Chapter 51

Chapter Fifty-One

You are perfect!

I must stifle an amused grin… your daughter is flirting with me. Right next to the counter where I’ve just fucked you so deliciously. And normally, June would be my type. Young, sweet, educated, innocent, and yet with hot curves. But against you, Beauty, everyone stinks. Sorry, little one.

“Thank you for letting me stay, Mrs. Shepherd. Can I at least give you a hand as a thank you?” I ask, stepping a little closer to you.

I can feel your fine hairs stand on end, and you try to suppress the excited shiver that wants to run through your quivering body. Fuck, I’m still so hard that I can barely stand to be near you without bending you over the counter and taking you like this. But I can’t stay away from you either. If I’m not with you, I completely lose my mind. I need to see you, and if that means spending an evening with you and your family, then so be it, as long as I can be close to you.

“Um… no, no… it’s fine,” you stutter awkwardly and grab the casserole dish, probably to have something to do.

But I know exactly what you need, so I decide for you with a rakish grin and take the dish out of your hand.

“Let me do that. I know my way around hot things,” I reply with a grin.

Your jaw drops for a moment, which makes me chuckle.

“I… I’m going to change for dinner before your father gets here,” you inform us, hurrying up the stairs without waiting for another word or an answer.

Shaking my head but still grinning, I look after you before returning to the plates of pasta and the casserole dish that have already been prepared. It almost feels normal that I’m standing in your kitchen preparing dinner for us with your daughter. It could always be like this, Beauty.

“Have you always lived around here or just moved here?” June asks, and her attempts to learn more about me are almost cute.

I conscientiously layer pasta plates, Bolognese, and béchamel sauce in the dish while June watches me with interest every time I pick up a dish and waits spellbound for me to tell her more about myself. Her curious glances at the tattoos on my arms have not escaped my notice. But I’m used to having this effect on women.

“I grew up near here and, with a few interruptions, have always lived in the area,” I explain to her with a polite smile as I continue with my work.

I must be a little careful not to recognize the resemblance to you. June looks so damn much like you. Only the blonde hair is her father’s; the rest is you through and through.

“And you live alone in this big house?” she inquires curiously, leaning a little more over the counter to show more cleavage than she should. Oh, little one…

If she knew I was fucking you on this kitchen island just a few minutes ago, she probably wouldn’t be flirting with me so shamelessly.

“Yes. I’ve always wanted to own a house in a neighborhood like this, and since money isn’t a problem, I could fulfill that little dream. Even if some things need to be repaired, I don’t mind. I enjoy working with my hands,” I tell her, or rather you, as you are just coming back down the stairs.

“Oh, that’s handy, of course, when you don’t have to worry about money at your age… If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do for a living?” The questioning continues, which no longer interests me, but I don’t let on and remain polite.

I must pull myself together not to stare at you because I like what you’ve put on for me. You’re wearing a navy blue knee-length dress. It has a lower neckline than the dresses you usually wear for dinner with your husband. You’ve tamed your hair with an updo, and your light makeup finishes everything off perfectly. You are perfect, Beauty.

“June! You shouldn’t talk about money,” you scold your daughter and look apologetically at me.

You’re uncomfortable, but you master everything with an ease and class that blows me away. So elegant and stunning.

I’m about to say something, but the front door opens, and your husband enters the house. I can immediately see you tense up. You don’t want me to be here and for us to bump into each other, but don’t worry, Beauty. I can behave myself. Even if he doesn’t deserve you one bit, and I want to kill him for the privilege of calling you his wife. But for you, I’ll pull myself together and play along.

“I’m home. I got held up and had to…” he speaks with an annoyed tone as he joins us in the kitchen, glancing at his cell phone. However, when he realizes it’s not just his wife and daughter waiting for him, he pauses, glancing between us with a confused expression before his gaze settles disapprovingly on you. “Have I missed something?” he asks, his eyes shifting back to me.

I grab a tea towel and wipe my hands on it before walking around the counter to hold out my hand to your husband.

“Hello, Mr. Shepherd. Your lovely daughter and wife have been kind enough to invite me to join you for dinner. I hope you don’t mind?” I greet him and smile at him warmly.

The fact that I’m almost a foot taller than him makes him scowl as he reluctantly shakes my hand. I, on the other hand, grin broadly.

“What a surprise. But since you’re here, Ezra, it would be rude to uninvite you.” Even though he doesn’t say it directly, he makes it clear that he doesn’t want me here.

