His eyes meet mine, and I come to a stop while he searches my gaze.
I adore the way he looks at me.
In fact, I can’t break my stare away from him. I can’t say a word either, my silence more than telling, bringing a faint smile to his lips.
He looks at me like he wants to make sure I’m okay. I’m still satisfied. Still floating on a cloud of bliss.
I love the aftercare. It’s easy to fuck and bring a woman to the peak. What happens next says a lot more about a man.
The thought makes my cheeks burn, warmth flooding every corner of my body, and sweet memories dripping into my soul.
The flowers he’d left for me in the hotel room. The day I spent with them in his hotel room. The food… Maybe he came back earlier to catch me there alone… Maybe he knew.
How impossible would that be?
He could’ve called the concierge and simply asked. Is my guest still in the room? Yes? No?
Someone could’ve told him. Yes. He ordered the food and the flowers. He knew I was there.
He’d feigned surprise… Maybe.
My memory is fuzzy now. And then we spent a few moments alone. He seemed reserved. He knew exactly what went on.
There wasn’t much that he could do. Although we’ve done enough that day. The kiss in the street. Under the soft falling snow…
That was a page ripped from another book.
Another story.
Was he doing it on purpose?
Are they doing it on purpose?
Do they really want to make me fall for them? Is it genuine?
It feels genuine, yet it’s misleading.
What would they gain if I caught feelings?
Oh… They’d have me.
No, no… It can’t be that. That ruins my previous theory. I’m not saying it’s not possible. It’s just highly improbable.
Still, it all feels genuine and honest… And that throws me for a loop.
Well… I won’t be able to solve this mystery tonight.
It’s too early to say what’s what, so I push my thoughts back and dip my eyes to the food.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “I’m really hungry.”
I am.
Fruit, small danishes, and coffee. I pick up fruit and a danish and start eating, taking small bites.
“You’re not hungry?” I ask around a mouthful of food.
“I’m good,” he says. “Sit.”