Wicked Need (The Wicked Horse Series Book 3)(21)

Rand had texted me a few hours ago letting me know he’d be home from work by seven. We had our first minor disagreement after I responded back to him that’d I’d cook dinner.

His response was almost immediate. I’ll pick up pizza.

I wasn’t sure whether to be offended that he was perhaps distrustful of my cooking or he was being an overly gracious host, but I sent him back a firm response. I insist. I want to do something nice for you.

No need, he wrote back quite succinctly.

I wasn’t so succinct. I’m cooking dinner and not arguing about it. I’ll have it on the table and ready to go at 7PM. If you can’t let me do something to show my gratefulness for your generosity, then I’m going to have to make alternative plans to stay somewhere else.

His response was still just as short, just as quick, but it made me smile. Look forward to your cooking.

It’s my hope he appreciates my efforts, although knowing Rand, that’s sort of a given. The more I come to know him, the more I admire the type of man—no, human—that he is. In all my dealings with him before at The Silo, I never looked past the exterior. He’s a glorious package and was one of my select favorites there. But let’s be honest… he was f*cking a shell of a woman then. I closed off everything on the inside and would only let my body feel. With all the things that make me uniquely human shut down, there was nothing available by which I could see inside someone else. Not that I wanted to since it never occurred to me I could have a life outside of Samuel. That I could have someone truly care for me. I never even hoped for such a thing because you can’t hope for something that you don’t even understand.

That you don’t even know exists in the world.

So without that knowledge, there was never any need for me to look past the exterior of any man who had me. I was nothing but a vessel to them, and they were nothing but a few moments of physical pleasure that hopefully outweighed the shame of what was happening to me.

After our text exchange, I drove to the grocery store and put a dent in my meager funds, coughing up $9.63 for some ground bison, an onion, and some milk. The milk was for the box of macaroni and cheese I found in a cupboard. He had butter, ketchup, eggs, and spices, so I had everything else I needed for meatloaf and macaroni and cheese. Very simple and basic. I considered throwing in a green vegetable too, but I actually got sidetracked in the grocery store when I started thinking about Rand and how perfectly he was able to play my body last night. Which is weird. I never think about sex in general, but I seem to be obsessed with Rand and how he makes me feel in bed. Out of bed too, so to speak, as he got me to easily open up to him. Telling him my secrets and shames last night was freeing. The fact that he listened without judgment speaks volumes.

So yeah… I got sidetracked thinking about Rand and walked out of the grocery store without a veggie. Rand doesn’t have any vegetables among his canned goods, which leads me to believe he probably doesn’t like them anyway.

I think I’m a decent cook, and it’s something I enjoy doing. Granted, I haven’t had a lot of opportunity to experiment, but I can hold my own with the basics. Growing up, I had to fend for myself so I could get pretty damn creative. Once I left home, I took whatever food I could get, and it was often just a stolen candy bar or something. With Samuel, we had a chef when we were in Vegas. In Jackson, I did get to cook for us, although he’d never hand down a compliment to me even if he thought it was the best food ever. Not going to say I didn’t think about poisoning him a time or two, especially when he’d farm me out to others, but I just don’t have that in me, I guess. Samuel’s food remained healthy and poison free, even though I hated him enough that I hoped his advanced age would get him sooner rather than later.

Or that he’d choke on a chicken bone, it being fortuitous that I did not know how to do the Heimlich maneuver.

The macaroni is done boiling, so I go about fixing the cheap box of Kraft, adding in extra butter because that makes everything taste better. By the time the meatloaf is done and I’m pulling it out of the oven, I hear the door to the apartment open. My entire body goes on hyper-alert, and a rush of giddy excitement runs through me.

Rand’s here.

The sensation is so startling that it takes a moment to realize the heat from the glass dish of meatloaf is starting to sting through the towel I’d grabbed it out with. I hurriedly set it on the stovetop.

“Smells amazing,” Rand says from behind me. I turn to him, feeling my cheeks get warm from the praise and the anticipation of seeing him.

God… I’ve never felt this before. It’s how I imagine children feel on Christmas morning when they wake up and are beside themselves with excitement to know what Santa left them. I’ve never had that experience, but I had friends at school who did, so I could easily envision it.

I’ve most definitely never felt it for another man because I never really had a serious relationship before. I’ve made attempts, but I always picked poorly. When you’re sometimes homeless and occasionally stripping to pay rent, the choices for “good guys” are relatively lacking. I guess that’s why Samuel seemed like such a godsend at first when he showed interest in me.

Rand’s eyes flick from the meatloaf to me. His gaze lingers in a long, slow slide up and down my body. The giddiness ramps up as I feel a rush of dampness between my legs. Normally, when I feel the signs of lust coming on, my body and persona tend to take on a life of its own. I know how to work my assets and incite the same lust in someone else with either a particular look or a sway of my hips.