Page 62 of Bite Me

We’re the only two people in the kitchen as my watch beeps, signaling eight o’clock. All I’m doing now is watching her. There’s nothing better for me to do, and at least if I can watch her, I know she’s safe.

My phone vibrates, but I can’t talk to Florence now.

She throws her pan down. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a sadist?”

“That one is new.”

“You don’t torture anyone else like this.”

“Everyone else here has a year or more under their belt. I’m trying to help you catch up. You’re good, but you can be better.”

“Well, you could do it a little nicer.”

“How would you prefer your feedback? Praise only?”

She rolls her eyes.

“I don’t get you. All I want to do is talk about last night, and you won’t let me. Just talk to me minus the sarcasm.”

“Still not sure what you’re talking about. Nothing happened.”

“Who was that guy?”

“What guy?”

She groans, unbuttoning her white coat. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Oh, did I finally piss you off?”

“Well, yes! What is it about me that vexes you so much that you like to torture me? I just want to help you. I want to understand you, and you won’t let me. I’ve never met someone this infuriating.”

Because I’m obsessed with you.

Because I can’t stop.

I can’t stay away from you.

With her jacket off, I have a clear view of her cleavage. I place a hand on the counter between me and the door.

“Are you finally quitting? I just want to make sure you clean out your locker before you go.”

She takes a long inhale. I fucking love that. Her body is reacting to mine as mine does to hers.

“As if I’d ever give you the satisfaction. I’d rather die.”

Her shoulders fall as she gets comfortably close to my chest.

“You like the way I smell,” I say. A part of me wants to hear her admit it. To know I have any type of effect on her, like she has on me.

She scoffs. “Too bad it can’t make up for your repugnant personality. I took my jacket off because it’s after hours, and I need some air. Are you going to reprimand me?”

“Is that really all it takes to get you a little flustered?” I tease.

“I’m not. Now move. I’ve got two dozen éclairs to make, apparently.”

Her arousal seeps into the air between us, and I tighten my grip on the counter. This is fucking impossible. How can this one woman have me so enthralled? Wrapped around her finger and wanting to satisfy her every whim?

When I don’t move, she sighs. “You really should be nicer to me.”