Silva moves forward to chase my lips, but I step back with a smirk as she pouts at me.
“I don’t want to start anything before I feed you,” I say, walking around the kitchen to pull glasses for the plates and silverware already set out.
“You’re obsessed with feeding me.” She sighs.
“You betcha,” I agree. “Wine, water, or both? We’re having Marry Me Chicken with fettuccine.”
“That’s a bold choice,” Silva says, hiding her smile. Her lips are a bold red, and my cock twitches at the idea of fucking up her makeup. “Wine sounds wonderful. I’ll take a glass of water too before you remind me to hydrate.”
“What I’m planning after dinner requires proper hydration,” I tease her, my eyes nearly crossing as she perfumes.
“Sy, dammit,” she moans. “I didn’t wear scent blocking panties.”
“Good, I want to be able to smell what I’m doing to you, Spitfire,” I say, my voice acquiring a gravel like tone as arousal fills me. “Don’t hide that from me.”
Opening a bottle of wine, I fill her glass and then make sure she has a full glass of water beside it as I wink at her.
“You’re a force of nature,” she mumbles, watching as I plate her food before coming to sit beside her so I can do the same for myself.
“Subtlety is beyond me,” I reply, watching her pointedly until she lifts her fork and begins to eat. “I’ve been content to watch you from afar for a long time, and I can’t do it any more.”
Silva moans as she chews her food, and my cock kicks violently against my zipper. It's completely hard now, and the only thing hiding it is the island.
“Good?” I ask, knowing it is as I begin to eat. I make a creamier sun-dried tomato sauce than the recipe calls for so I can make sure my noodles are properly dressed.
“Yes,” she says, swallowing. “It’s delicious. Where did you learn to cook?”
“My mom actually taught my sister and I,” I explain, taking another bite so I’ll sound natural as I talk about her. Fuck do I miss her. “She wanted us both to be self-sufficient, and her love language was feeding people.”
“I see,” she says. I’m sure she does on some level. As her sister said, Silva is an empath and sees things more clearly than most do. “Is that also why I smell chocolate?”
“It is indeed.” I chuckle, glancing at the timer. “I have some vanilla ice cream for you to go with the brownies. They’re double fudge.”
“Ugh. That sounds amazing.” She moans, taking a small sip of her wine. “This all tastes really good. I’m impressed. We kind of monopolize your time here. Do you get to see your family much?”
“Not really,” I murmur, drinking some water. I’m not having wine because I need to be clearheaded, and I’m cognizant of my previous issues with alcohol. I can be around it, but the mostI’ll have is a beer these days. “My mom died from a heart attack while I lived in Seattle, and I haven’t seen my sister in years.”
The truth is that I failed my sister. I didn’t pick up my phone while I was on a stake out, and she disappeared that night. There were rumblings that there was a sex trafficking ring operating there, but when I went digging, my chief told me to stop. She was only eighteen, and had recently presented as an omega.
Maeve was fun loving and wild, never paying attention to me when I warned her to watch her drinks while partying. This was the beginning of my spiral, and I quit the force in Seattle two years later. I kept digging into things without permission, and even had my ass kicked for my efforts.
My left pinkie finger never healed completely. It’s still slightly crooked.
“Syrus?” Silva asks, her hand on my forearm.
“Sorry,” I rasp. “It’s hard to think of them.”
My mom told me to take care of my sister, and I fucked that up.
“I didn’t know it was a sore point,” she says gently. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Silva doesn’t know how right she is in saying that. They’re both lost to me, and after all of my digging, my sister is probably dead as well.
“Thank you, it’s been a long time.”
“Some wounds don’t heal,” she replies, taking a long sip of her water. “They just continue to hurt to remind us we’re still alive.”
“So who am I killing?” I ask, my gaze steady on hers as she meets it.
