5
Ryder - Sustenance and Secrets
Shit. She called my bluff. I was just messing around, saying I would come into the shower to get her. Why’d she have to go and say she’d leave the door unlocked? She can’t be serious.
Can she?
My dick definitely thinks she’s serious. With the way it’s sucking up all my blood flow, I’m surprised I can think rationally about this at all. Better to just focus on ordering the food than to keep thinking about her naked in the shower. Water running over her skin, cascading over her perfect tits- FUCK! Get it together, Ryder. She’s still not feeling well. Now is not the time to be fantasizing.
I go back to the living room to grab my phone so I can order something to eat. I’m not going to actually get into the shower with her, but I might just try to snuggle with her on the couch a little more. I still can’t believe I was lucky enough to get to hold her while she slept. She seemed so peaceful. I lied about how good my sleep was; I spent most of my time just watching her. Even when my arm fell asleep under her, I didn’t move. I had no idea when I would, or if I ever would, get another chance to lie with her like that, so I wasn’t going to cut it short for anything. It was definitely nice when she woke up but pretended to still be asleep though. Or when she went back to sleep because I asked for five more minutes.
My phone is on the coffee table where I left it. I pull up the food ordering app and decide on soup and sandwiches. This way if Denise feels sick again, at least she’ll have something easy on her stomach to eat. Probably be a lot easier to eat soup than a big burger or pizza if she has a stomach flu. While I’m at it, I order her some Gatorade too. It seemed like she’d been throwing up for a while this morning, if how tired she was is any sign, and the electrolytes will do her good.
Look at me being so thoughtful. I ought to get a boyfriend of the year award. Except I’m not exactly her boyfriend though, am I? With that sobering thought, I sit on the couch and feel sorry for myself a little, looking around at Denise’s townhouse.
She has interesting tastes in decorating. Lots of horror movie posters in fancy frames. And she has what looks to be a very impressive collection of skulls in assorted shapes, sizes, and colours displayed in a china cabinet, of all things. They painted the cabinet a matte black, and that, combined with the ornately carved legs and doors, gives it a dark, Gothic look. I’d never really pegged Denise for a fan of horror or scary things. Then again, I’ve never been in her townhouse for very long, so this is my first chance to get a good look at what she liked to surround herself with.
Getting up and moving to a small room off the living room, I notice she has a home office set up in there. She does most of her work from home or on the road, so that makes sense.
Continuing my tour of her house, I notice that besides the horror movie posters she also has lots of small pictures in tiny frames. Some square, some round, some oval, all ranging in size from a few inches to around eleven inches. Looking closely I can see that they’re little pictures made of threads, like embroidery or cross-stitch, or some other sort of grandma craft. Except these are nothing like any grandma I’ve ever met would make. I mean, my Gran totallywould,I just don’t think she knows how. There are skeletons, skulls, conjoined twins, anatomically correct hearts, something that looks like a head in a jar, and so many more. It’s like a circus of oddities has been forever memorialized in string and placed on her walls.
Just past the living room is a short hallway that leads to the stairs. Under the stairs is a small half bath and I stop in there to make use of it. Checking myself out in the mirror, I find myself glad for my trips to Pops’ gym. My muscle definition is coming along nicely and Denise definitely noticed. She noticed, and she liked it. Maybe it’s a good thing she drooled on me in her sleep. I’m not actually as grossed out as I made it look before. It just seemed like a good chance to be half naked around her. I’m not making a move right now, but it can’t hurt if she has me in her mind, right? And I know for a fact that I look better without a shirt on than Andrew. He’s more of the dad-bod kind of guy. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but Denise was definitely interested in what I was showing her earlier. I’m not complaining that I’ll get to show it to her for a little while longer yet, while we wait for the laundry.
After I finish checking myself out and using the toilet, I flush and wash my hands quickly. That’s when I hear the scream from upstairs. Something is wrong and Denise is screaming. I run out of the half bath and straight up the stairs. The first door I try is the bathroom, and it looks like she left it unlocked after all.
“Denise,” I call out as I open the door, “are you OK? I heard a scream.”
She has one of those glass encased shower stalls that is separate from the bathtub, and through the glass doors I can see everything. Aside from noticing how gorgeous her body is, I see that she’s standing as far away from the spray of water as is possible in the enclosed space.
“Hot!” she yells, pointing to the opposite end of the shower, where the handle is located.. “It’s so hot. Turn it off. Just turn it off, please.”
Oh shit, this must be an older building. When I flushed the toilet and washed my hands downstairs, I changed the water temperature in her shower. She’s burning in there and it’s my fault. I open the shower door and reach in to turn the water off for her.
“Shit! I’m so sorry Denise. I wasn’t thinking, and I used the bathroom downstairs. Are you OK? I didn’t mean to…” I trail off and I just can’t help myself. I look at her and I can’t look away. She’s not even trying to cover herself from sight. She’s so confident, and it is such a turn on.
“Are you going to just stand there and stare, or can you pass me a towel?” she asks as she stretches one hand out to me. “I was almost done, anyway. I was just enjoying the heat. Before it became like lava, anyway,”
Or was she waiting for me, I wonder?
Shaking my head to clear the nudity induced stupor, I look around until I find her towel hanging on the back of the bathroom door. I grab it and stretch my arm to give it to her, but I still can’t seem to avert my gaze. Just like with her sleeping on me earlier, I sort of want to commit this sight to memory in case I never get to see it again.
“Thanks,” she says, taking the towel from my hand and wrapping it around her body. She steps out of the shower stall and onto the bathmat beside it, causing me to step back into the vanity behind me. She just stands there, looking right at me, her impossibly blue eyes staring directly into me. I see a flicker of something, like interest maybe? But then the moment ends.
“I think I have it from here.” She gestures to the door. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” I step out into the hallway. “And sorry again about almost burning your skin off. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s fine. Not the first time that’s happened.” She smiles, letting me know she’s really fine. “Don’t worry about it. It’s already forgotten.”
I nod in acknowledgment and close the door behind me. I can’t believe I just saw her naked. This has the potential to be awkward, but I refuse to let that happen. I’m brainstorming ways to laugh it off while on my way down the stairs when the doorbell rings. Perfect timing. That must be our food.
I bring everything into the kitchen and place it all on the counter. I portion the chicken noodle soup out into two bowls that I find in the cupboard and put a sandwich on a plate for each of us. I didn’t get carried away with the sandwiches either, just turkey and cheese, but it’s a perfect comfort meal. The only way it would have been better is if I could have made it for her myself. That will have to be another time, though. If there is another time, that is. This day has been so out of the ordinary, and so amazing, that I’m treating it like a one-off and savouring every second.
“That smells delicious. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this hungry before.” Denise is walking into the kitchen, pulling her wet hair up into a bun on top of her head. She looks perfect, dressed in just casual leggings and a loose tank. She’s not wearing her usual full make-up either, and even though it’s different, I love this look just as much. I’d love to imagine that this softer look is just for me; that she’s letting her guard down a little. She’s always so tough and in control, it’s nice being able to see her relax sometimes.
“Nothing too crazy,” I tell her, pointing out the plates and bowls. “Turkey sandwiches and chicken noodle soup. I wasn’t sure how your stomach would be feeling and I didn’t want you to push it with something heavier.”
“That sounds perfect.” She grabs half of one sandwich and takes a huge bite. “Want to try to watch the movie again?”
