Fuck me. Those thoughts alone prove I'm looking at her tits and ass.
"Do you like a little garlic or a lot?"
"A lot."
"Me too." Claudia brings a spoonful of sauce to her mouth and blows on it. "The secret to a good meat sauce, once you get it seasoned well, is to let it simmer for at least an hour. This needs more time to cook but try it and see if it has enough garlic for you."
I open and she spoons the sample into my mouth. Acidic. Tangy. Garlicky. All the right flavors dance the tango with my taste buds. "Delicious."
She uses her thumb to wipe the corner of my mouth and then licks the sauce from her finger. "It'll taste even better in an hour."
Holy. Hell. That was hot.
I could pull Claudia close. Pick her up and set her on the table. Push her legs apart and have my hand inside her shorts in only a matter of seconds. Make her come so hard, she screams my name. She'd let me. I know she would.
I bet she's never had an orgasm. At least not a real one. And not one she didn't give herself. I'm talking about the kind of pleasure that would make her tremble from the inside out and forget her own name.
"What do you want to do while we wait on the sauce to finish?"
Get naked and do bad things. "Whatever you want suits me."
She sits in the chair beside me and leans forward, her elbow on the table with her chin resting against her palm. "I've not been in your life for a while. Tell me about all the things I've missed."
There's pain in her voice. Sadness in her eyes. Does she wonder if there's been a woman in my heart while we've been apart? Cause there's only been one. Her.
The last two months have been confusing. And lonely. The loneliest I've ever experienced.
The only time I've not been consumed by thoughts and fantasies of Claudia is when I'm buried chest deep in work. Coming home to this apartment every night is brutal. It leaves my mind wide open to fantasize about everything I can never do with her.
"Not much to tell. I crunch numbers all day, come home to this empty apartment, eat dinner alone, and go to bed." I wonder if she can tell that I'm making a point to let her know there isn't a woman in my life. "It's the middle of tax season and I'm pulling long hours. I won't have a normal schedule until after April sixteenth."
"How late are you working every night?"
"I'm at the office until at least eight on weekdays and back up there the next morning no later than seven. I don't have much of a life outside of work."
"You didn't work late Friday."
"I left the office early because of the wedding rehearsal." I had to go in at four in the morning to make up for the hours I was missing. That was a ton of fun.
She sighs. "I can't ask you to tutor me after working so many hours. It's too much for you to take on."
"You aren't asking. I'm offering. I just need you to come over a little later. Eight thirty, maybe nine if it's not too late."
"That's fine. And if you'd like, I could come earlier and cook dinner for you."
I eat out of a paper bag almost every night. It gets old. "I'd love that if Staci and Shane won't have a problem with you being out that late on a school night?"
"Mom and Dad won't mind since it'll be for schoolwork. They trust you to help me bring up my grade. They understand you're busy with work so they won't mind me being here late if that's what it takes."
I've spent a lot of time considering what Owen and River would do if I touched Claud but gauging how Staci and Shane might handle the situation is a little more difficult. They've told me many times they think of me like another son, but I in no way believe they would approve of the thoughts I'm having about their daughter.
"Not much has happened with me. What about you?"
Claudia shrugs. "Nothing really. Just school."
I want to know what's been going on in her life as well. But what I really want to know is if she's been going out on dates. "Prom is coming up soon."
"It's two weeks away."
"Who's the lucky boy who gets to take you?" I put on my poker face so she doesn't see me react, one way or the other.
"I don't have a date."
Good girl. That's the answer I was hoping to hear. "I'm certain it's not because you haven't been begged."
"I don't know anything about being begged but I've been asked by a few guys."
And I guarantee not a one of them would treat her as well as I would if given the opportunity. "How many asked?"
"Seven."
I'm surprised the number isn't higher. "That's more than a few."