Page 100 of Love in the Dark
She pulls a seat back from the table and drops down into it. Part of me is disappointed that I have to shelve the tying her up idea until later. The larger part is appeased that she chooses to stay.
“What are you doing?” She asks.
Happy to see her settled, I turn back around towards the counter and finish assembling the sandwich.
“Making you dinner.”
“I’m not hungry,” she says, and I hear a tinge of…somethingin her voice. I can’t quite place it, except that it sounds exactly like the tone she used when I gave her my protein bar in the gym.
“You’ll eat anyway.” I add the top slice of bread and cut the sandwich diagonally before placing it on a plate. I place it down on the table in front of her and sit down in the chair opposite her. “My take on a BLT, with Canadian bacon and a pea, mint, feta sauce.”
She eyes it with hunger in her gaze but doesn’t reach for it. I’m starting to suspect there’s something going on there.
I’m going to make it my mission to find out what it is.
I reach across the table and place my fingers under her chin, turning it up so that she’s looking at me.
“You have to be hungry after the way we fucked tonight,” I tell her, rubbing my thumb softly along her jaw. “Try it.”
“I just–”
“For me.”
She stares at me, her eyes veiled. I’m near desperate to rip through that veil and make myself at home in them forever.
Finally, she lifts an arm and pokes her hand out past her sleeve, reaching down to grab half the sandwich. Her other hand comes up to hold it closed and she brings it to her mouth. She hesitates ever so slightly, her eyes flicking up to meet mine, and then she takes a bite.
There’s something about watching her mouth close around food I made that makes me hard in a way I never have before. Pride and possessiveness rush to my brain, making me lightheaded. I’m holding my breath as she chews carefully and it feels like I’m seconds away from giving myself an aneurysm.
She swallows and I open my mouth to say something, but I’m stopped when she brings the sandwich back up to her lips and takes another bite.
And then she moans.
And something inside me turns violently proprietorial. It frightens me how forcefully the feeling thrums in my veins.
My eyes shine with raw need, my dick throbs, desperate to be inside her again.
“This is so fucking good, Tristan.”
“Yeah?” I play it cool but on the inside I’m restraining myself from leaning over and licking the small dot of dip lingering on the corner of her lips.
“Yeah, it’s the best BLT I’ve ever had by far.” She extends the half in her hands towards me. “Here, try it.”
I bite into it directly instead of taking it out of her hands, staring into her eyes as I do so. Her gaze heats and she swallows thickly.
“Pretty good,” I tell her. I actually think it’s just fine. If I’d had more than ten minutes, I could have made something truly special. “Missing a bit of spice and an additional level of texture like something crunchy.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Her eyes widen but she doesn’t acknowledge my words otherwise.
“I think it’s perfect,” she says, taking another bite. “If this is how you make a sandwich, I can’t imagine how good your actual cooking must be. If you opened up a restaurant, people would line out the door for you, I’m sure of it. I know teaching is your parents’ thing but wouldn’t they understand if you went after this?”
I reach for her sandwich again, ignoring the half that’s still on the plate between us.
“No, they wouldn’t.”