Chapter 2 #2
When he doesn’t say anything, I just keep talking because it’s my best friend and he’s not gonna quit pestering me until I tell him everything there is to know.
“That never bothered you before, Sabre. You always said it was better to travel light, stick to finger food and stay away from romantic entanglements.”
“Yeah, none of that has changed. It’s just that she invited me to her next class.”
“Let me guess, it’s another eighty bucks, right?”
“Yeah, but the money ain’t the problem. The next class is on filleting and searing fish.”
“This lady who was so nice and respectful is gonna be teaching a class on your personal fuckin’ obsession. A team of wild horses couldn’t drag you away from that class. Am I right?”
I can’t help the smile that eats up my face. “You know me pretty fuckin’ well, brother.”
“Okay, I’m gonna go ahead and call this one right out of the gate,” he says. “You are gonna end up falling hard and fast for this lady chef, brother. I can already see the writin’ on the wall.”
“Don’t be absurd, Talon. Filleting and skinning seafood isn’t exactly an obsession but it’s kind of my thing. It would be a shame not to go.”
We both know I’m lying about it not being an obsession, but he lets that part slide.
“Brother, you just met your match and don’t even know it.”
I’d like to say he’s just teasing me, but my best friend sounds dead serious.
“I just want to see if I can pick up more tips, like I did tonight.” My voice is so sincere that I almost convince myself of the little white lie.
“You smiled when you said her name,” Rick interjects, while dumping a bunch of beer bottles onto ice.
I point the tongs at him. “Don’t act like you know me, prospect.”
He shrugs. “I’m just sayin’ what I saw.”
“I didn’t say her name.”
“Yes, you did,” Talon counters blandly, “a couple of times in fact.”
Damn, he’s right. “It’s about the fillet work,” I insist.
“Uh-huh.”
“She’s a good teacher.”
“Uh-huh. Lie to yourself if you have to. I know better.”
“I hope your beer’s flat,” I grumble.
The brothers swarm the grill like locusts.
I enjoy watching them gobble up my tidbits.
I eat some myself, comparing the taste and texture of my whiskey glaze to Linsey’s wine reduction.
It ain’t fancy, but they’re both good. The cookout burns itself down slowly and the brothers drift inside or head home.
Old ladies pack leftovers into containers.
Levi and Evan police up the trash because prospects are always responsible for cleanup.
I break down my station the way I do it every time, scraping the grill, washing my tools, and making sure everything is wiped down.
Then I sit on the back patio with my knife roll open and check the fillet knife. It doesn’t need anything. Still, I run it over the stone a few passes, wipe the blade down, and hold it up to the light looking for a flaw in the sharp edge. I’m happy to see my heirloom knife is nick-free.
I put it back in my roll and close it up. Then I head home to my place knowing the people I care about are well fed on my delicious food.
***
I step into a shower hot enough to fog up the whole bathroom.
In the privacy of my own space is where I let my mind run free.
I admit to myself all the things I would never divulge to Linsey or anyone else.
Namely, that she makes my cock twitch something fierce.
I’ve been shoving that to the back of my mind all night.
I finally stop fighting the inevitable and my mind fills with images of her.
I think of Linsey’s big brown eyes, the expression on her face when she held my knife.
Unlike my large, scarred hands, hers are smaller and much more delicate.
Her skin was soft when we touched. I can’t help but imagine how those hands would feel on my body.
Heat rolls through me when I think of her stroking my cock.
My hand moves to mirror the image in my mind.
I stroke myself to thoughts of her smiling at me, maybe encouraging me to touch her, to bury my face between her legs and not come up until she’s coming all over the place and screaming my name in ecstasy.
Hearing her voice in my head fuels my dirty thoughts.
I’m a bad man, stroking my cock to this innocent woman.
I imagine her begging for my cock to fill her instead of talking about my knife and chef’s rules.
In my dirty fantasy, she arches her body against mine while I fuck her, wanting more of what only I can give.
I brace a hand on the wall of my shower and come so hard my balls hurt.
Standing there, watching the shower wash away my shame, I know that I should feel disgusted with myself.
But for some reason I don’t. Stepping out of the shower, I realize that my need for her has not diminished at all. That’s never happened to me before.
I towel off, and climb into bed, the need still riding me hard, as I think about her correcting my grip, teaching me.
I suddenly remember as a teen I had a bit of a teacher fetish.
Although I never acted on it, I wonder if that’s coming back to haunt me.
She is a teacher of sorts. Raking my hand through my hair, I grab my phone off the nightstand.
Her class page loads with her smiling face in a little box off to the side.
She named her class Coastal Knife Work: Filleting, Skinning, and Pan-Searing.
Two weeks out. The class is full. So, I sign myself up for her waiting list, typing my name in the little box. It’d be a shame not to go.
Not expecting an answer anytime soon, I start to put my phone down. Then a confirmation email comes through, followed by a text message.
Thanks for signing up for my class, Sabre. I went ahead and squeezed you in, like I said I would.
Fuck, it’s a text from Linsey herself, rather than her app. There are a bunch of emojis, including an eggplant and a peach. I know enough to know that for some people these would be considered flirting, but with Linsey, I think they are just food related. I quickly type out a text.
Thanks for squeezing me in. I can’t wait to see you again.
I hit send before I realize how that sounded.
I’m not good at keeping my feelings locked down around this woman.
Just one more class, I tell myself. It’s the seafood one and she made room for me.
I can’t back out now. Lies. All lies. I know deep down inside that I want to keep going to her classes, no matter what else happens.
That’s the one truth that will stand when all the lies come tumbling down.