Page 11 of Spoil
I look up at her with mock incredulity. “I thought wejusttalked about you sitting there and looking pretty. And now you want to ruin that?”
She laughs and shakes her head at me, but I’m starting to think she likes my brand of ridiculous. I’m addicted to her laugh and her moans. I want to hoard them all like a greedy sound dragon.
“Sorry, it’s not fancier,” I say as I spread out my ingredients.
“Food is food; don’t apologize.”
I feign mock offense again. “Food is food!? Where did you hear that? That’s sacrilege. You can’t compare sushi to pizza. Beer to wine? Fine dining and Subway.” I make quick work of spreading Carl’s garlic mayo on the slices of bread before piling on deli meats, cheeses, arugula, olive oil, and vinegar.
She holds up her fingers and counts them off. “One, I’ve never had sushi. Two, I don’t drink. And three, I’ve never had fine dining. So none of those comparisons work for me.”
I finish the sandwiches before holding one up to her mouth.
“Well, we’re going to have to remedy that.”
Her shy smile is back now that I’ve insinuated that we’re going to be seeing each other again. It’s inevitable at this point in my mind.
Chapter seven
Penelope
He pulls the sandwich away from me as I reach for it. He wants to feed it to me.
I roll my eyes.
“I feel like you’re a part of that community that gets off on feeding people,” I say, but lean in and take a bite, anyway. The flavors of vinegar and meat, and arugula, explode on my tongue, and I close my eyes and moan. As I chew, the flavors meld and combine to create the most amazing taste.
“Nell? Babe? I need you to stop making noises like that. I am a red-blooded man. I only have so much control.”
I laugh with my lips closed, but when I open my eyes, his face is serious, pupils blown wide, and he’s staring at my mouth.
Nervously, I chew and swallow. Slowly, ever so slowly, he comes to stand between my knees and rests his hands on them. He’s moving slowly, deliberately, giving me every opportunity to stop him. But instead, my heart speeds up and my breathing quickens. His dark eyes bounce between mine and back down to my mouth.
God, he’sright there. The heat is rolling off his body, and he smells like chlorine and cologne. I lay the sandwich on the counter next to me, ready to be fully involved in whatever is about to happen.
I bring my hands to his chest, and he pauses, thinking I’m pushing him away. Instead, I fist his shirt and drag him closer, with a breathy ‘please’ before his lips crash into mine. This thing we’ve been orbiting around since first seeing each other is swelling to a crescendo. A fiery warmth, a need, a passion. I need this man more than my next breath. Our kiss quickly turns desperate as we both open to each other, and our tongues tangle.
My hands snake up his neck and through his hair. He spreads my legs further and presses closer against me. I’m still too far back on the counter, though, so he grabs my ass in his hands and tugs me against him. He’s the perfect height so that I can feel the hard ridge of him at my core. I moan again and wrap my legs around the backs of his thighs to keep him there, but he pulls away, breathing hard.
“My room. Now,” he grunts out, running a hand through his hair and pacing in the small area. Seeing such a confident, carefree man this frazzled is incredible for my ego. I think I’m pretty. I’ve had boyfriends. But I’ve never felt special. I’m shy and happy to fade into the background of someone else’s movie. I don’t feel that way with Daniel. I feel desired, needed. He needs me so badly he can’t think straight. After only a day of getting to know each other.
“Yes,” I sigh, as needy as he is.
He starts to storm out of the cafe, but spins around again and wraps the two sandwiches in paper and then storms out again. I laugh, breathless from his kiss and the anticipation of what’s to come. And knowing that he still plans to feed me later.
He locks up behind us and ushers me back to his dorm with a lower hand on my back, practically pushing me. I laugh and try to tease. “Why the rush, big guy?”
But his answer sends a shiver through me. “Need you,” is all he says, low and deep into the dark night.
We pass some people wandering around the little village, now void of patrons and almost eerie in the dark and quiet. Streetlamps lead the way, but they’re spaced out, bouncing us from light to dark suddenly.
At his building, he switches tactics and grabs my hand, tugging me along instead, his long strides eating up the ground. At his level, he throws open his bedroom door so hard it bounces off the wall.
“Go bunk with Becky,” Daniel barks, and I barely have time to take in the darkly tanned man lying on the other bed. He’s still dressed, lying on top of the bed, ankles crossed, typing on his phone.
“Que?” the man asks.
“Go. Becky. Now.” The man finally sees me being dragged behind my once suave, now caveman of a Daniel.
