Page 84 of Mario
She looks up, surprised. “No?”
“I brought the food. I clean.”
She opens her mouth to argue—I can see it in her eyes, the stubborn refusal to yield—but then she closes it. She leans back against the counter, watching as I stack the containers in the fridge, rinse the plates, and load them into her small, efficient dishwasher.
It is such a small, ordinary thing.
But it feels monumental.
When I turn back to her, the kitchen is tidy again, and the only thing left on the table is the container of tiramisu.
Her eyes follow mine.
She looks like she wants to refuse. It's become a habit.
One I greatly enjoy.
One I intend to break.
“A promise is a promise,” I say.
She doesn't argue.
She simply nods.
I get two small forks from the drawer and take the container to her sofa.
She follows.
She doesn't sit right next to me, but not too far away either. Just enough space that I can feel the warmth radiating from her, enough that I can smell the clean scent of her skin, the faint floral trace of her shampoo.
I want to put my mouth at the curve where her neck meets her shoulder and breathe her in.
I open the container and dip in a fork.
The cocoa dusting is too dark, the cream too sweet. Another inferior imitation.
I take a bite.
She takes a bite.
She takes a bite, and her eyes flutter shut for a second. A soft sigh escapes her, barely audible.
My body responds instantly, a pressure building in my groin, at that small, involuntary expression of pleasure.
It's more potent than the most skilled seduction.
“Good?” I ask, my voice rough.
She opens her eyes, and the drowsy pleasure is gone, replaced by a sudden, sharp awareness.
She knows what I am thinking.
“Acceptable,” she says, the corner of her mouth twitching. “Adequate, even.”
I find I want to take her somewhere. Somewhere she can experience the best this world has to offer. I want to give her the best pasta, the best tiramisu in the world. Just to watch her face when she tastes it, hear the noises of pleasure.
I want to clear the table with one sweep of my arm, lay her back on it, and eat my dessert from between her legs. Just to see what noises she would make then.
