Page 99 of Carnal Games

Removing the towel, also black, to fist by his side, he taunts, “Your sharp tongue will get you more than you bargained for.”

What is happening? Is it because we’re outside his office that he’s being so… flirty? Or am I imagining it because of my unrequited obsession?

Sensing he’s about to send me on my way, I use the only weapon I have left in my arsenal. Goading him into fulfilling my wish. “Are you allergic to humans?”

“Will I be standing here and talking to you if I was?” he replies dryly, which is his version of sarcasm.

“Why do you keep avoiding company?”

“Just yours.”

I return a heated stare, and softly scold, “You’re not my boss right now, stop being mean.”

A torn shadow flicks in his eyes like my complaint hit a nerve before it vanishes. “Fine. I’ll have breakfast.”

“Perfect.”

He lifts one amused brow when I keep gazing at him with a satisfied grin. His teasing whisper washes over me, “Are you going to move aside so I can go into my apartment and shower first?”

“Oops! Sorry.” I step out of his way. “I’ll start on the breakfast. Would you like a salad like you usually do or something more filling like a paratha? I can make you toast too.”

“Don’t go out of your way,” he commands. “Whatever you’re having is fine.”

“Cool.” I skip over to my apartment with a spring in my step and leave the front door wide open. Inside my luxurious kitchen with the world-class instruments, I connect my phone to the Bluetooth speakers and select my playlist. Once the music begins, I lose myself into cooking.

It has always been a form of destressing for me. Playing around with new recipes, or putting a twist on old ones, brings me joy. Another quality I inherited from my mom—I love feeding people. I’m hoping the saying ‘a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’ wasn’t bogus, and I sneak my way into Kian’s heart.

Looking inside the fridge, I make a note to stock it with more healthy ingredients if I’m going to cook for Kian. I have eggs, so I decide to make omelets, along with toast and coffee for today.

I’m humming the lyrics when the volume decreases and Kian’s voice floats to me. “Stop leaving your door unlocked.”

Shrugging, I answer over my shoulder, “I didn’t want to risk you changing your mind and ghosting me.”

“We both know you would’ve marched to my door and invited me over again.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.” His footfalls come closer until I can smell his chocolaty scent mixed with fresh soap.

Flicking my finger to the high-tech coffee machine while I focus on chopping up veggies, I tell him, “I made you coffee. There’s a mug beside the machine. Have some. Also, how do you like your eggs?”

“I’ll have it the same as yours.”

“You must have a favorite way to eat them,” I coax sweetly. Wiping my hands on my apron, I twist toward him. “If you’re worried it won’t be tasty, let me tell you, I am a fantastic cook. And I’m not brag—” I trail off, going speechless yet again at my first look of him in casual clothes.

His back muscles shift underneath the black T-shirt sticking to his upper body in all the right places, while light blue denim jeans hug his ass so good that I crave to take a bite.

I should probably make a list of all the deeds I want to do him once he’s mine.

Earlier, I was paying so much attention to the front of him that I forgot to admire the back of him, which is just as glorious. I can’t pick a favorite. Every inch of him is perfect.

Pouring himself a cup, he finishes, “Bragging?”

“Yeah,” I exhale. As he slowly turns to face me and leans against the countertop, I get my bearings. His gaze scans my body, sticking a little longer on my frilly yellow apron with cute bears on them. Still in a Kian-drunken haze, I murmur, “So, how do you want me?”

The gray in his pupils darkens into a dark cloud as it clicks into my brain what I just blurted.What the hell, Iris?

“The eggs!!” I say in a rush, feeling a blush forming on my cheeks and almost dropping the knife I’m holding. “I meant, how do you want me to cook your eggs?”

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