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She looked better than teddy bears and kittens. God, he’d only just got rid of his erection. The refrigerator door beeped and he let it close, not taking his eyes off her.
She returned his stare. “That would be, hello Zarley, did you sleep well? Can I get you coffee?”
He put the empty juice carton on the counter. “Hello, Zarley.” He loved her name. Wild and unusual, it suited her. He needed to say it more often. “You look beautiful and I can hardly believe you’re here. I had the fucking time of my life with you and, Zarley, I’m wondering how you feel about letting me repeat the exercise.”
She slipped onto the kitchen stool with a wry smile. “I still want the coffee.”
“I still want to learn how to make you come.”
She laughed. “You got close.” Her cheeks went pink. “I had a good time, Reid. You don’t need to prove anything to me.”
He needed to prove he was a keen remedial student so she’d agree to be his ever-loving dedicated tutor. “I still believe a thank you is in order.”
“Dude, I’d settle for coffee.” She gave him a look. “Don’t try me before coffee.”
He turned to collect mugs and make the brew, and when he faced her again she had her elbows on the bench and chin propped on her fists. He tensed for a tricky question and got, “Why do you only have one stool?”
Too easy. “I only have one ass.”
“You never have friends over?”
“I worked with my friends and you’re the only woman aside from my mom and my cleaner who’s ever been here.” He put a filled mug down in front of her.
She wrapped her hands around it. “You don’t think two stools might look, less, um, lonely?”
“One was a concession. I didn’t think I’d ever sit there.”
“Not to eat?”
She wanted to talk about stools and all he could think about was sex, specifically Zarley on her knees, water spraying her skin, her lips wrapped around him, or maybe Zarley beneath him her knees folded into his sides, flushed and trembling.
“I’m rarely here. Cereal for breakfast, but I eat that standing over the TV news. I work out, shower, change, play games and sleep here.” He remembered she took milk and sugar and lurched at the refrigerator for milk, hopeful he had some and it wasn’t off.
“And then you lost your job, fell down a pity well, became a bum and hung out at dodgy club girly bars.”
“Yeah, that.” He sniffed the carton, and she laughed at him, but happily added milk to her coffee while he opened cupboards and drawers looking for the ugly pottery sugar bowl Mom had given him. Dev would know where it was. Ah, there. He took it out of the cupboard and lifted the lid. A couple of Mickey D’s sugar satchels nestled inside.
Jesus, he was smooth. She’d caught him drinking out of the carton and he didn’t even have the basics, bread, milk and sugar, reliably to hand. She’d probably be horrified to learn he ate Dev’s meals out of the plastic containers they came in and he’d only incidentally changed the sheets the day before.
He put the sugar bowl in front of Zarley. She had the longest eyelashes, could be fake, and the most incredible lips and she was looked at the sugar bowl with raised brows. A spoon, she needed a spoon. He got her a spoon. At least he knew where they were kept.
“Now that you don’t do that drunk bum thing anymore, it might be nice to get another stool.”
He poured his own coffee, black and simple, no unnecessary mucking about. “Still only have one ass.”
She smiled, tearing open a satchel and stirring the sugar into her coffee. “If you can afford the rent here, you can afford a second stool. Think dangerously, Reid.”
“I own this place. Wait, are you saying you might want to bring your lovely squeezable butt into my kitchen on another rainy day?”
She looked behind her at the empty living area. “You own this.” Never had not bothering to furnish it seemed more like a dumb idea. She turned back to face him. “I’m saying it’s not totally crazy.”
What was crazy was how much he wanted that to happen. The two them, sugar that wasn’t stolen in the sugar bowl, a stool each, eating together using plates and glasses like they were more to each other than a thing. That was ridiculous. That was sex messing with him.
“Tell me about things.” He gestured between the two of them. She had that piece of silk wrapped tightly around her, no cleavage, but nipples, yeah, he could see nipples and he hadn’t had his mouth on them yet. “How long do they last?”
“That depends?”
“On?”
