“What will you do if I disobey?”
“Do you think it’s wise to challenge me?” I ask menacingly, sitting at the table. “Go ahead, test the waters.”
Following a second or two of indecision, she opts to sit at the table. Good, because I’m hungry and not in the mood to whop her ass.
“The food looks great.”
“Thank you,” she replies grudgingly.
I pick up the fork and knife.
“Wait, we have to say a prayer.”
“I don’t pray, but go for it while I enjoy my meal.”
She clasps her hands together and says a short prayer.
I smirk, noticing a particular vegetable absent from her salad. “No cucumbers?”
“I didn’t want any,” she says in a high-pitched voice.
“Why is that?”
“You covered it in my… in my… vaginal fluids.”
“You’re going to suck your juices off my dick plenty, so get used to the taste.” I give her some cucumbers off my plate. “Bon appétit.”
She pours vinaigrette on her leafy greens and begins to eat tentatively.
“Why were you homeschooled?” I ask, cutting into the juicy meat.
“My father thought it best,” she answers evasively.
“Explain.”
“He didn’t want my behavior influenced by peers.”
“Your unconventional childhood must’ve been hard on you.”
“It doesn’t surprise me you know details of my life since you love invading my privacy. My upbringing wasn’t a happy one and very strict.”
Her haunted eyes pierce my hard heart. Fuck, she’s getting to me.
“Did he hurt you?” I’ll decapitate that motherfucker.
“I prefer not to have this discussion, please.”
“I’ll drop it for now since you said please, but we will finish this.”
We resume our meal in relative silence, but I sense she’s distracted.
“Do you have something to say?”
“What you did was unnatural.”
“But you enjoyed it,” I state matter-of-factly.
She averts her gaze, shamefaced.
