His heartfelt chuckling around a mouthful of candy is so adorable that I want to video call him just to see his smile.
“Cinnamon. They’re my favorite.”
“You like things spicy, got it.”
“So, was that an innuendo, or are you actually interested in my food preferences? I feel like I need to start asking before I answer.”
“Is ‘both’ an acceptable answer?” There I go again, testing the waters.
“Sure—doesn’t mean I owe you an answer, though.”
Is it possible to know someone is smirking over a phone call? Before I can come up with a retort, he continues.
“Yes, I like spicy food.” Ender clears his throat, which I assume is an act of nervousness, before expanding any further. “The second part is to be determined at a later date.”
“Fair enough. I’ll be anxiously awaiting that answer.”
“I bet.” Ender’s faint response barely registers over the running water.
The steam begins to surround me like it’s trying to drag me into the shower. Like it or not, I’ll have to end the call soon.
“Sounds like you’re about to jump in the shower. I’ll let you go.”
“As much as I don’t want to hang up, I do have a long day tomorrow, and I need to get some sleep because someone—no names mentioned—kept me up until 2 a.m. last night.”
“Correction, it was about 1:50 a.m. becausesomeonepassed out mid-sentence on me.” I love this playful side of his. It’s the opposite of my first impression of him—as amazing as that was, too.
“My apologies. Can I make it up to you?”
“I’ll think about it. Go take your shower, and we can discuss you groveling on your knees another time.”
“I like the way that sounds.” The walls echo with my laughter, and Ender joins in on his end. “Goodnight, Ender.”
Ender said goodnight and I reluctantly ended the call. Everything about this man is so wildly different from anyone else I’ve ever been into, and I can’t get enough of him. Stepping into the shower, my mind wanders to his last words. I imagine myself down on my knees for Ender, those beautiful eyes of his gazing into mine, and it has my dick swelling. I begin to add detail to my fantasy, and my pulse races with it. I want to feel his hands grasping my hair, hear him moan as I swallow him deep, and watch his eyes roll back when I suck him hard until his cum spurts down my throat.
The hot water cascades down my body, and I let my hands, lathered in body wash, join it. Instead of my own, I imagine they're his. One hand fondles my balls, and the other grasps my cock, stroking firmly. I imagine Ender's soft laughter echoing in my mind, and my strokes speed up, my balls desperate forrelease as I remember the warmth of his skin from the few brief moments we've touched. My hand slams against the tiles as my orgasm hits me hard and fast, and a deep groan wrenches itself from my core. I keep working my cock, riding the aftershocks until I'm trembling and panting for breath.
When I finally wash up, I catch myself thinking that if this is the result of imagining being with Ender, I may just need a living will if it ever becomes reality.
Saturday passed by in a chaotic blur with last-minute preparation for Stonewood’s opening night on Wednesday. Both Luke and I were dealing nonstop with placing orders, employee scheduling, and helping trainers—neither of us left until after midnight.
I barely even had a minute to text Ender hello and ask him how his day was going. Seeing his text messages when I woke up this morning, I was relieved that he understood. I know from close friends in the restaurant world that the long days and nights—especially when opening a new restaurant—can cause personal relationships to suffer, with partners sometimes feeling neglected.
What the fuck? Why do I keep slipping and feeling like Ender is already my partner? We’ve barely even spent time together, but I’m unreservedly drawn to him for some reason that I can’t pinpoint, let alone understand. I text him back before I’ve even used the bathroom or wiped the sleep from my eyes. I’m officially obsessed with him.
By the time I finish getting ready and leave the house, Ender has responded to let me know he’s out to lunch with the gang, waiting for Kaden, Lanie, and Faith to arrive. I smile when he admits he’s actually starving for real food, and that Connor’s rambling made him even more hangry. I can’t help but chuckle under my breath, envisioning the scene unfolding in the diner they went to, not far from Stonewood’s.
In an attempt to cheer him up, I sent him a few playful selfies, along with a shot of a random dog hanging out the window of a car next to me at a traffic light, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
Arriving at the restaurant at almost noon, knowing there’s a long night ahead of me, I take a few minutes to pull up my text thread with Ender.
He’s cute
The dog, not you, just so we’re clear. *face with tongue emoji*
And now he’s the one teasing me. I don’t realize how loudly I’m laughing until one of our employees, busy smoking a cigarette outside the restaurant, shakes his head at me.
You sure know how to make a man feel good. *disappointed face emoji*
