Page 57 of Royally Drawn
“I’m simultaneously exhausted and still horny,” Ingrid groaned, resting her head on my chest.
We arrived hours ago but hadn’t left the bed. This was round three. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep my hands off Ingrid. She was irresistible. Ignoring her was torture. And lying naked in bed with her could have cured any man’s ills.
I kissed the top of her head. “I hate to tell you I’m done, but I am done. There is a limit, Ingrid, and you’ve reached it.”
She stared up at me, pouting. “Forever or just for this evening.”
“I need eight uninterrupted hours to recharge,” I explained.
“Hmm. So, I’ll wake you at four-thirty. Anyway, I’m hungry,” Ingrid said.
“Why don’t you dress, and I will make you dinner?”
“Late dinner?”
“It’s still dinner, darling.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
I pulled myself out of bed, dressed, and padded to the kitchen to make a garlic butter chicken dish she’d die for. It was simple but came out delicious. If there was one dish I could count on to impress awoman, it was this. Not that I needed to impress her. I don’t even know why I bothered. I had every ounce of her in the palm of my hand. I set her ablaze with just my fingers.
Duncan appeared as I was laying out the ingredients.Fuck!
I wasn’t sure how I forgot this ripple in my plan, but I did. I’d have to come clean before Ingrid appeared, and this got beyond awkward. It was best to be honest.
“What are you making? And can I eat it?” Duncan asked, dropping into the chair at the small kitchen table.
“Garlic butter chicken. I don’t know,” I sighed. “I am not cooking for you.”
“Who did you shag? Do you have a girl here?” Duncan asked. Even he was onto my usual go-to recipe.
“I…” I turned from where I prepped the broccoli and stared at him. “You’re like an annoying younger brother, so I will be honest with you, Duncan.”
“Uh-huh. So, there’s totally a girl upstairs. You thought I would be gone, but I can’t leave. So, I’m cramping your style. Is she hot?”
“Duncan, can you get any more immature?”
“What? It’s a valid fucking question.”
“Is it? Yes. Of course, she’s hot.”
He wanted more answers out of me. I decided to give them to him.
“It’s Ingrid.”
“Ingrid? Like… Cici’s friend? The Neandian girl? The smokeshow?”
“Yes.”
“She’s here… and you’re trying to get in her pants?”
I shrugged.
“Oh, wait. Have you already fucked her? God damn you! Does Lars know? He’s going to beat you to a pulp?—”
“Lars isn’t going to do shit. And… I’m not getting into details.”
“Is she fun?” Duncan asked. “Fuck, I bet she’s fun. I bet she’s a screamer.”
