Page 35 of Bigfoot Boss
Fuck. I want her. I cannot keep acting like an animal in front of her. She will never stay with me if I do. I race to clean myself up before she can see me in this ridiculous state. I change, putting myself back together, into a gentleman, someone a human wouldn’t be ashamed to be with, and when I walk out of my bedroom, hair combed and outfit nicely in place, I start making dinner.
20
COOCHIE FLUTTER
Bailey
When I emerge from my bedroom in a dry outfit and a clean pair of underwear, Sacha already has dinner cooking on the stove. His back stays to me, even though I’m sure he heard me walk into the room.
“It smells wonderful,” I announce.
“Thank you.” He glances over his shoulder with a polite nod before turning back to the pan grilling on a small gas stove.
I double check my appearance for any evidence that I was rubbing one out to him a few minutes ago, but I think I’m safe. There’s nothing suspicious about my outfit. Sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, covering my least sexy sports bra and a gross pair of underwear. All of it was carefully selected for being far less provocative than my previous outfit. The flirty swimsuit almost got me in trouble.
He’s in different clothes too. Dressed up rather than down, in a pair of pressed slacks, a button down shirt, and a blazer.
“Should I change?” I ask, feeling self conscious.
“No,” he doesn’t even turn around when he says it. “You look perfect.”
His curt tone surprises me. “Can I help with anything?”
“The silverware is in the drawer here.” He nods to one of the two drawers in the small kitchen.
I step toward it, and he jerks out of my way like I’m made out of hot coals.
So much for pretending nothing happened.
I set the small table with plates and cutlery. Then, with a loss for conversation, I sit quietly in one of the Bigfoot-sized chairs, to wait for him to finish cooking. My toes barely graze the ground. I swing my feet idly, wondering if I should apologize for everything that happened earlier. I knew he’d get sick of me eventually, but I didn’t think it would be this quickly, and not because of a silly sexy game of chase through the woods.
Dinner turns out to be grilled salmon and kale salad. It’s the most beautiful home cooking I’ve seen in a long time. He’s clearly familiar with the kitchen.
“I know it’s not much,” He sets two perfectly plated meals on the table.
“Not much?!” I exclaim. “This looks fantastic.” I slice off a bite with my fork and slip it into my mouth, the fish is grilled to perfection, it practically melts on my tongue. “My god, this is fucking amazing!”
His face flicks into a small smile before it drops again. I hate that everything feels different. We were having such a nice time. I felt like I was really getting to know him.
“Sorry,” I say.
“Please, Ms. Thorn, don’t apologize for enjoying yourself.”
“Oh.” I set down my utensils.
“Something wrong?”
“Are we back to Ms. Thorn?”
He drops his gaze, pushing his food around his plate with his fork. “I’m very sorry about losing control earlier. I shouldn’t have let my baser instincts get the better of me. It wasn’t theright way to treat you—to treat a human.” His grip around his silverware tightens, while his eyes remain glued to his plate.
“Who told you that?”
He finally looks up. “I know Bigfoots have different relationship habits than humans.”
“Yeah? So?” I ask.
He leans away from the table. “Human women don’t enjoy being chased through the woods.”
