Chloe

Last week, Dominic requested my presence twice, once for bowling, where he bowled better games than I did. Although, it was hysterical to see him slip because of his overstep beyond the line on the lane. I would have been floored if he met the floor as I so commonly do. The memory of it brings a smile to my face.

He attempted to teach me how to properly bowl. However, I was better prepared this time and evaded his grasp at every turn, learning by observing his actions alone.

The second time he requested my presence, we went for a hike, of all things. He is such an enigma. He never ceases to amaze me. We traveled through a closed trail of overgrown bushes, uneven ground, and steep rocks that opened up to a beautiful view of a lake below, followed by an endless path of lush trees overlooking a single house.

His foresight allowed us snacks and drinks for our rest stop, where he opened up to me about his life. His father, his mother, his mother’s best friend, who was always over their home and cooking delicious Spanish food.

His childhood seemed so normal until he mentioned his father trained him as a killing machine from a young age. His first killing was at the young age of 13. How horrible is it to have taken a life at the age of 13 and not have known another way of life?

Shaking my head, I prepare for tonight when my phone pings. Checking the screen, it’s Dominic.

“Change of plans. I’ll have Antonio pick you up. Wear something comfortable, not too comfortable ;-).”

I swallow hard, staring at the screen, feeling my stomach twist in knots. I finally reply, “Okay.”

Am I okay with this sudden change in plans?

Arrive at the warehouse, I enter the familiar doorway. Strolling behind Antonio, assuming we are heading to his office, feeling like a student being summoned to the principal’s office in high school for being a “bad girl.”

Am I in trouble? Did I misbehave or do something unbecoming? Antonio leads us down an alternate corridor to a spacious living area, where I peer at Dominic standing at what looks like a bar, pouring himself a drink.

Dominic twists to face us, waving Antonio off. I step towards Dominic, whose eyes seem wild and frenzied. Taking a huge gulp of his drink, I step closer, unsure what to expect.

“Ms. Knox, thank you for joining me tonight, given the change in plans. I had important business to handle before the night was out.”

I move my head up and down at a slow pace. The silence is deafening in such a vast space. Curiosity piques, leading me to inquire.

“What is this place exactly? It’s a warehouse clearly from the outside, but there are bushes, plants, and trees to match the surrounding area. I have seen the other side; it has offices which made sense, but this.” I wave to the area before me. “This appears to be more like a home. A living room, a bar, what looks like a dining room and kitchen over there.” My arm extends behind him.

He huffs out a breath, swigging a large gulp of what I would assume is whiskey.

“It is a warehouse– however, given my “business,” I have transformed some of it into living quarters when business, such as tonight, consumes my life, leaving me no choice but to remain here.”

“So they’re bedrooms here? Like a regular apartment?

Moving his head in a swift downward motion, he recovers. “Yes, just more spacious and luxurious. If ever needed to remain here for an extended period of time, we have all that is required to accommodate our stay.”

I peer around, observing as much as possible, taking in the ambiance.

“I’m starved. Keep me company in the kitchen. Are you hungry?” He inquires while strolling towards the cooking area.

“Yes, I am actually.”

“What are you in the mood for?”

Well, isn’t that a loaded question?Natalia’s eyebrows raise up and down.

Stop that, Natalia. We are here to fulfill a business deal, that’s it.

All business and no play makes a frustrated kitty. We need to purr.

“UGH!”

“Is everything okay?” Dominic peers at me with confusion in his eyes.

Shit! I did that out loud. “Yes, everything is fine. As weird as this sounds, I am in the mood for–

SEX.

“Breakfast.”

Ugh! No fun!Natalia stomps her way to bed.

“Breakfast, really?”

“Yes. Issue?”

“Not at all. I could go for a good frittata.”

" I can help. I’ll be your sous chef.”

“Perfect, but first.” He grasps an apron, placing the strap over my head, traipsing behind me, devilishly close, tying the strings with a wolfish grin cemented on his face.

“Now you’re ready to get dirty.” His eyebrow did a quick lift.

Damn, this man and all his salacious behavior will drive me to the loony bin.

Dominic extracts the ingredients, including eggs, heavy cream, salt, cheese, a green pepper, an onion, and olive oil.

Placing a knife on the cutting board before me, he instructs my actions. “Cut these into bite-size pieces.” Handing me the vegetables, I studiously begin my duty.

Observing my chopping skills, he grasps his chin with his thumb and forefinger. Strolling behind me. “Here. Like this.”

He grasps my hands, guiding me to dice the vegetables when I feel the tautness of his chest against my back. The chopping ceases slowly until it comes to a complete halt, and the silence consumes us, screaming what we are both feeling at this very moment.

His face drops to the side of my neck, and he inhales my scent. Not moving an inch, my breathing hitches, awaiting his next move, silently longing for his following action to be a kiss. His hands release mine, moving up my arms, leaving a blazing trail in its wake and nothing– again.

FUCK! He’s fucking with me! ASSHOLE!

And it’s working Chloe... you crave him. You long to feel him between your legs and punish you for all your lecherous thoughts.Natalia whispers in my head.

I can’t, and I won’t. My breathing finally commences as I watch him crack the eggs for our frittata. We continue cooking as if nothing ever happened, and I prefer it that way.

After about 15 minutes, he grasps a loaf of thick bread, slicing it down the middle, slathering it with butter, and place it in a bread press.

“A bread press?” I’m shocked he has a bread press. I recall going to the bakery with my mother and getting pan caliente con mantequilla (hot bread with butter).

“Yes. You recall my mother had a Spanish best friend, and we always had breakfast with hot bread with butter melted by the bread press and a cup of café con leche along with our Italian omelet, a beautiful blend of both worlds. Cultural diffusion at its best.”

Wow, I would not have imagined that. He’s in tune with quite a bit of Spanish culture.

“What is your favorite Spanish food from your childhood?”

He responds without hesitation. “Arepa de queso.”

“Really?” My eyebrows raise to my hairline in shock that this is his favorite Spanish food.

“Yes, but unfortunately, I have yet to perfect the recipe.”

“Who knows, maybe we can cook it together one day.” I give an open invitation for a cooking lesson.

Placing all of our completed food on the plates, we grab drinks, and I follow behind him to the living room, where we nestle into the sofa, enjoying a night of laughter, watching comedy movies and delicious food.

But most of all, enjoying each other’s company.

~~~

Dominic and Chloe are building a friendship. Will it develop into more?

Thoughts? Theories?

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