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I wanted to shock the desire out of my system with the splash of cold water, knowing it would only be worse if I fed into it. But I couldn’t seem to stop my hand from sliding down, from grabbing my cock and starting to stroke to thoughts of her.
What can I say?
It had probably been too long since I’d gotten laid.
There was no denying that much repressed desire.
It probably didn’t even have anything to do with Elizabeth personally.
Though, even as I tried to convince myself of that, it was absolutely her face I was seeing in my mind, lowering down to her knees, her pretty blue eyes focused on me as her hand wrapped around my cock, then dipping her head to suck me into her mouth.
I came hard to the idea of her working me with her mouth, but somehow felt just as frustrated as before I’d gone into the shower as when I made my way out, getting myself dressed before I went out to the kitchen to find she’d already made me a coffee.
“You seemed to like it the last time,” she said with a shy little smile that told me she absolutely hadn’t missed my reaction to our little run-in before.
“I did, thanks. My boss’s wife got me into frozen coffees a while back. But I think this might be even better,” I told her. “Are you hungry?” I asked as I took a sip, knowing it was way too sweet of a drink first thing in the morning, but enjoying the fuck out of it regardless.
“I don’t have time to order anything,” she said, checking her phone that she had sitting on the island.
“I was going to make something,” I said.
“You cook?” she asked, brows shooting up.
“You don’t?”
“Well, I can… no,” she admitted with a head shake. “My mom absolutely hated cooking. I think the only time we had actual home-cooked meals growing up was on holidays when someone else was actually cooking,” she told me. “My mom was the queen of the microwave and frozen dinners. I guess I just… never really learned.
“Then in college, it was all about what was cheap. I think I existed wholly on—and developed very strong feelings about—ramen, bananas, and peanut butter sandwiches for four years.
“And ever since then, I just haven’t had the time to learn. I will sometimes have like yogurt or instant oatmeal in the morning. But every other meal is usually ordered in. Did your mom cook?”
“My mom, my aunts, even some of my uncles. My family is big on food,” I explained. “My ma said it was a life skill, and boys need to learn that shit just as much as the girls do. So I learned young. Can I make you something?”
“I mean, if you’re offering, I’m not going to turn you down,” she said with an eager smile.
Knowing she was short on time, I got to work on simple omelets with cheese, some spinach, and bacon. I felt the almost overwhelming urge to make an entire fucking spread, to impress her, but I tamped that down, knowing it was only going to feed into the growing interest I clearly had in a woman who was only going to be a transient part of my life.
The moan she made as she had her first bite, though, had me wanting to say Fuck it to my convictions not to let things get physical.
“Good?” I asked, watching her cut off another bite and shove it in her mouth.
“I know you have a job and everything, but I think you missed your calling as a chef,” she told me.
“You like this, you’re gonna love an actual full meal,” I said, starting to eat my own food even if my appetite was for something else entirely. “If you give me a roundabout time you might be home, I can make dinner.”
“You don’t have—“ she started.
“I want to,” I cut her off.
“I’ve been trying not to stay too late anymore,” she admitted. “I leave when the interns and staff head out. Maybe… eight?” she said.
“I can do eight. You’ll take a ride share back and forth, right?” I asked, wishing I could offer to drive her. But the only thing worse than her being on her own was her being seen with me again, letting the Bratva think we had some sort of plant inside the senator’s world.
If we wanted a full-scale war, that would be a good way to go about getting it.
It might come to that regardless. But I was sure Renzo wanted us to pick off their new allies and cut down their numbers before we actually had to face off with the fucks.
The longer I could keep Elizabeth’s presence in my life a secret, the better.
