Page 425 of One More Kiss

“You’re so uptight you have to touch yourself to relax. I know it took you approximately three minutes to get off. You know just where to touch and how you like it because it’s the only relief you allow yourself to have. You arch your back just when you feel it coming, and I know you’d enjoy it more if you’d actually get fucked hard like you need.”

Her jaw drops, her eyes narrowing as she stares intently at me. I can tell she’s trying to find the words to respond, but she closes her mouth and swallows.

“Come in.” I smile. “I’ll make dinner.”

I don’t wait for her to reply and turn around to go back inside the house. She follows behind, silently, and when she closes the door, I glance back at her and can see her mind racing a million miles a minute.

Digging around the fridge, I pull out two chicken breasts. She watches me as I wash and cut them into cubes. We stay silent as I move around the kitchen and prepare dinner. Adding a box of rice to the cooked chicken, I cover the pan and let it simmer.

“Do you cook for all your tenants?” she blurts out as I grab two plates from the cupboard.

“No,” I say, grabbing the utensils next. “I haven’t cooked for someone in a long time.”

“Why’s that?” she urges.

“You really want to know?” I ask, directing my eyes at her in warning. She won’t like what she hears, but I won’t lie about it either.

“Yes.”

Clearing my throat, I set the plates and forks on the table where she’s sitting.

“Most tenants don’t stay around the cottage all day. They’re usually here to explore and go to the beach. They eat out, and I only see them at check-in and check-out.”

“Okay?” she says as a question. “What about family or friends?”

“Not really. My mama and aunt are usually the ones to bring me food. Not a lot of time to socialize with friends.”

“Which means you have none.” She grins.

“I do. Most of them come over after dinnertime.”

“Ohh…you mean, chicks. You could’ve just said that.” She tries to keep a straight face, but I can tell it’s close to breaking.

“I didn’t think I needed to.”

“So if you don’t cook for tenants or booty calls, why do you cook for me?”

“Because even though you’re an uptight city girl, I enjoy your company.”

“That almost sounded like a compliment.” She smiles.

I shrug with a smirk and get up to check on the chicken and rice. I turn the burner off and bring the pan to the table.

“Thank you,” she says after I plate her food and set it down in front of her.

“You’d probably starve without me,” I tease her.

She chuckles, not denying it. “Probably true. The writer’s diet is no joke. I’m either eating everything in sight, or I forget to eat entirely.”

“Sounds like my entire college career,” I admit, remembering all the times I’d be scraping for change.

Halfway through dinner, I bring up my offer again. Mostly to taunt her, but also because I’m hoping she’s changed her mind. I can’t get the image of her touching herself out of my head, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about the way she tastes when she comes.

“Even if I was desperate enough to sleep with you, which I’m not, I don’t have sex with guys I just met.”

“Even good-looking ones?”

She starts choking on a mouthful of food, and that’s all the answer I need.

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