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“Shall I cook something?” she asks.
She’s wearing his robe, clutching it to her neck like she would hold a baby blanket. He swallows hard and hopes it doesn’t show. Did she notice his hands twitch at their sides? Could she tell how he ached in his trousers?
“No kitchen,” Joe replies, calmly, coolly, as ever. “Nothing to cook. I always eat out.”
Her sharp eyes quickly dart back to his and her grip on the robe gets a little tighter. He didn’t mean it in any sort of way, but knowing that she thought of it first nearly does him in. Ann bites her lower lip, and he wishes it was his teeth instead.
“Do you like that?” Ann asks.
It’s so innocent a question, truly. Or it would be, if her grip on her collar hadn’t loosened. A few more inches of her pale neck are revealed to him. He doesn’t think he’s ever desired another woman more than he’s desired her at this moment.
“I do,” he says honestly. “I like it far better than sitting at home alone.”
She gives a barely audible, “Oh.”
“And have you ever, em, gone out to eat, or are you more comfortable in a kitchen?” he asks delicately.
“I’m not allowed to do either. Food has to be brought to me, but I’ve always turned it away.”
Joe sits down on his bed. That certainly is a lot to take in. And it wasn’t as though he would make her do anything she didn’t want. Maybe it would be best to get her home as soon as possible…
Ann sits down next to him and places a delicate hand on his knee.
“I’m rather hungry tonight,” she murmurs.
Joe gives in to his urges and kisses her.