Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 15902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 80(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 53(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 80(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 53(@300wpm)
For Emily, it was her first time hearing James raise his voice.
“They’re beautiful,” she said, looking at the roses.
“And they’re for you. They’re not nearly as beautiful as you.”
She laughed. “I’m still mad.”
“You can be mad. You made dinner for me.”
“I told you I would. I spent all night working on it. It gave me something to do.” She wasn’t about to admit she’d also spent time watching porn as she wanted to be prepared for what happened next.
You don’t know if he even wants sex with you yet.
He had his face in my pussy.
Doesn’t mean sex is the next step.
She really had to stop thinking about sex and James, especially with him in the room. She’d never had a boyfriend, and up until recently, she hadn’t felt guys were necessary in her life. Until James.
He’d been part of her life now for a few years. In his way, he’d been there when her parents were killed, and she remembered him coming to the hospital to see her every single day. Whenever she was upset, he’d take care of it, and no one would mess with him. He always stepped in to help her, to guide her. He was one of the best men she knew, apart from her dad, but he was gone.
At first, she’d felt affection for James. He was a good friend, a great buddy, and a friendly boss.
Only, one day, she couldn’t even remember when, he’d crossed over the threshold of being a good buddy to being so much more, of meaning a great deal to her, even now. She couldn’t be angry at him forever; she didn’t like the feeling.
Putting the flowers in a vase, she put some water on them, and followed him out to her small dining room table.
She’d already set two places, and with a small glance around the room she knew it looked like she was trying to … woo him.
Was this a date?
She put the flowers on the coffee table before taking a seat opposite him.
“How was work?” Did that sound too familiar? Too corny? Too much like a wife? Get a grip, Emily.
“It was great. I closed up early, but it was a slow night.”
“Apart from your almost fight.”
“Exactly.”
“Awesome,” she said.
All the time she’d been around James, she never felt awkward or confused. Right now, she was nervous.
“Don’t worry,” James said. He reached across the table, taking her hand. “You don’t have to be nervous about anything.”
She laughed. “Please, I’m not nervous, not even close.”
“You’re shaking.”
“It’s nothing.” She waved her hand in the air, and again, she had no idea why she did that, but now, she was starting to feel a little out of it.
“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”
“Yay, cute.” She pressed her lips together and instead, pulled off a piece of garlic bread. She took a bite as James served up the pasta.
Picking up her fork, she waited for him to have a taste.
He closed his eyes as he took the first bite, and she wondered if he liked it? Hated it?
“Oh, wow, I had no idea you could cook,” he said. He took another bite.
“Do you like it?”
“Like it? I fucking love it.”
She watched him take a couple more bites before having a taste herself. She always enjoyed experimenting. With living alone, it made experimenting seem pointless, but she recalled all the times she’d stood with her mother as she was at the stove, cooking and baking up a storm.
“I’m really glad you like it.”
They ate their food, and James asked her about her day. She told him about Nancy, and her trip to the grocery store. It was all mundane, and it certainly wasn’t what Emily wanted to talk about.
After their food, James cleared away the plates, and Emily moved to her sitting room, taking a seat, staring straight ahead.
She was nervous.
This was her first date.
James returned to her seconds later. He’d grabbed himself a beer and handed her a glass of water. She didn’t drink.
“Thank you.”
“So, ask me whatever it is you want to ask,” he said.
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Emily, I know you. I know you don’t think I do, but I do.”
“How?”
“I’ve watched you.”
“Isn’t that a little creepy?”
“Does it bother you?” he asked. “I’ve kept an eye on you for a long time. I know when something is on your mind, and right now, you’re worried. Talk to me.”
She took a sip of her water. “This is all so new.”
“I know.” He put his hand on her knee. “Is this too much?”
“No, it’s … fine. It’s more than fine.”
“Good.” He stroked her knee, and she turned to look at him.
His dark brown eyes, they looked so tempting. Her heart started to pick up, and in the back of her mind, she had the flashes of the images she’d watched that very day. A yearning unlike anything she’d ever felt started to work up her body, tempting her, encouraging her, driving her.