But if it’s up to me, I could do without him just as easily as he could do without me. So I leave it uncommented on and keep my friendly face while I get back to my task of layering the lasagna.

“Don’t be so rude, Dad. It’s nice to get to know the neighbors better,” June defends me, grinning broadly at me.

“I didn’t know you cared about our neighbors so much. Then surely we can invite Peter Jackson and his family over again? He asks about you often, and since the neighborhood seems so important to you…” he counters dryly and gives her a warning look.

June grimaces in disgust and shakes her head.

“You can’t compare the two, Dad. Peter is…”

“A nice and decent young man. That’s right. Who would love to date you. But unfortunately, you keep turning him down.”

I hold back my comment and turn to you instead, allowing father and daughter to have their discussion.

“The lasagna is almost ready. All that’s missing is the cheese, then it can go into the oven.”

You turn your angry gaze away from your husband and look at me. You also think his behavior is wrong, but you have too much class to let this argument, which he is trying to provoke, escalate in front of me—a guest. And that’s exactly why you’re perfect for me. You know how to deal with a raging man. You would always ground me, and I would never feel the need to freak out around you because, with your class and style, you wouldn’t even allow it.

“June, how about you go into the dining room with your dad? You could set the table, and your father could relax with a glass of wine and try to get his manners back.” You reprimand them both with a friendly smile, your tone carrying a subtle hint of admonishment that is almost imperceptible.

They both fall silent. Surprised, June bites her lower lip and gives you and me an apologetic look. On the other hand, Thomas looks at me like I’m the enemy. Normally, I’d back down and retreat, but this guy is practically begging me to punch him. I fight the urge and refuse to let his little joke get under my skin.

“One glass won’t be enough today. But maybe Ezra could keep me company and tell me how we came to have the honor of calling him our guest today, even though I was very clear, wasn’t I, Cora?” If he thinks I’m doing what he asks… he should know better. And he can’t keep himself from disrespecting you in front of a guest. What a jerk !

“Of course. As soon as I’ve given your wife a hand with the final preparations, I’ll happily answer your questions,” I replied amiably.

He narrows his eyes disapprovingly but gives in for the moment and goes to the next room armed with a bottle of wine and a glass while June follows him to set the table.

“That was… interesting,” I comment, turning to you with a grin as the two leave the kitchen and the swinging door closes.

You shake your head sternly as I approach you. But I don’t let that stop me. I stand close behind you to look over your shoulder as you neatly spread the cheese.

“You shouldn’t even be here, Ezra. This… screams trouble,” you whisper as you feel my hot breath on the back of your neck.

“Trouble? Why? I will behave. Apart from the fact that I fucked you here, and that’s why I’m still hard,” I murmur, pressing my erection against your tempting ass and nibbling the back of your neck, making you gasp softly.

You quickly look toward the door to see if anyone has seen us and step to the side so that I no longer touch you and you no longer feel my closeness. You shake your head sternly again and give me a warning look as you grab the dish and shove it into the oven.

“Don’t do that, Ezra. Please… you can’t,” you hiss, trying to sound angry but sounding more like you’re pleading, as if you’re not yet sure whether you want me to tease you a little and play with you.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, pushing you back against the cabinet next to the oven.

We’re now standing behind the door so we wouldn’t be seen immediately if someone entered the kitchen. I grab your hands and pin them to the cupboard above your head as I step so close to you that our bodies are almost touching everywhere. Just as I push my knee brashly between your thighs, putting pressure on your middle, you look at me with wide eyes, panting. Your cheeks are glowing, and your breath is coming in gasps.

“What’s wrong? You want me to fuck you here and now while your husband and daughter are in the next room and have no idea how wet you are because of me and how much you want me now? Is that what you want?” I murmur against your lips with a rakish grin before kissing you demandingly and slowly moving my knee back and forth so that you can rub against it.

A shiver runs through your body, and you stifle a moan. You forbid yourself from entering the kiss, even though we both know I’m right. You want me to pick up where I left off earlier.

“Show me how wet you are for me, Beauty,” I growl against your full lips, letting my hand wander under your dress.

“Ezra… don’t,” you gasp, biting your lower lip the next moment to stifle a moan as I run my hand gingerly over your wet panties.

“Mmm,” I mumble excitedly, nibbling on your lip as I trace your core and savor your wetness, which I can feel on my finger as you leak for me.

“Ezra… please,” you beg, looking at me with beautiful green eyes. How could I ever deny you?

