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Her movements slowed to a stop as she eyed the long, narrow box. Was she worried this was another vibrator to add to her collection? I’d sent her home with the other one after our last lesson.
You mean, the one where you came in less than ten minutes?
I tried to convince myself that at least she’d gotten a realistic experience of what it would be like if it was the guy’s first time, too. My first time, I’d only made it a few pumps before it was over.
But I was disappointed in my performance and was looking forward to doing better tonight. After dinner, I’d take her down to my room, get her naked, and see how many unassisted orgasms I could give her.
My dick perked up, wanting me to persuade her to skip dinner and head down to my bed right now, but instead, I tossed the box down on the counter. It slid across the smooth granite, coming to a stop right in front of Sydney.
“It’s not my birthday,” she said.
I shrugged. “It’s a ‘thank you’ for being my private chef tonight.”
She picked up the box and judged its weight. “Your dad’s home. Do I need to open this in your room?” Distrust made her eyes narrow. “Is it educational?”
I laughed and shook my head. “It’s not.”
When she’d learned my dad was home, she’d gotten mad I hadn’t mentioned it while we were shopping. She could cook enough for three people if she’d known to buy more portions, but I’d told her there was no need. He was on call, so the chance of my dad having to leave before dinner was ready was extremely high.
I was honestly surprised his car was still here when we arrived at the house. He was off in his bedroom, probably sleeping or catching up on emails since Cassidy was hanging out with her friend Lilith.
Sydney slipped a finger under the tape and popped up a corner of the wrapping paper. As she tore the rest of it off, my pulse sped.
I couldn’t argue this gift was an impulse buy in the traditional sense. I found myself at various times during the day thinking about her, and random shit too. Not just thoughts about how hot she was, or how sex with her was off-the-charts, but I wondered, like, what she was doing at that exact moment or how her day was going.
Most of all, I was curious if she thought about me as much as I did about her.
It wasn’t a conscious decision to buy the knife roll for her. After one of our text exchanges about planning dinner tonight, she’d mentioned that she didn’t have one yet. It’d been a casual, offhand comment, but suddenly I found myself on Amazon, searching for the perfect one for her.
She opened the tan box and pulled out the contents, not understanding what it was until she took it out of its plastic sleeve. The black canvas bag had two straps around it to hold it closed when rolled up, but when it was flat, there were slots inside to store a chef’s tools.
Her gasp was quiet as she took it in, and her fingers traced over her name that was embroidered on the bag in between the clips for the shoulder strap.
“Oh, my god. You shouldn’t have.”
But the way she looked at it? It was clear she loved the gift.
I rubbed a hand on the back of my neck, trying to distract from my awkwardness. Yeah, I knew it was too much, but fuck it. I liked her reaction. And thank god it had shown up in time. Having it customized had added two days to the delivery, so I’d been relieved when it had arrived this afternoon.
“It’s no big deal.” I forced lightness into my tone. “If anything, it’s a self-serving gift. This makes it easier for you to come over and cook again.”
She drew in a breath, and for a moment, she looked like she didn’t know what to say. But then she straightened and pulled on a smile. “Thank you.”
I nodded and dropped my gaze to the counter, eager for her not to dwell on my statement. I’d told her this thing between us was just sex, and then like an idiot, I hadn’t followed my own damn rule. Hanging out and buying her gifts . . . what the hell was I thinking?
My biggest problem was I didn’t know if I wanted to have a fun date with her or take her downstairs and fuck her brains out.
You can do both.
But I shouldn’t. Every lesson with her deepened my betrayal to Colin. When I was with her, I had to pretend he didn’t exist. And when I was with him? I did the same thing.
It made me feel like shit, so I tried not to think about it.
Once she finished moving her knives into her new bag, I pulled the rest of the items from the plastic bags and laid them out for her. “What would you like me to do?”
She slipped her apron over her head and tied the strings behind her back. “Are you good in the kitchen?”
“No, I’m terrible. I’d say I do my best work in the bedroom.” I gave her a wide grin and a wink.
