4. Chapter Four #2
There’s another group gasp, and wide eyes turn back to me.
“ What is going on here?” a strident voice asks. Aunt Vivienne. Finally.
“Nothing, Aunt Vivienne,” Ashwini says hastily as the group scatters, dispersing to their desks in an attempt to avoid scrutiny from the most terrifying woman who ever lived.
“Yeah, there’s no cookie sex, Miss Vivienne,” Cody blurts.
Ashwini closes her eyes.
“He’s only thirty,” I murmur to her. “Still a baby.”
“Sam wasn’t that much older than him, and he never did dumbass shit like that,” she hisses, then grabs Cody’s arm. “Time for work!”
As she hustles him away, muttering subvocally in his ear, Aunt Vivienne’s gaze falls on me.
She sniffs.
Her eyes narrow.
I mentally swear that I will never again rush a post-sex shower.
But all she says is “You still owe me two reports from last week.”
“You’ll have them this morning,” I promise, feeling sweat break out on the back of my neck.
She sweeps past me to her own desk, and I sink back down into my chair.
I wish I could say the worst is over, but I’m a realist. Ashwini and the others are not going to let this go so easily.
The first chat message pops up thirty minutes later. I’m actually astonished they managed to wait that long. There’s no way I would have.
Ashwini
Don’t think you’re off the hook. Cody was right, we’ll pay. Get us the cookies.
Does she know she sounds like a mobster from a bad movie?
Mark
I’ll ask him if he’s interested in baking for cash. No promises.
Ashwini
Ask really nicely. Do whatever it takes to convince him.
Mark
Are you telling me to prostitute myself for cookies?
Ashwini
Please, don’t act like you wouldn’t.
Mark
Of course I would, but not when the cookies are for you.
Ashwini
You’d better get past that, and fast. Call him now.
Mark
I’m not calling him now.
Ashwini
Call. Him. Now.
Mark
He’ll still be asleep.
A weird sound comes from her desk, and I glance over to see her smirking.
Ashwini
Wore him out, did you?
Mark
No. Well, yes. But he works nights.
I went with him to the club last night and watched his first two sets, then went back to his place and took a nap so I’d be able to come to work this morning. We certainly didn’t sleep after he got home.
Ashwini
What does he do?
And the nosiness kicks in. Damn, that’s my fault for telling her anything about him. Rookie mistake.
Mark
None of your business.
Ashwini
You know we’ll find out. There are no secrets.
I ignore her, which I know must be killing her, and finish the reports for Aunt Vivienne. I do not want her to have to ask me twice. Once they’re filed, ready for her to rip apart and yell at me about, I sneak my phone out of my pocket and text Neil.
Good morning. I hope this doesn’t wake you.
It takes only seconds for the delivery status to change to Read, and then the three dots begin their dance.
Good morning to you, too! I’m awake. Just lying slothfully in bed cataloging every delicious ache in my body.
My throat goes dry, and I shift slightly to allow for my cock’s sudden interest. A vision rises in my mind’s eye of him sprawled across rumpled sheets. Would it be so terrible if I took the rest of the day off and joined him?
Wish you could have stayed longer, but your work is so important. You make such a big difference in people’s lives.
Aww. Nope, no way am I disappointing him by skipping out on work. I do have a few open files I should be following up—people who are struggling to accept the truth and need to be eased in slowly before I can hand them over to Integration.
Just doing my job. It is pretty rewarding. Some of the people I work with are weird, though.
Oh?
Yeah. They smelled your amazing cookies on me this morning and would now like to commission you to make them some.
LOLOLOLOL
You’re kidding, right? Do they know they can just buy some that are made by professional bakers?
Your cookies are the best I’ve ever tasted. No professional baker could compare.
*blushing* That’s so sweet.
Not trying to flatter you here. The only thing better than your cookies is you.
I wince. That might be a bit much. But it’s absolutely how I feel, which is a little daunting.
It’s a good thing you’re not here, or you’d never be going back to work again. I’d keep you here to service my body and my ego LOL
Sounds great. Where do I sign up? ;-)
So… I guess that means I’m going to see you again? I was hoping…
Yes. Whenever you like. We could go out someplace nice?
Fuck, I’ll even wear a tie.
Maybe next week. For now, just some private time sounds good. I work tonight, but then I’m off for two. Spend them with me?
Yes.
Great! JSYK, the second night is Christmas Eve, and I always have a small gathering for my neighbors. You can invite your work friends—there will be plenty of cookies there.
Uhhhh…
There are so many potential problems with that, I’m not sure where to start.
Oh?
None of us celebrates Christmas… and there’s a chance someone might be dumb enough to tell the true story of Christ to one of your neighbors.
Like Cody.
That he was a sorcerer trying to teach humans to be kind to one another? That still boggles my mind. Don’t worry, I’ll just tell everyone your friends are eccentric. Nobody on the street is religious anyway.
But you’d still have to meet them. And they’d have your address. After they decimated the contents of the food table, they’d keep coming back. You’d have them on your doorstep night and day, sniffing around for food. You’d never get rid of them.
…
Exactly what species are your friends? They sound like mice… or cockroaches.
An involuntary laugh bursts out of me, drawing all gazes. Uh-oh. I wave my phone. “My sister’s just telling me my nephew’s latest exploits,” I explain weakly, trying to sound nonchalant. Slowly, everyone except Ashwini turns away. She keeps her eyes on me, and I try to tune her out.
Nope, although like cockroaches, they’re impossible to get rid of. Or so we’ve been told. Mostly hellhounds.
Ah, yes. I’ve heard all about you hellhounds. And let’s face it, you haven’t exactly proven any of the stories wrong.
Righteous indignation flashes through me.
Say what?
LOL. On our first meeting, you ate half a dozen cookies, got me to give you a full body rub, and took another dozen cookies home with you.
That’s just good sense.
Sure, sure. I’m getting used to it. And I definitely like it.
I have to pause for a deep breath, because I’m scared to admit that I like it too. Are two nights of sex enough basis to be thinking about a relationship?
Maybe not. But they’re enough basis to know I like this guy and want to spend more time with him. I’m not a kid anymore. Feelings don’t scare or confuse me.
I like it too. A lot. And the cookies are a bonus.
Tell your friends Thursday, 6pm. And I’ll see you tomorrow night. Come straight from work. I have plans for you.
How did I ever get this lucky?