Well, so much for being sneaky.
“Honestly,” he says, “yes, but not in the way you mean. My job keeps me busy. I work all the time. I’ve put my career first forever. So no serious relationships, no. But I’m not a monk or anything.”
“Obviously.” I roll my eyes. “You probably hold the world record for hours spent between a woman’s legs.”
Jake laughs. “What about you?”
“Pretty much the same. I’ve spent so much time building my career that I just don’t have time to put into anything serious. I’ve dated plenty of guys, but never for more than a few weeks. It hasn’t been a priority.”
We look at each other for several moments. Finally, I ask the burning question. “Have you ever thought that you might be missing out? I mean, maybe you like being a player and having different women to keep things interesting…” But maybe he doesn’t. “Do you ever wish you had time for more?”
Jake just shrugs, his eyes fixed on mine. I don’t say anything else, wondering if I’ve said too much. If my questions make it obvious that it’s exactly how I feel. I don’t regret putting my career first, but it does get lonely sometimes. It would be nice to have a warm body to come home to at night. One that was good for more than just helping me get off. Though that would have to be a given as well. Obviously.
I clear my throat and look at the stack of letters. We’ve barely made a dent. Probably because we spent more time talking than working.
I can’t get the idea of a warm body in my bed out of my head now that I’ve had the thought, and I glance back up at Jake, my lips curving up slyly. “You hungry?”
He takes the bait, his eyes glittering with naughty intentions. “You offering?”
“Well, I do know how much you enjoy something tasty to eat…”
“I do have quite the voracious appetite.”
“I think I might just be able to help you out with that,” I say. “If I remember correctly, I have some whipped cream at home. I’ve been saving it for a special dessert.”
“Sounds delicious.” Jake looks like he could devour me this second.
“Want to come over to my place for dinner? If you’re an extra good boy, maybe afterward you can have some of that dessert.”
Jake
“This was such a good idea,” Layla says as she chops some peppers.
“Glad you had it,” I tease, pouring two glasses of wine from the bottle she set out.
Her lips curve up, and I can't take my eyes from them. Those lips belong on my cock, but I’m trying my best to restrain myself. I really don’t want Layla thinking I’m only interested in her for the sex. Though she’s just as aware as I am that things are so damn hot between us, it’s only a matter of time before we combust.
“It’s been forever since I’ve really cooked a good meal. And even longer since I’ve done it with someone.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” I say, coming around the island in her kitchen and leaning against it as I offer her a glass of wine. She sets the knife down and turns to face me, clinking her glass against mine. “But hasn’t it only been a few days?”
“You know what I mean.” She laughs and swats at my chest, but I grab her wrist and pull, throwing her off balance so that she stumbles against my chest. A chuckle rumbles up my throat, and the way she bites her lip as she looks up at me, her eyes full of naughty intention. “Keep that up and we might not make it to dinner.”
“That’s the idea.”
Rolling her eyes playfully, she takes a sip of her wine, and then turns back to the cutting board. “Grab that pan, will you?” She nods her head toward the rack full of pots and pans hanging above the island.
Reaching over her head, I make sure my entire body presses against her from behind. Layla sucks in a breath when she feels my thick cock press against her ass. It’s been so fucking hard since the minute we got here and I stepped foot inside her apartment.
The knife clatters to the floor, and she turns her head to look at me, her eyes wide with mock-innocence. She lifts her fingers to her mouth. “Oops. Look at me being so clumsy.”
When she bends to retrieve it, her ass pushing back against my cock, I groan, setting the pan aside and gripping her hips.
“Fuck, Layla. I could fuck you so hard right now,” I bite out through gritted teeth. She’s certainly not making it easy on me to show her that I don’t only think about fucking her. Just ninety percent of the time. The other ten percent it’s still there in the back of my head, but I’m able to function somewhat normally.
Pulling away with a giggle, she grabs the pan and puts it on the stove, then turns on the burner to sauté the veggies we’re putting in the pasta. I figure I should probably attend to my job in the kitchen. Layla’s been doing most of the work because I’ve been too busy watching her and thinking about all the places we could fuck in her apartment. The few days since our date have been a few too many.
I grab a pot and fill it with water, then set it on the stove next to Layla’s sauce pan. My job is to boil the water. What can I say? Cooking isn’t exactly my favorite pastime. After I wipe the counter with a towel, I tuck it into my back pocket and settle in behind Layla again, brushing her hair aside to give me better access to her neck.