Jesse
I have the urge to rip it off and bend her over the table, but I don’t, even though her eyes drop in disappointment like she expected it. “Sit, Angel,” I demand, and she does, sinking into her chair as I serve her, then myself.
Once I’m seated, I place my napkin on my lap and watch, eyes narrowed, as she picks at her food.
“Eat, or I’ll put you over my knee,” I threaten.
She grins. “Is that a promise?” she purrs, but takes a big, purposeful bite, making me smile as I dig in myself, but the air is strained.
Both of us are unsure what to say or do. She’s leaving, I know that, but I wish she would stay.
She makes this empty house feel like a home.
When she’s finished eating, she sips her coffee and our legs tangle under the table, the dark of it allowing us to reach for each othe
