Page 56 of Something So Strong

I’m in the kitchen by the time I’ve talked myself back into staying because I know I can’t leave Saxon.

The joint is packed, but empty or full. I don’t care. I’m not even certain I can eat as I slump into a seat at the last empty table. I know I’m hungry, but the way my stomach is turning over itself, I’d just as likely projectile whatever I force down.

“Maw, did you come back to have lunch with me?” Soft hands slide over my shoulders until Cleo’s arms are wrapped around my neck and she’s pushing her giant tits into the back of my head. I should love it—and I guess part of me does—but no matter how hot she is, and no matter what she’s offering, there’s no way I’m up for it.

“Na. Just didn’t feel like eating at the hotel.” I lie.

Releasing me, Cleo pulls out the seat beside me. “You just missed Romeo.”

It’s like she’s my ample bosomed guardian angel, because humor at a friend’s expense will always lighten my mood. “How did he look?”

“Not great… Still hot as fuck, though.”

I roll my eyes. “You have the most one-track mind of any girl I’ve ever met.”

“Why thank you.” She does a little bow like it’s a compliment.

“So, you and Romeo seemed close the other night.”

With a swift, sharp exhale, Cleo’s eyes unfocus. It’s quick, but I spot it—a tiny crack in her shell. “Yeah? What about it?” she says confidently, running her hand through the top of her hair and letting it fall seductively to the side. “We had a great night. Might hit him up again later.” Leaving her elbows on the edge of the table, she slides her chair back until her tits almost fall out of her top before standing. “I’m getting a drink. You want one?”

“Coke, thanks.”

She nods, holds two cans in her left hand, then steps to the side. “Food?” she calls back to me.

“What is there?”

“Not much… Sweet or savory?”

“Sweet.”

Chin on her shoulder, she winks back at me and jiggles her hips.

Smirking, I shake my head and contemplate whether I should tell her it didn’t have the desired effect. Quite the opposite actually, because no matter how good she may look, all I see is Romeo standing in the kitchen of Saxon’s terrace back in London. Apron on, with only black boxer briefs underneath, cooking us breakfast like he did every Sunday morning.

And goddamn, all that proves is how whipped for Kai I am. Not even a solid ten. Flaunting herself in front of me has my brain fantasizing about what sounds she’d make if I bent her over the sink.

“Bon appetit.” Cleo slides a plate of brownies and muffins onto the table.

“Cheers.” I take a can from her hand and wait until she’s seated before picking up a brownie. “It’s a bit dry,” I mumble.

“They always are. But being free makes them taste a little better.”

“Hate to know what they’d taste like if I paid.” I return it to the plate and poke at one of the muffins. “Why are you here for lunch, anyway? Don’t you get free food on the mountain?”

“First lesson isn’t till one.”

“Fuck. You really do have it easy.”

“Being a skilled worker is the best. We get paid the same amount for a whole day of work, no matter how many lessons we do. And if we flirt just right, there’s a big fat tip in it too.”

“And I’m sure you know exactly what to utilize.” I wave my hand towards her cleavage.

“If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” She shakes her chest, and I stare. She wants me to, so it would be rude not to. “So, how’s work going with you? Having fun with Kai?”

My gaze falls from lusciousness to the table, then to each individual crumb surrounding the plate between us until I’m staring at my own twiddling fingers.

“Oh, god,” she giggles. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

---