Page 77 of Whispers in the Dark
“You’re my first official student,” she tells me, chuckling. “I’m hoping one of these days I’ll get a call that will change things for me, but for now…well, I just keep sending out my resume and praying to the teaching gods.” She sighs, and I look over my shoulder, seeing her resting her chin in the palm of her hand.
I reach into the drawer, grabbing a scrap of paper and a pen. Scribbling quickly, I fold it neatly and slide it across the counter toward her.
She smiles, unfolding it. “‘You’re a really good teacher,’” she reads aloud, a slight blush covering her cheeks. “Thanks. Although I’m beginning to think my student knows more than he’ll ever admit to and I can’t figure out why…”
Feigning shock, I mouth,me?
She laughs. “Yes, you.”
I grab another piece of paper, scribble a note, and pass it to her.I would be happy to reach out to some contacts to help you get a teaching job. It wouldn’t be a problem. You could have a new job by the end of the week.
She reads it, but shakes her head. “I appreciate the offer. Really, I do. But I want to earn this on my own.” She stares down at the counter, tracing her finger in a languid circle. “I’ve workedso hard for this. I’d hate to achieve my dream from a favor, instead of my own merit.”
I nod in understanding. Turning my attention to the meal, I carefully bring the skillet to the island, plating her portion first, then my own. I grab two rolls, setting one beside each plate, before sliding into my seat beside her.
She watches me for a moment, then picks up her fork and drags it through the sauce. “I hope you like it.”
I stab a piece of the chicken and penne, and place it in my mouth and…Oh fuck me, this is good.
Dropping my fork, I look at her and sign,Amazing.
“Really?” she beams, taking a bite.
I take another bite, closing my eyes for just a moment, and hold back a moan as the flavors—rich, garlicky, and perfectly seasoned—dance across my tongue. What the hell did she put in this?
“Wow, you’re right, this is good,” she says through a mouthful, eyes lighting up with each bite.
I scrape the side of my fork against the plate, ensuring I don’t miss a single drop of the sauce. She could make this for me every night, and I’d be one happy man.
Of course, I don’t expect her to.
I want to cook for her too.
I want her to be able to relax and unwind after a long day.
Maybe tonight after dinner, I’ll run a bath for her. One where she has a glass of her favorite wine in her hand and one of those chocolates she loves so much, the ones she gets from Madeleine. Maybe I’ll text Madeleine to ask where she gets the damn things from. They’re probably from another country, but I don’t care, I’ll overnight them.
And then, when Alina is fully relaxed, I’ll satisfy her until all of her needs are met. Not mine.Hers.Starting by licking her pussyuntil she’s screaming out my name. I shovel the last bite into my mouth. Fuck, yes. Tonight, I’m going to make Alina see—
“Mauro?”
I freeze, the fork slipping from my fingers as my thoughts scatter.
“You already finished,” she observes, a soft note of amusement in her voice.
I glance down at my plate and realize she’s right.
“Guess you probably want dessert then, huh?”
I tilt my head, letting my gaze linger on her. The flush creeping across her cheeks isn’t from the wine. And the fact that her mind is in the same place as mine, well, it makes me instantly hard.
Carefully, I slip a hand beneath her chair and draw her closer until our legs brush. A shiver runs subtly through her, making my pulse spike.
She bites her bottom lip, eyes flicking down before meeting mine again. “You’ve been so busy since we got back,” she murmurs, her voice quiet, almost hesitant, “that we haven’t really had a chance to talk about… what happened while we were away. I thought maybe…you were avoiding me.”
Her attention drifts to her plate as she drags the fork through the pasta, then lets it fall with a quiet clink, pushing the plate aside. I feel a pang of guilt.
I’ve been an asshole.