Smiling, I pull my hand out from under your dress and bring it between our faces. Your wetness is visible on my fingers, which elicits an excited sound from me before I push it between my lips so that I can taste you.

“Do you know how much I’d love to get down on my knees right now and push my tongue deep inside you to taste so much more of your wetness?” I whisper in a dark voice, barely able to control myself.

I know it will be impossible to get rid of my hard-on until I’ve come deep inside you; I steal just one more fleeting kiss from you before I let go of you and go to the sink to wash my hands. You need to collect yourself before setting the oven’s timer, taking the salad and other ingredients out of the fridge, and laying everything out on the kitchen island.

Without commenting, set up the work surface with two boards and knives and a large glass bowl for the salad. After you have washed all the vegetables and lettuce, you stand close to me. Smiling, we silently stand next to each other and chop the vegetables. I’m pretty sure we’re thinking the same thing, and that’s why the silence isn’t awkward but familiar.

“Cora?” your husband’s voice sounds from the dining room, and I can feel you tense up again immediately, even though try to hide it. Can’t you see it, Beauty? He’s not the one for you.

“I’ll keep your husband company so he doesn’t think the wrong thing about me,” I whisper close to your ear. I can’t stop myself from planting another delicate kiss on that spot, sending another shiver of excitement through you before I pull away and leave the kitchen with two glasses of wine and a soda for June.

“Your wife is still busy with the salad, Mr. Shepherd. But perhaps my company will suffice for the moment,” I reply with my engaging smile, although I realize it does not affect him. But it affects his daughter, who smiles rapturously at me.

I sit opposite her in the seat next to you that June has set for you. I put the glasses in your place and mine and hand June the soda can. She timidly takes the drink from me and looks longingly at the wine. I know she’s not old enough to drink, and I can see how awkward it must be for her, being the only one in the group who isn’t of legal drinking age.

“Of course. You’re just in time. June said you stopped at an interesting question earlier when I interrupted you with my arrival,” he subtly refers to my job.

My gaze glides briefly to her. She ducks her head apologetically. But I honestly don’t care what he thinks of me or what he wants to know about me. So I shrug my shoulders before pouring myself a glass of red wine.

“You’re welcome to ask me anything you want to know about me. I have nothing to hide,” I reply with a grin and toast him as I take a sip.

“I doubt that. Everyone has something to hide,” he replies cynically.

“Please don’t extrapolate from yourself to others. But go ahead, see for yourself,” I counter with exaggerated friendliness, giving him the middle finger without being overtly rude.

His expression freezes briefly, and I’m sure he would have thrown me out if June hadn’t been sitting at the table. Instead, he offers a cool smile and raises his glass to clink with mine.

“So tell me, how does a guy as young as you end up with his own house and a boxing club?”

“You have a boxing club?” June joins in with excitement in her voice and looks at me with sparkling eyes.

I nod with a grin.

“Yes. My club is on the other side of town. It belonged to my father, and I used his rather generous inheritance to spruce it up a bit and buy the house.”

“Well, well. Of course, that makes life easier when you can spend your father’s money,” he teases, picking at a wound he’d better not poke at.

Nevertheless, I don’t let on and nod in agreement as the corners of my mouth drop.

“If it had been up to me, I would have given back every penny if it meant he could have lived. But fate had other plans, and he became terminally ill beyond any hope of recovery. I wish he could have spent his hard-earned money and truly enjoyed it,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders.

“Oh, Ezra, I’m so sorry about that. Our sincere condolences. Right, Dad?” June hisses angrily at him before she turns her gentle gaze back to me and, leaning over the table, grabs my hand and gives it an encouraging squeeze. She gives me a tentative smile.

It becomes clear here how similar your daughter is to you. She has your kindness and big heart. She is compassionate and kind.

“Thank you. He hasn’t been gone very long. But I’m learning to deal with it… Can I answer any other questions for you, Mr. Shepherd?” I address him, returning his gaze.

Grinding his jaw, he shakes his head. For this brief moment, I won. Let’s see how long it lasts…

The kitchen door swings open behind me, and you put the salad bowl on the table in the middle.

"The lasagna still needs some time, but we can start with the salad," you say, breaking the silence as you sit down next to me, your gaze intentionally averted. You hand out the small bowls for the salad.

As I take them from you, our fingers touch briefly, and everything tingles again just because you are so incredibly close to me. I can literally taste you on my tongue. Here’s to a tasty meal, Beauty…