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Except for maybe one night with you, my traitorous dick chimes in.
“Shut up,” I grumble super softly so she can’t hear.
But Ellie catches my murmuring and asks, “What was that?”
I try to refocus her on the first part of what I said. “Oh, I was just reiterating that you don’t owe me anything.”
I swear, the way she cocks her head and the knowing twinkle in her turquoise eyes tell me she’s catching on to my raging internal battle.
Nodding, she says, “Yeah, I heard that part. And okay, but I still plan to buy some food and pay for a few pizzas along the way. In fact, I’ve already decided that I’m covering the tab tonight.”
Thank God, it seems my redirection is working.
Keeping her on track, I make a big show of giving in, sighing and rolling my eyes. “All right, you can treat, if you really want to.”
“I do,” she says, “but before we get started…” She gestures down to her black server clothes. “Do you mind if I grab a shower and change first? I feel like I smell like a cornucopia of foods over here.”
I can’t smell anything from where I’m standing, but she’s probably right.
Chuckling, I say, “Sure, of course.” I point down the hall. “I’ll wait for you in the entertainment room. Take your time, though.”
“Okay.”
I walk out into the hall, and she heads past me and up the stairs.
Once I’m settled on the sofa in the entertainment room, I turn on the TV and tune in to a sports channel so I can get caught up on any hockey news.
There’s nothing groundbreaking, so I kind of zone out. I’m expecting to be waiting a while, as I know some women take forever to get ready. But it’s not long at all before I hear Ellie padding down the hall.
I sit up straighter and turn toward the doorway so I can watch her as she walks in.
Holy shit, she’s so damn pretty.
Does she always have to look so good?
Or maybe it’s just me?
No, she looks fantastic. Her long dark hair is flowing over her shoulders, the soft curls at the ends bouncing lightly as she walks toward the sofa. And damn, the ripped jeans she has on are just snug enough to show off her long, lean legs and slim hips. Then there’s her V-neck top. It’s not the bikini I fantasized about earlier, but it is turquoise and brings out the color of her eyes as much as I imagined a swimsuit in that color would.
As she plops down on the sofa—close to me, but not as close as I’d like—my eyes are drawn to her cleavage. Only a hint of her perfect, rounded breasts is visible, but it’s enough to make my dick twinge.
Okay, settle down, boss.
I quickly pick up my phone and say, “How about we order that pizza? I’m fucking starving.”
For you, I think but wisely don’t add.
“Sounds good to me.” She slips her phone out from her jeans pocket. “Where are we ordering from? I’ll pull up their menu too.”
I tell her, and together we scroll through the options on our respective phones.
I like the way she kind of leans toward me on the sofa as we discuss whether to go for thin crust or thick—thick wins—and what kind of toppings we want.
“I’m good with just about anything,” I share. “Just no pineapple.”
Scrunching her pert little nose, she agrees, “Yeah, no pineapple for me either. Yuck.”
We ultimately decide on a pizza with extra cheese, pepperoni, and mushrooms, along with two bottled sodas. I don’t put up a fuss when Ellie insists that we place the order on her phone so she can use her Apple Pay.
