Cold Hearted Bachelor

I’m going to jerk off hard to this kiss later, and for the rest of my life, because Paisley and I can never happen.

The timer dings, and I break the kiss.

“Fuck,” I whisper out. “Guess I should get that.”

Thirteen

Paisley

* * *

Oh my...everything. I rush to the bathroom, throwing my clothes back on along the way. My hands shake a little. Must be post orgasmic aftershocks. Because I’ve never had an orgasm like that before in my life.

Never.

Not lying. I know some women say they’ve never felt something so good, but this is the truth. I’ve never been so completely bare to another man before like that.

I’ve never had my body worked up like that. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone so badly in all my life.

Sure, I’ve fantasized about Vaughn for over half my life, but I couldn’t ever imagine anything that good.

His kisses were so needy. His hands were gentle, yet rough at the same time. Chills erupt against my skin, another aftershock of my recent orgasm, and I splash cool water over my face.

What do I say when I go back out there?

Thanks?

I step out of the bathroom, and tiptoe into the kitchen.

God, what a sight.

Vaughn stands in the kitchen, his back to me, no shirt, finishing dinner. His muscles, like artwork, are on full display for me. He grabs two plates from the counter, and slides a chicken breast onto each one.

I’m unable to propel myself forward, and instead I just watch. Like a stalker. Like I’ve been watching him my entire life.

And that’s the scariest part. I have been watching this man most of my life, and now that I can watch him so unabashedly, it feels almost sacred. Like I should be reverent as I stare at him.

“Did you want some wine?” he calls out over his shoulder.

“Ok,” I say, making my move to join him.

He jumps a little. “I didn’t realize you were right behind me.”

Act normal, I tell myself. I can do this. “Were you scared?”

He laughs a little, opening a bottle of white, and pouring two glasses. “You couldn’t scare me.” He hands me a glass. “This should pair well with the chicken.”

Should I tell him he terrifies me? “Thank you. I love white more than red.”

“I’ll let you in on a little unknown fact about me,” he leans closer with a smile, “me too.”

“Good to know. I can’t think of any unknown facts about me to tell you.”

He pulls out a chair at his dining room table, and then grabs the plates from the kitchen to set the table. “No need. I already know everything about you.” He rushes off down the hallway.

He comes back seconds later in a blue t-shirt. I’m a little sad he put the muscles away, but I think they’re burned into my memory well enough.

Umm. “No, you don’t,” I continue the conversation we were having before he left the room.

He shuffles around me, getting all the things we’ll need for our meal. “Yes, I do.”

I can’t possibly think of anything this man could actually know about me. “Sure, maybe things about when I was younger. Like old things. Nothing new.”

He studies me for a minute before sitting down. “Still like peas?”

“Obviously.”

“Hate pumpkin spice?”

“Naturally.” Because it isn’t natural.

“Still hate good movies?”

“I don’t hate good movies.”

He laughs. “Star Wars. Starship Troopers. Die Hard.”

I smile. “I don’t hate…” I stop talking because I do hate those movies, and my hatred grows as they keep releasing more and more movies.

He laughs at this. “See, there’s not really anything else to know.”

He doesn’t know my biggest secret. That I was majorly in love with him over half my life. “Yeah, I guess.”

It’s almost pride, or something like it that shines from his face as he smiles at me. “I forgot one,” I hold my breath, “you love to decorate homes.”

I let out the breath in a laugh. “Sure.” Relief washes over me like a cold spring on a sunny day. “Right.”

“You must be stoked doing this project, right?” he asks as he spears into his chicken.

“I really am.” I pick up my fork and knife. “Vaughn, this looks amazing.” It looks like something right out of a restaurant. I take a bite and oh, it’s even better. “This is so good,” I tell him.

“Yeah I picked up a few cooking skills growing up.”

“That’s not the only skills you’ve picked up.” I can’t believe I just said this. A warm blush creeps up my neck and my eyes go wide.

Vaughn cracks a smile with a light laugh. “Yeah? You want to see what other skills I’ve got?”

I smile, gaining my composure. He’s trying to trip me up, but I won’t let him. “Sure, I’d love to know what skills you have that aren’t sexual by nature.”

He smiles. “Ok, but I’ll tell you I’m much more skilled in the sexual arts than anything else.”