Chapter 13 Timber
Timber
Luke stands behind the counter, his fingers twisting in front of him, staring at the bowl intently. I hold it between my hands, feeling the warmth radiating off it, and light steam floats under my chin. But apart from that, there doesn’t seem to be anything that could cause him to worry.
“What is it?” I ask.
His head shoots up, meeting me with a startled look before he suddenly morphs back into his easy smile.
“Oh, nothing. I just added a new ingredient because the texture of oatmeal isn’t great. I want to see what you think.”
I narrow my eyes, but his stare remains the same. He’s hiding something, but I can’t work out why he looks nervous.
“Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” I ask, nodding at the pan, but he shakes his head.
“No, I’ve got a super secret mission today, so I need to hurry. I just want to see what you think first.”
I shrug it off. The only reason I’m sitting here is because he makes me eat with him for every single meal. If it were up to me, I would have already grabbed a protein bar and raced to my car, but Luke wants to make sure I actually put food in my body.
He can’t stop me when I avoid my lunchbox, though Marilyn will probably come after me if she finds out I don’t finish it. But the fact that Kane keeps bugging me for food all the time makes me want to eat it so he can’t have a single bite. So it’s all going Luke’s way, anyway.
I sweep up my spoon, preparing for yet another lifeless meal. As I lift a spoonful of oatmeal to my mouth, I freeze. Because I swear I can smell something coming off it.
My spoon nearly slips from my fingers, trembling as I bring it closer.
There’s definitely something there. Just the faintest hint. Like a scent in the distance. It’s something sweet, maybe too sweet, but enough that my mouth is already watering.
“What did you put in this?” I croak, shock pounding through me as I hold it even closer to my nose, trying to find it again. My head spins, my heart rate skyrocketing as the sweet scent spirals into the back of my nose, and I moan.
Luke sucks in a breath, and I gulp, realizing what I’ve done. I glance at him, but apart from the light pink dusting his cheeks, there’s nothing else to say he cares.
“Wow, it’s that good, huh?” he murmurs, and I try to glare back, but I’m too wrapped up in the scent.
I’m going to force oatmeal up my nose just to smell it at this rate.
I don’t want to put it in my mouth in case I’m imagining it, but I have to try. I’m probably still half-asleep or exhausted from the non-stop run of games, and I can’t keep myself together. I’ve been getting slower over the years, and this could be the sign I’m finally losing it.
But I go for it.
And the second the oatmeal hits my tongue, my taste buds explode.
I gasp, sucking in oatmeal. It paints my throat, and I’m coughing, choking, moaning as I hungrily spoon up more, shoving it in my mouth.
A deep purr rumbles through me as I spread it over my tongue. Something snaps inside me, and I need the taste coating my mouth. I don’t care how much oatmeal I suck up, I just have to get it in me.
I start licking the spoon before scooping more oatmeal, devouring it like an animal as I pant.
My eyes roll as my next spoonful tastes even stronger, like there’s something caught in one part of the bowl. I shudder as I hold the taste in my mouth, gluing it to my tongue as need builds in my body.
I clear the bowl in a minute, and I’m left here, clutching the spoon so tightly my fingers are numb as I heave in shock.
“I’ve never seen anyone gorge like that,” Luke says as he presses white fingertips against the counter. “For a guy who can’t taste anything, you sure like to eat.” His voice is huskier than usual, and it hits me right where it shouldn't.
Lifting my head, I’m about to ask Luke what the hell he’s put in it, but as soon as my eyes clash with his, I gulp.
Because he’s staring. Staring so hard his gaze winds through me along with that scent. He’s as captured as I am by it, and the need that beats off him trembles through me, making me hungry all over again.
“It tastes like maple syrup,” I whisper, barely able to get the words out because my heart is thumping so loudly.
The moment stretches between us, my purr still rumbles, and the remaining traces of maple syrup fade from my tongue.
I don’t want to let it go, I can’t let it escape, but I’m frozen there, watching how Luke’s eyes dance over me.
It drives me towards more fantasies, but this time, I’m the one on my knees for him.
I’ve seen that look so many times from fans, from Kane, from my ex-wife. It’s the look that says if I hold out my hand and pull him close, I’m sure he’ll fall into my arms.
Luke straightens, his hands balling into tight fists as a surge of desire burns through me. He catches himself, his shoulders hunching, before he suddenly laughs.
“I guess I’ll leave you to it.” He smirks as if he sees right through me. “You look like you’re enjoying that way more than I would.”
He leans over the counter, and a possessive need rises in me as his earrings clink and he arches his neck. He bends forward, his stomach pressing against the counter so he can reach my bowl, and I have to curl my toes against the stool to stop myself from groaning at the way his back curves.
His ass rises, and I swear he’s standing on his tiptoes so I can get a better look.
“Hey, now, if you look at me like that, I won’t get anything done today.” He chuckles as he stands back up, and I choke as I realize what I’ve done.
Luke likes to tease me as much as Kane, but I refuse to reciprocate because I don’t want to get involved with anyone.
