I don’t want him to go but I’m trying to understand: why is he here with me when he could be with someone like her?
His gaze is heavy, a frown creasing his forehead, so I avoid it by fixing him a drink: Sambuca with three coffee beans floating on top. I slide the glass in front of him as we both sit down at the table.
“Like her, how? A loud cunt? An obnoxious bitch?” He picks up the glass and stares at it like it might bite him. “What is this?”
I can’t help giggling. The look on his face is hilarious. “Con la mosca.”
“With the fly?” His nose wrinkles and I bite my lip to keep from laughing again.
“Yes. Because the coffee beans float like dead flies in the drink.”
“That doesn’t help me understand what you want me to do with this.” But his eyes are almost playful.
“Drink it and chew on the coffee beans. Sambuca has star anise and fennel in it, the coffee beans have caffeine, and those compounds all help with digestion.” I rest my chin in my palm, watching him.
He throws back the liquor in one smooth motion, his eyes never leaving mine, and chews on the beans deliberately, watching me as he swallows.
“What do you mean I’d be with someone like her?”
My cheeks flush hot. “Someone drop dead gorgeous.”
He leans forward, elbows on the table, and my heart beats so hard I swear he must hear it in the quiet apartment. “I do like beautiful women. I would say they’re my weakness, but I don’t have any weaknesses.”
The way he’s looking at me, like I could be one of those beautiful women, makes my breath catch in my throat.
I force a smile, trying to keep my voice light. “Lucky you.”
“I make my own luck, princess.” He leans in closer, and his gaze drops to my mouth.
Suddenly nervous, I stand and take his glass and plate into the kitchen
“Would you like anything else?” My voice comes out steadier than I feel, but he follows me into the kitchen. When I place the dishes in the sink, he’s behind me, his chest against my back, his hard cock brushing my ass.
“I’ll do the dishes,” he says, his breath hot against my ear.
I laugh. “You really don’t have to.”
He presses his erection against me harder, planting one hand on the counter on either side of me. “You know what the alternative is. Are you offering?”
Oh my gosh. My heart in my throat, I turn to face him. This close, I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. He’s so gorgeous, it’s hard to breathe.
I open my mouth to speak but the way he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me steals every coherent thought from my brain.
He dips his mouth toward mine to kiss me, and I want to let him. But I don’t. Instead, I press a finger to his lips, stopping him. His eyes flash surprise.
“Are you just doing this because you’re bored and want to get off?” The words come out more vulnerable than I want.
He pulls back, frowning. “If you’re asking me if I’m in love, the answer is no, princess.”
Heat floods my face and I shake my head quickly. “I didn’t mean bored versus in love. I meant are you bored, actually interested, or is this a pity fuck situation?”
“A what?” He looks honestly confused.
I gesture helplessly at myself. “You know: shy girl, workaholic, no boyfriend.” I gesture at him. “And then you.”
“Then me, what?”
“You look like you should be on the cover of weightlifting magazines. You’re gorgeous. And me, I look like I should be on the cover of puff pastry packaging. As the mascot.” I force a laugh, trying to make it a joke.
