. I place the frosting in my mouth, loving the way the sweetness hits my tongue. I swallow, then take a sip of milk to wash it all down.
“There,” I say, setting down the glass and looking over at Griffin.
One hand is braced on the edge of the counter, his knuckles white from the force with which he’s holding on. His green eyes are settled on my mouth, but they’re not the shade they normally are. No, they’re nearly black with only a hint of moss around the edges. His lips are parted, like he’s about to say something, but then he blinks, breaking the intense moment.
He clears his throat. “And what does that tell me about you?”
