Page 24 of Not the Puck Bunny

Before I could respond, she said goodbye and ended the call.

Not two minutes later, a knock sounded on my front door.

Cue a wave of nervous excitement. I tried to push it aside, but it persisted all the way across the room, until I opened the door.

“Hey.”

Chapter Ten

Cam

“Hey.”

I stepped inside her apartment and handed her the warm paper bag of food I'd just picked up from my favorite restaurant around the corner. “I hope you like Chinese. The Golden Duck has the best wonton soup and spring rolls in the city.”

She pressed her lips together and smiled as though she was trying to hold back a laugh. “I love Chinese.” She carried the bag over to the kitchen and unfolded the top.

Steam rose into the air, filling the space with the scent of ginger, garlic and spices.

“That smells amazing.” She half-closed her eyes and inhaled.

I bet the food didn't smell as good as her.

She pulled the containers out of the bag and set them on the countertop before sliding open a drawer in the large island.

“Chopsticks, forks or spoons?” she asked.

Can I fork you, then spoon?

I cleared my throat. “Fork, please.” I could use chopsticks, but not well enough to take the risk. “And a spoon for the soup.”

I took a moment to get a look around her apartment. “Nice place.”

I'd expected somewhere bigger, but the view from the balcony was as incredible as mine. All of the seating was positioned to take advantage of it. The four stools that sat down one side of the island faced it. So did a huge sectional that dominated the room. Beside that was a bright pink bean bag that seemed out of place compared to the neutral blues and grays of the space.

“Thanks.” She opened the soup containers, added spoons and pushed one across the island to me. “Beer?”

“Depends. Am I gonna get in trouble with the boss?” I picked up my spoon and scooped up a wonton to shove in my mouth.

She opened the fridge and pulled out two beers. As if she had something to prove, she glanced at mebefore cracking open one, then the other, with her bare hand. She slid one to me before picking up her soup and beer and gesturing over to the sectional.

“No need to be formal.”

I wasn't much of a formal guy myself, so I sat down where she indicated, careful not to spill hot soup on myself.

The moment I sat down, something in the ceiling clicked. Through speakers all around the room came a male voice.

“I parted her quivering legs with my hands, exposing her slick pussy. ‘You're so wet for me, baby,' I said, keeping my voice low, just the way she liked it. I lowered my mouth to her wet heat and started to explore her with my tongue.”

Andi had stopped dead still, her face bright pink. She hurried to lower her bowl and beer onto the coffee table in front of the couch and put her hand on my thigh.

“What are you?—"

“I'm sorry, you're… I need to…" She looked down toward the couch.

I leaned over away from her and looked where she was looking.

“Oh.”

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