Lust(16)

I finally let the smile spread. "You will. I assure you that by time I'm  done with you, you will confidently say it along with many other words  that I'm sure would have your head spinning to think about right now." I  gripped her knee in my hand hard and said, "And as for my hand on your  leg, in due time, it will be on other places on your body. Some way more  intimate than this. This will also become something you will eventually  be comfortable with."

Our plates were brought out so I released the tight hold on her leg and  lifted my hands to the table. That was when she finally let out a breath  of air and somewhat relaxed in her seat, but refused to speak.

"Aren't you going to eat?" I asked as she shuffled the food around her plate with her fork.

"I'm a picky eater."

I didn't specialize in eating disorders, but I was sure that was  something one would use as an excuse not to eat in front of others.

"You ordered it. Why would you request something you don't like? I can  call the waitress over and have her bring you something else if you'd  like."

"No, that's okay. I don't need to bother anyone. I'll just eat around the peppers and onions, and tomatoes …  and zucchini."

I laughed and she looked at me, trying to hide the small smile on her  lips with her cloth napkin. "Ivy, that's practically everything on your  plate. Why would you order that if you don't like anything in it?"

"I didn't really read the menu. I just picked something."

"Why?" I couldn't imagine someone that claimed to be a picky eater not  reading what was in the meal. I knew that she could read by the  countless number of books her mind had devoured.

She shrugged and the dismissive motion told me she didn't want to answer  me. I placed my silverware down on my plate and looked at her, waiting  until her eyes met mine.

"No one has ever taken me out to dinner before," she answered meekly.

"I took you out the other night."

"That doesn't count. I didn't order anything and it wasn't like this.  This is how I would picture a date if I ever went on one, and I didn't  know what to do. I didn't know what to order and I was nervous. So I  picked something without looking. I'm sorry if I've wasted your money  but I tried to pick the most inexpensive thing."

The smile fell from my lips and without thought, my hand moved to hers,  curling around her hand that rested on top of the table. I wasn't sure  any longer if she avoided the food because of a disorder, or if she  really was telling me the truth. There was an innocence to her that  called to me, that made me want to do something. She was almost  child-like and I wasn't sure how to approach it.

"Ivy, don't apologize. We can have them bring you something else that you like."

"That's really not necessary. I'll be okay."

I began cutting away pieces of my steak as she continued to play with  the food in front of her. "Here, eat this," I offered as I moved food  from my plate onto hers. "I won't eat it all and what kind of man would I  be if I let my date leave dinner hungry?"

She shook her head again, about to protest, but I stopped her by  spearing a piece of meat with my fork and bringing it to her lips. Once  she realized I wasn't going to give up, she opened her mouth and took  the food I offered. I felt my pants grow tight as I watched her lips  close around my fork and take the piece of juicy meat. She hummed as she  chewed on the piece of steak and it took everything in me not to touch  her, when that was all I craved to do.         

     



 

The tension around our table grew tenfold and I needed to find a way out  of there desperately. We quickly finished my meal together and I paid  the bill in cash, not wanting to waste any more time with a credit card  transaction. I grabbed her hand in mine and hurried out of the  restaurant.

I wanted to talk in the car, planned on it actually, but she was too  quiet. The low music I turned on in the background was needed to keep me  from going insane due to the silence. She was stiff in her seat, barely  moving on the way back to her apartment.

She was surprised when I turned the car off after parking in front of  her building. Her head jerked to me as I climbed out of the car and went  to her side, opening her door to let her out.

"What are you doing?" she asked nervously.

I needed to know if she truly lived there or not, but didn't dare come  right out and ask her. So the next best thing was to make something up  that would be both believable and comfortable at the same time.

"What kind of date would I be if I didn't take you to your front door?"

"I thought you said this wasn't a date?" she argued.

"And you said this was how you'd picture a date if you went on one. So  I'm showing you what it would be like if it were a date. Don't argue  with me, Ivy. Let me take you to your door."

She accepted my hand and let me pull her from the car. I didn't let go  and I wasn't sure why. She no longer fidgeted endlessly while I held her  hand, either. I didn't need to hold hands with her as we walked up the  exterior staircase, but I did. I couldn't get enough of the softness her  hands provided. I didn't need to lean against the door jamb as she  unlocked the deadbolt, but I did. And I really didn't need to push  myself inside behind her, but I couldn't help myself and did that as  well.

"What are you doing?" she asked, clearly startled, staring at me in shock as I closed the door behind me.

We were only a foot apart, and it took everything in me not to push her  against the wall behind her and thrust my tongue into her mouth. The way  her question came out in soft breaths of air combined with the memories  of the way her leg felt beneath my hand were tormenting me.

"I …  I wanted to see your place." I had to shake my head to clear it and  get a hold of myself. I was never one to stutter on my words or act  nervous in close proximity to a woman. "I need to get a better idea of  who you are, Ivy, and there's no better way to do that than see where  you live."

I looked around me, taking in the bare walls and colorless room. A small  television set that looked as though it came from the early eighties  was sitting on a small table in the corner. One chair sat in the middle  of the room with a folding card table next to it. I wouldn't have been  surprised if the chair had come from a garbage pile with the way it was  decorated in patchwork, as if someone had haphazardly tried covering  rips in the fabric. On the far wall, behind the torn chair, was a bed.  It was neatly made with a thin white blanket pulled up to the pillows.  It was small, maybe a full-size bed, but the room was tiny and I  couldn't imagine anything bigger fitting. A small table sat next to that  in place of a bedside table, and it held an old IBM computer. It  reminded me of the ones I used in middle school, and it wouldn't  surprise me if it used floppy discs. A tiny kitchen, that couldn't have  fit more than one person at a time, was right next to the front door,  and what looked like a bathroom was on the other side.

I couldn't imagine anyone living in something so compact unless they resided in prison.

"There's no personality to your apartment, Ivy. How do I even know you live here?"

"I'm sure you watched as I unlocked the door. That should be a good indication."

"How do I know you're not dog-sitting?"

"Do you see a dog? Or any other animal?" Her tone was sarcastic and I had to stifle a laugh.

"You could be watching someone's apartment while they're gone."

"Do you live here?" she asked with attitude. "Because aside from you, I  don't know anyone else. My friends are all online bloggers that I have  never met in person before, and I doubt anyone would ask a stranger to  watch their home for them." She stared at me and I didn't respond. "You  got me, Cade. An old woman lived here alone and I killed her for her  spacious living quarters. I was living in a big ole house but needed  more space for all of my belongings, so I took it from her." Her voice  was deadpanned as she spoke.

I was completely caught off guard by her sarcasm. I wasn't in any way  prepared for it and couldn't contain my smile any longer. "I'm sorry, I  didn't mean to offend you, it's just that there's no personality in  here. This could very well be the home of a lonely old lady by the looks  of it. But I believe you; I was simply trying to say no one could get  any idea of who you are by walking in here. Why is that?"         

     



 

"Maybe there's nothing about me for people to know."

"There is, though. Except you don't want to let anyone in to see it."

"Like what? What is there for people to see?"

"I don't know, why don't you tell me?" I leaned closer to her, causing her to quickly back away.

Ivy began to breathe heavily before turning her back to me. She walked  to the chair and used the backrest to steady herself. I could tell she  was battling something within her, and I wanted to help. I wanted to  fight with her, not against her. I walked to her slowly and gently  rested my hands on the sides of her small waist, causing her to jump in  fear.