“I’m simultaneously exhausted and still horny,” Ingrid groaned, resting her head on my chest.
We arrived hours ago but hadn’t left the bed. This was round three. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep my hands off Ingrid. She was irresistible. Ignoring her was torture. And lying naked in bed with her could have cured any man’s ills.
I kissed the top of her head. “I hate to tell you I’m done, but I am done. There is a limit, Ingrid, and you’ve reached it.”
She stared up at me, pouting. “Forever or just for this evening.”
“I need eight uninterrupted hours to recharge,” I explained.
“Hmm. So, I’ll wake you at four-thirty. Anyway, I’m hungry,” Ingrid said.
“Why don’t you dress, and I will make you dinner?”
“Late dinner?”
“It’s still dinner, darling.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
I pulled myself out of bed, dressed, and padded to the kitchen to make a garlic butter chicken dish she’d die for. It was simple but came out delicious. If there was one dish I could count on to impress awoman, it was this. Not that I needed to impress her. I don’t even know why I bothered. I had every ounce of her in the palm of my hand. I set her ablaze with just my fingers.
Duncan appeared as I was laying out the ingredients.Fuck!
I wasn’t sure how I forgot this ripple in my plan, but I did. I’d have to come clean before Ingrid appeared, and this got beyond awkward. It was best to be honest.
“What are you making? And can I eat it?” Duncan asked, dropping into the chair at the small kitchen table.
“Garlic butter chicken. I don’t know,” I sighed. “I am not cooking for you.”
“Who did you shag? Do you have a girl here?” Duncan asked. Even he was onto my usual go-to recipe.
“I…” I turned from where I prepped the broccoli and stared at him. “You’re like an annoying younger brother, so I will be honest with you, Duncan.”
“Uh-huh. So, there’s totally a girl upstairs. You thought I would be gone, but I can’t leave. So, I’m cramping your style. Is she hot?”
“Duncan, can you get any more immature?”
“What? It’s a valid fucking question.”
“Is it? Yes. Of course, she’s hot.”
He wanted more answers out of me. I decided to give them to him.
“It’s Ingrid.”
“Ingrid? Like… Cici’s friend? The Neandian girl? The smokeshow?”
“Yes.”
“She’s here… and you’re trying to get in her pants?”
I shrugged.
“Oh, wait. Have you already fucked her? God damn you! Does Lars know? He’s going to beat you to a pulp?—”
“Lars isn’t going to do shit. And… I’m not getting into details.”
“Is she fun?” Duncan asked. “Fuck, I bet she’s fun. I bet she’s a screamer.”