Chapter 25 Cravings #2
“Oh my gosh, you’re Sarah B! I’ve been following you from the lounge! I love your voice so much…. Ohhh! We have to get together to sing! Please say yes! I’m Vanessa Reed. Hi!” the redhead half-screeches into the screen, her gray eyes widening with excitement at seeing Sarah.
I frown, furrow my brows and look down at her. I want to hear her sing; I want to see her at the lounge. Hell, I just want her.
Sarah blushes as she gingerly pulls away from me, and in the slowness and hesitancy of her movements, I see when she realizes just how compromising a position we were in.
My thigh was pressed high and hard into the heat between her legs, and my hand that was curved around her hip falls away just as reluctantly, as she stares rather dumbfoundedly into the screen at Johnathan and Vanessa.
“Wait, you’re with that band! Oh my God, I’ve seen you perform once!” Sarah's unease vanishes as her happy mood comes back.
She laughs, getting up close and personal with the google screen.
I'm left sort of reeling, wondering if I'm the only one as affected by this attraction between us. I hurriedly stop the trajectory of my thoughts; I can't be wondering how she feels about me. It'd be beyond selfish.
Sarah grabs up the video screen, and I don't like how close she is to the grease so I shoo her away from the stove, causing her eyes to meet me once more. Except now, there's a hint of something feisty in them. I give her a wicked grin.
“Please, Alexander, I’m Black; I think I know my way around some grease.
” She admonishes me, turning back to the screen and leaning her hips against the counter.
The sizzle becomes louder as I add more cutlets into the pan, and I purposefully ignore her as she turns a questioning gaze to me.
“Who’s going to eat all that?” she asks softly, her brown eyes turning to meet mine as I finally allow myself to break out into a full smile.
I lean forward slightly, bringing our faces close together as if I'm sharing a secret.
“Well, you didn’t answer my text, so I made two cutlets spicy and two not spicy.
” I throw her a wry glance as I back my way to our wine glasses, taking the bottle of wine out of its chilling station and pouring us each a healthy glass.
"You eat as much as you want." I pause. "Well, just leave me one," I murmur.
Something like shame flits across her face, making me feel unsettled.
“Ohhh…I’m sorry, Alexander. I didn’t not respond on purpose.
” She turns back to my friends on the screen as she accepts the glass I hold out to her, tilting the video so we're both in it, and she’s pressed against my side again.
While the women are talking, I work to pick open the black box she'd shoved at me before her scare.
"Is this for me?" I murmur to her quietly, trying to get the damn thing open. I'm so excited that my fingers won't work right. When's the last time someone gave me something just because?
Sarah gives me a little look and nods her head, nudging me with her shoulder. "It's yours," she whispers back before turning back to the screen where Vanessa's got a goofy smile on her face, watching us.
I inch to the side, feeling vulnerable as that fire creeps up my neck and makes me burn just a little bit hotter.
“Vanessa, I would love to sing with you. Give me your number, I’ll save it and text you!” Sarah says, thrusting the video screen to me and turning to reach her phone, forcing me to put my present down.
Eyeing the food, I wait patiently while the girls exchange information before I confirm meeting with Johnathan at the boxing ring on Wednesday evening and hanging up. I look down at Sarah. The strands fall all around her in big bouncy waves as she sips her wine.
God, she's beautiful. How could that man fucking hit her? Worthless piece of shit.
"How's your back?" I ask, stepping into her and wrapping my arm around her shoulder.
I pull her slowly into me, so she won't feel threatened, and press the side of my head into hers for a proper hug.
I've missed her since she left my office.
I feel sad at how stiff she goes against me, as if not used to the intimacy, and I'm sure instinctively wanting to protect her back.
"It's still bothering me, but I'm okay," she says softly.
She clears her throat, and I can tell this is something that she isn't wanting to discuss as she purposefully averts her gaze, quickly grabbing up the black box and handing it to me again. Like it's a buffer between us.
“It’s not my birthday,” I say with a teasing grin as I pluck at the box again, finally getting it open and seeing a nice leather wallet that has my initials on it.
I break out into a wide smile. “Thank you, Sarah. I love it!” I fight the urge to hug her again; instead, I turn back to the stove and switch it off, taking the finished chicken off the pan and laying it on paper towels.
