I’m not sure I agree with her, but it’s not my decision to make. Having her work beside her ex, even just two days a week, isn’t something I’m a fan of. Not because she can’t stand up for herself, but simply for the fact she shouldn’t have to subject herself to spending time with the man who treated her like garbage. And Oaklee is so far above him, he doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near her goodness.
All I know is if I had a woman like Oaklee, I’d do everything I could to make it work.
An unwelcome sadness washes over me. It’s not something I’m accustomed to, but it’s not exactly foreign either. I look at my parents—and more recently, my twin brother—and see the happiness they have. I’m not naïve enough to know it’s not always sunshine and roses, but with them, the good seems to outweigh the bad. It’s like their main goal in life is to see the smile on the other person’s face, and that’s what I’ve always wanted.
However, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, and hurt is always right around the corner. I watched my brother go through deep pain when Whitney cheated on him. Hell, he ran from it—all the way to the other side of the world. But it was still there, and that’s a risk I’ve never wanted to take. So I’ve quietly sat back, lived my life, and had fun, all while hoping someday I’d find that person who made me want the “more” I’d witnessed.
Is Oaklee that person?
Hell if I know, but the fact I’m even thinking about “more” says something.
I guess time will tell, which is why I’m fine with not rushing whatever in the hell this is.
“Promise me something,” I say after chewing a bite of my ham and cheese.
“What’s that?”
“If he gives you trouble, you’ll tell someone. Your boss, the clinic manager, someone.”
She stares at me with those dark eyes, and I can see her appreciation. She’s grateful I have her back, but also that I’m not insisting she refuse to work with him. I can’t do that, even if my gut tells me to. We’re not in a relationship, even though it feels like something is there. However, even at this stage of whatever it is you’d call this thing between us, I won’t be anything close to the asshole we’re talking about. She deserves better, and she’s going to get that from me.
“I will,” she agrees.
“Good. Now, finish your sandwich. That cheesecake is staring at me, and if you don’t hurry, I’m about to grab a fork and dive in without you,” I state, returning right back to easy and fun.
Her beautiful eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I would,” I confirm, dumping half the contents of my bag of chips in my mouth and chewing loudly. When I’ve swallowed, I add, “You underestimate my ability to keep my cool when something as delicious as that is dangled in front of me. One thing you should know about me is I have a massive sweet tooth. When I see something decadent, all I want to do is devour it.”
She blushes, just as I had hoped. I also don’t miss the way she wiggles in her seat, leaving me half-hard and with a huge desire to devour. “Noted.”
We finish our sandwiches, and when I get up to throw the containers in the trash, she retrieves the cheesecake and two forks. “Come on. Let’s take this to the couch.”
I follow suit, placing my empty glass next to the sink and walking to the living room. She sets the dessert down on the coffee table and grabs the remote. She pulls up her streaming service and finds a show she’s watching. “Is this okay?”
“I’m gonna be watching you, beautiful, so pick whatever you want,” I tell her, getting comfortable on her couch.
She sets the remote down and grabs the plate. Handing me a fork, I wait for her to take the first bite, which she does. Seeing her lips wrap around the fork and hearing her moan of pleasure has my cock hard. I’m held in complete rapture as I watch the scene. Her little tongue snakes out and slides along the tine, licking off the smudge of cheesecake.
“Stop it,” I grumble, shifting in my seat to help alleviate the sudden tightness in my pants.
Her eyebrows shoot up, a sassy little grin spreads across her lips. “Stop what?”
“Don’t play coy, vixen. You know exactly what you’re doing,” I insist, narrowing my eyes.
She holds my gaze and licks her fork a second time. “So good,” she sings, swirling her tongue around the tip.
“Fuck,” I mutter, running my hand down my face as I watch her seduce me with a fucking fork.
A giggle slips out of her mouth, sounding sexier than any noise I’ve ever heard. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
Slowly, I reach for her fork and gently remove it from her hand, placing it on the small plate with the cheesecake, and returning it all to the coffee table. With slow movements, I angle myself toward her and prepare. Reaching forward, I slide the tips of my fingers down her right arm, reveling in the sensation of her shivering and responding. Her eyes turn into dark pools, almost like she’s a little drunk.
“Oaklee?” I whisper, leaning in and running my nose along her jaw.
“Yes?” She’s breathless and right where I want her.
Then, I pounce.