No matter how drawn to Kane I am, I won’t go there after what happened with my ex-wife.
The only reason I’m even considering anyone else is because I don’t want to go to holdouts.
And Marilyn said ‘omega’. Not a cheeky beta who spoons more oatmeal into the bowl I’m getting horny over.
Yes, I think Luke’s attractive from time to time, but I won’t go so far as to say the sight of him ladling oatmeal is so hot my dick is reacting. It shouldn’t be like that.
Luke bites his lip, his tongue playing with the piercing, and I nearly moan out loud again. I don’t want to make things worse, but he looks so fucking sexy that I’m getting hard.
“Enjoy,” he says, curving his body so slowly it has to be deliberate. He throws me a wink as he hands me the bowl, snaps back up, and swans out of the room. I wait until I’m sure he’s gone to look at the bowl of beige mush, which isn’t supposed to taste of anything.
My hand trembles as I go for another spoonful, because it could be a fluke. Maybe that one bowl was the only thing I’ll ever taste for the rest of my life and now I’ll go back to a world of emptiness.
I take a nervous breath as I bring another spoonful to my mouth.
I can’t tell for sure, but I think I hear a click of Luke’s bedroom door.
Now that I’m alone, I can let go. I press the spoon into my mouth, and as the maple syrup spreads over my tongue, I moan so deeply and loudly that my cock goes full mast.
There’s no holding me back. I scoop it faster, letting the taste sink over my tongue. I want to keep going and become a bottomless pit of maple syrup oatmeal, because I can’t let this end. Tasting something for the first time in ten fucking years is a gift.
I press the spoon inside my mouth, drawing it backward and forward so I can suck on it and deepen the feeling.
My cock is aching as I keep eating, diving into the taste. The more I eat, the more I’m reminded of all the sweet tastes I used to love before Kane broke my nose.
Candy apples, lemon sorbet, fucking brownies and cream.
I moan again as the sweetness takes me higher.
I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have moaned in front of Luke, but it’s too hard when he’s given me something I pretend I haven’t wanted for years.
Falling forward, my elbow lands on the counter as I roll my hips and shovel more oatmeal into my mouth. There’s only an inch between me and the bowl, and I’m eating it so quickly that I can’t breathe between bites. But I just want more.
Luke’s in his room, and there’s no one else within 500 yards of the house. It wouldn’t hurt to ease my ache, right? I can't leave like this anyway, so it's better to get it over with.
I groan as another spoonful of oatmeal convinces me.
Lifting my elbow, I run my hand under the counter to press against my tented slacks. The second I cup myself, a low growl pours from me.
If I’m going to do this, I need to be quick. If Luke catches me, I have no idea what he’ll do.
My eyes shudder closed as I force my hand under my tight waistband, gripping my hard length as I take another bite.
I know what I want Luke to do. With his teasing smile, crouching between my legs, looking up at me as he rises on his knees to wrap his hands around my cock.
I moan out loud as I think of how he’d react, how his voice would lilt in that way it does, and moan as he wraps his lips around my cockhead, never breaking his confident stare.
“Fuck,” I hiss as I stroke myself. I can’t remember the last time I jerked off.
I try not to do it unless I’m in rut because I end up thinking of Kane, and it feels like he’s won.
I’ll never admit to him how much I like the way Kane teases me, and how I’m not against going further with him, except I don’t want to give him one up on me.
My balls are heavy, and my cock is so hard that I’m straining under my own skin as I rub myself. My hips tremor, my mind goes blank with pleasure as I suck down more oatmeal.
It’s coming too fast. The oatmeal is too good, and the friction of my hand on my cock as the head presses against my slacks makes it even better.
I wish I didn’t have such an active imagination. No matter how Luke looks at me, it’s not right to imagine the way he would open his soft mouth, his tongue wide, flattening his piercing hard against my cock as he licks up to my—
“No, dammit,” I curse. I can’t stop now.
My chin dips forward, and I push my head into the bowl, lapping at it to suck up the last dregs of oatmeal. There’s still more in the pot, but I can’t let myself go anywhere near it after this.
My pleasure is building, the tingles burning through me, buzzing up my shaft as I palm my cockhead.
I’m almost there, just one more stroke, one more lick of maple syrup, and my eyes roll as I groan.
“Shit,” I gasp as I press my hand against the top of my cock, panting, snarling over my bowl like some animal gorging, exactly like Luke said.
I catch my cum, crying out too loudly as sparks fly.
The bowl is clean, but I keep on lapping at it as pleasure pours through me and my whole body sings. If Luke finds me like this, I’ll never live it down.
I’m still holding my cock, looking up at the silver pot on the stove in shock.
There’s no way I can go any further. I can’t take any more.
I said I’d stay away from it. My stomach is full, but my cock is growing hard again as I run my tongue over my lips, licking up those very last drops of maple syrup.
I don’t want to move, but it’s right there. I need one more taste. Just one more…
“I’m the worst,” I growl to myself as I push off my stool, keep my hand on my cock, and walk over to the pot.