Samantha
SAMANTHA
A loud bang makes me jolt awake, and I look around the room. The morning light shines through the window, making the space bright and airy. Chandler and I fell asleep on the couch last night, too tired to go upstairs. He’s not on the couch, and I hear a sound from the kitchen. I get up and go to the kitchen. Wow, this is something I didn’t think I’d ever see in my entire existence. Chandler is making breakfast. And he looks amazing doing it, I might add. There’s something about a man that cooks that’s always been a big turn-on for me.
“Morning," I say. He looks at me and pauses for a moment. It’s too early for anyone to look this good. His eyes travel up and down my body, and when I look down, I realize I’m not wearing any bottoms. No shorts, no underwear. I’m completely bare. The long shirt I’d gotten at the thrift store is hardly long enough to cover me up. Chandler clears his throat and looks away. “I made you coffee.”
“Thank you," I say. “I’ll be right back.”
I exit the kitchen and hastily race upstairs to the guest room to get dressed. I put on shorts and panties, then use the restroom and head back downstairs to the kitchen. Chandler has set two plates of eggs on the dining table like he did last night with dinner, with a glass of water next to one plate and a coffee mug next to the other. My stomach flips.
“Thanks, Chandler," I say and sit at the table. I sip the coffee, and it’s warm and sweet, the taste of cinnamon and vanilla waking me up. He sits across from me and takes a bite of his scrambled eggs.
“I wasn’t sure how you liked them, so I just scrambled them.”
“Scrambled is fine," I say. “I’m surprised you know how to cook them any other way.”
“I don’t.” He smiles, and I laugh. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t try to experiment.”
“My sister is going to be here later to see the house. Tomorrow morning, I’ll call the tow truck, but she can take us back to the hotel so we can check out and get going.”
“Sounds good," I say, but my stomach drops even thinking about this ending. Whatever this is. Maybe I'm thinking too much into it.
I smile cheekily at him. “I think staying in a sauna for 3 days is doing wonders for my pores.”
“At least one of us is benefiting from it. It’s not doing wonders for my sanity.”
“I can vouch for that. No way you’d cook two meals for anyone, let alone me if the heat hadn’t rewired your brain.”
“You think it’s malfunctioning?”
“Most likely. Pretty sure robots break when they overheat.”
“Again, with the robot jokes.” He shakes his head and looks at me with a smirk. “You think I was also wired to give females several orgasms in one night?”
My cheeks flare, and I take a sip of my coffee and cross my legs to relieve some of the ache between my thighs. Why the hell do I get so turned on around all the time?
“I’m willing to test that theory," he says.
“I’m sure you are.” I finish my eggs and sit back in the chair. Thoughts of last night play over in my head, the way his tongue felt on my clit, his mouth all over me. It felt fucking amazing. I’ve never come from oral before- I didn’t think I could. As it turns out, I just needed someone who knew what the hell they were doing. And Chandler definitely knows what he is doing.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“That’s confidential.”
“Is it?”
“Yep.”
His gaze is intense and makes my heart race.
“Are you thinking dirty thoughts, Sam?”
I stare at him, his smug smile, his bright eyes, and his sexy body that’s covered up by his shirt. The answer is yes. All of my thoughts are dirty. I want his mouth over me again, his fingers inside of me, and then I want him to bend me over this dining table so he can fuck me with his beautiful cock and make me come over and over and over again.
“Nope,” I say, deadpan. He stares at me, neither of us breaking eye contact. I watch his eyes skirt over me, my lips, down to my chest, and back to my face. He licks his lips and rubs his chin with his knuckle. I’m aware of every movement from him, and I feel my chest tighten from holding in the lust that I can feel coming to the surface. He gives me a large cheeky smile and says, "Okay then!”
We clear the table and wash the dishes like we did last night. I find myself enjoying the normalcy of it. I hate doing dishes, like any normal person, but the mundane task being shared with him makes it bearable. I’m not sure what that means. I’m not sure what any of the things we’ve been doing on this work trip mean. We’re more than co-workers now, that's obvious. I almost want to consider us friends, but friends don’t go down on each other like we did last night. I wonder what he's thinking of all this. If I ask him, will he laugh and say that we’re still just two co-workers who get under each other skin but like to feel each other up? Will he tell me I’m reading into things too much? I’m not sure what his reaction will be, and I’m not going to ask what he thinks and risk being humiliated. I dry my hands with a paper towel and toss it in the garbage.
“I want to take you somewhere.”
I give him a once over. He’s standing at the sink, arms folded over his chest, casual and laid back in a way that I’m only now realizing has always made me jealous.
“Where?”
He doesn’t answer my question, just shrugs and says, "You’ll love it, but there’s hiking involved.”
“You mean, like, physically?”
He quirks an eyebrow at me and smiles. “Well, yeah. What do you think hiking is? Your tennis shoes should be good, though. It’s an easy trail.”
“Trail? Um, I thought we agreed I wasn’t working out?”
“It’s not working out," he says. “It’s an adventure. I promise you’ll love it.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You will," he says again, objectively.
“Okay?” Weirdly, he’s not telling me where he’s taking me. But what’s even weirder is that he wants to take me anywhere in the first place. I'm suspicious but excited in an odd way. He seems to be excited, too. What the hell is he planning? “I’ll grab some water bottles and snacks.”