“I knew you would because you’re a Cancer. I don’t know how to feel about that.” Her tone is light as she teases me.
I scoff as she grins back, and I realize this woman really is playful.
I muse this over as I take a bowl of homemade buffalo sauce and begin dipping the chicken in it, leaving two plain.
“What?” I admonish with a little laugh, turning to look at her and clacking the tongs together loudly. “What are you talking about, woman?”
Her eyes go wide, and her face flushes even deeper, causing my dick to tighten almost painfully hard. “You’re a Cancer, the absolute emotional crybaby of all the astrology signs!” she says with a laugh of her own.
The way she calls me out on my emotions, even though I've attempted to be nothing but polite, stoic, and professional, melts me just enough that I snap, turning to face her.
Sarah squeals and gasps as I slowly crowd her against the island.
I place my hands on either side of her body on the countertop and lean into her.
Her big doe eyes go even impossibly wider in her face, and her lips part slightly as she takes a breath.
Immediately the sweet yet bold marshmallow smell of her perfume assaults my senses, and I feel myself become a little bit more lost in her. The shudders in her breathing as my lips graze her ear verifies to me that I'm not imagining the attraction between us.
This illustrious pull intricately binds us together.
“Do you really want me to show you how big of a baby I can be about things, Sarah?” I rasp into her ear, leaning into her briefly to grab two of the salad bowls, and then pulling away to bring it over to where the chicken is resting.
I'll let her think about that for a while.
Hopefully, it tortures her the way I'm being tortured.
She bites her lip almost nervously as I begin to roughly chop up the buffalo chicken, spreading it evenly between the two bowls that I loaded with salad, and the various accoutrements. With a side of olives just like she likes.
“Nope, not necessary,” she says, swallowing thickly.
“I went ahead and ordered a swimsuit just as you requested, Dr. Richardson.
You were more than clear in your office today.
" She makes a little shocking pleasant noise, making me wonder if she likes someone taking control.
So, we're going to start with how I want her to address me.
“Good, and it’s Alex,” I quip.
I sprinkle feta cheese on top of our bowls and hand hers to her before grabbing the dressing and taking it over to the table. She follows a few steps behind. I set everything down and then pull out her chair with a little grin, giving her a wink.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear shyly. "Oh you don't have to—"
"Nonsense."
The tension immediately thickens between us.
She blinks at me, and we engage in another small standoff that I'm quickly discovering is our thing. She rolls her lips before murmuring her thanks and sitting down carefully.
"You're welcome." I'm so pleased she didn't put up a fight.
I round the table, sitting down across from her in the nook at the bay window.
I notice the lights illuminating the property outside in the back where the sun has almost completely set, throwing the sky into dusky hues of lavender and pink.
She's also staring out the window with a rather interesting expression, and I wonder if she likes the landscaping.
"Are you hungry?" I ask her.
Taking a sip of my wine, I watch as she blinks lazily and turns her head almost as if she's in a daze to meet my eye. I give her another smile, just wanting her to be with me, engage in conversation with me. I'm starving for something from her. Anything.
“Oh, yes," she giggles. "Your koi pond looks so beautiful, though, I can't help but stare when I sit here. I hope I don't look crazy—"
"You look beautiful." I interrupt quickly. My tone is low, deeper than what I'd like for it to have been, but I couldn't help it. She does something to me.
"Oh…well…thank you," she says quietly, setting my blood on fire.
"And thank you so much for making this!” Her appreciative tone strikes right through to my heart, lighting me up, and begins to cleanse that part of me that's been so defeated, defiled, and colored black with bitterness from years of being rejected and neglected by my ex-spouse.
I take a second to unroll my linen napkin, placing it over my thigh. "You're welcome! It really was my pleasure. I enjoy cooking. It's one of my love languages," I share, watching her carefully.
She grabs the blue cheese dressing and pours a small amount on her salad.
“Honestly…” she starts and then cocks her head to the side and stares back out the window, concentrating for a few moments.
My brows rise as she frowns slightly. “You know, I don’t think anyone’s ever made me this before, and it’s my absolute favorite salad!
” she finishes with a smile, biting her lip and doing a little happy wiggle.