Page 3 of Starving for Her

“Like I said, I didn’t think I was going to come, and I didn’t have much time,” she explains. “So I made some pulled pork in my instant pot—normally I would slow cook it—and then some homemade corn bread and some sweet pineapple cucumber salad.”

“Pineapple cucumber salad,” I ask, impressed. “And pulled pork?”

“Yeah, I figured you’re used to foie-gras and caviar,” she replied, brushing a few stray hairs from her face. “So I thought I’d go with something a bit more like what you’d eat at home. I know you’re an inventor and probably just want something you can eat while you’re working.”

Fuck. Not only is she gorgeous, but she also has a head on her shoulders.

“I like you,” I tell her, grabbing a fork. I try a bite of the pork and it’s fantastic. She looks at me nervously as I try the salad, a combination I’ve never heard of. It’s great. She’s great. This is all fucking great.

“Is it…all right?”

“All right?” I chuckle. “It’s fucking great. You’ve got the job.”

And more.

Her eyes light up. “I—I do?”

You’ll be saying that again very soon.

“I do too,” I tell her with a smile, causing her to blush redder than a hot pepper. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Just a little joke.”

But not really.

She’s not a thot; I know she didn’t come here to fuck me and take my money, but I can’t stop myself.

One of her hairs has fallen back in her face, and I reach up and smooth it back, the heat of her body causing the flames inside me to roar to new heights. I’m rock hard and ready to bust out of my pants as my eyes sweep across her body.

“You know this is a live-in position right?”

She looks up at me with an astonished look. She didn’t.

“Oh, I—I didn’t really read the whole ad,” she stutters. “I…don’t know if I can do that.”

“Why not?” I ask her. “Living with your boyfriend?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she replies quickly, as though the idea was ridiculous to her. “I just…I have a job and I know…that could lead to…unprofessional things.”

“Like this?” I ask.

Without hesitating, I wrap my arm quickly around her back and pull her to me. She looks up and my lips meet hers, and my world seems to explode. Fire pulses in my dick as I feel her tits, plump and firm, pressing against my chest through the fabric of her sweatshirt. She kisses me back, a soft moan escaping from her mouth into mine. I move my other hand to her ass and squeeze, but she jumps back like a timid doe.

“No,” she says. “This—this can’t happen. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. This is why I almost didn’t come. I knew it would be like this—”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” I tell her. “I just turned away countless girls who wanted to fuck me, Layla. I’m not one of those guys.”

She shakes her head, her eyes on the floor.

“Okay, yeah…uhm…,” she says, frowning. “I’m gonna go. You can keep the pulled pork. I’m sorry I was late.”

“Layla, wait—” I say, but it’s too late. She’s already walking away from me. I follow her to the front door. “Layla, wait!”

“Good night, Mr. Russell!” she calls out over her shoulder, denying me a final glimpse of her gorgeous face. Her ass bounces beautifully as she takes the steps down to the driveway and hops into her station wagon. She doesn’t even look at me as she pulls off, leaving me standing there gobstruck with a hard dick and a desperate ache within me.

But I have to smile. Just when I thought I knew everything about women, Layla came in like an earthquake and changed it all, and if she thinks this is going to be the last time she sees me, then she’s wrong—oh so very wrong.

---