That sentence was meant to just be flirtatious, yet it made me sit straight up and reach for the robe, oddly unnerved and no idea why. Or actually, I knew why I just didn’t want to admit it. I already had a crush on him before the sex. Now I knew our chemistry was amazing. It wouldn’t take much for me to fall for him head over ass and that made me panic. “Where is this damn sushi you can’t stop talking about? I’m famished.”
Easing it around my shoulders, I found my panties clinging to the bottom of the duvet, a splash of red on the white. I slipped them on and stood up, belting the robe tightly. It was cashmere and felt like heaven against my skin. It was cozy, but as I moved, it was tactile and soft and added to the sensuality of the night. Even the idiotic robe was a turn-on.
It was ridiculous.
Michael pulled on the joggers without his boxer briefs and then a T-shirt went over his head. It read Stanford across the front.
“Is that where you went to uni?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Yes. Then med school at Columbia.”
I knew enough to know both were prestigious.
“You must have been a good student.”
“I like a goal. It drives me.”
Then he surprised me by reaching out and taking my hand. “Come on. I can’t allow a guest to be famished. Let me feed you.”
He meant it quite literally. As I offered to help as he pulled containers out of his refrigerator, he waved off my gesture.
“I’ve got it. But here, taste this.” He popped open one of the lids and pulled chopsticks out of the drawer in his kitchen island.
Quality chopsticks that wouldn’t leave that taste in your mouth like you’d just licked raw wood, which you had.
He picked up a roll, and before I could see or ask what it was, he had it at my lips. I opened out of instinct and he put the whole thing in my mouth.
I pulled back, trying to resist, but it was too late. I was forced to chew and swallow. It was tasty, but I shook my head at him. When I could finally speak again, I said, “God, what on earth, Michael? I can’t put that much in my mouth at once.”
The second the words left my mouth, I realized what I had said.
His eyebrows rose and he grinned. “No? Well, that’s a fucking shame.”
I rolled my eyes. “Men and their penis jokes. How utterly predictable.”
He just laughed. “You would have been disappointed if I hadn’t said it.”
“I don’t think I would have, actually, but if that makes you feel better, go on and believe that.”
I wandered over to the sofa with an appetizer plate of sushi and a glass of wine so he wouldn’t feel compelled to shove sashimi into my mouth. The art of oral sex was a different thing entirely from eating uncooked fish. Which didn’t seem possible, but it was true.
The robe enveloped me and I tucked my feet under it on the sofa. “Are you Jewish?” I asked Michael as he sat down on the sofa next to me.
He shook his head. “No. Why? Are you?”
“No. But you haven’t got one single ounce of Christmas in this apartment.”
“Oh.” He looked around his flat like it had never occurred to him. “I live alone. It seems like a lot of work to decorate for myself. Besides, everywhere I go it’s being crammed down my throat.”
“Ah, a Scrooge.” I smiled at him to show him I wasn’t serious. “Though I do see your point. My r
oommate and I have a wreath on our door and that’s it, so I suppose I can’t really judge. But that’s mostly due to a lack of space. We live in a closet. I adore Christmas, personally. It’s so cheerful.”
“I could do a wreath on the door,” he said, but reluctantly.
It was my turn to laugh. “You don’t have to do anything. I was just curious. This is such a huge space, with all these windows, I would enjoy decorating it. It’s no fun to try to put up a tree in a six-by-eight bedroom like mine.”
“Isn’t that the standard size of a jail cell?”