“Can you believe they had Penelope Aldin as their party planner?” Alyssa says with awe.
“A little over-the-top for a baby,” we say at the same time. Our eyes connect as we chuckle. I can’t pull away. Thankfully, she can.
“I better get going. I’ll help you clean up before I leave.”
I don’t need help, yet I let her collect the plates while I gather the remaining dishes and bring them into the kitchen. I want a few more minutes with her. Rinsing the dishes, I stack them in the dishwasher. All too soon, the job is done and there’s no reason for Alyssa to stay any longer.
Like she knows her time is up, she says, “Well…I should go.” She shuffles toward the door, looking reluctant to leave. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Would you like a coffee?” Why can’t I let her go?
“Sure, I’d love a cup.” Is she holding onto as many minutes as she can too? Why would she? The way I’ve treated her, she shouldn’t give me the time of day.
I put the pot on to brew and pull two cups from the cabinet. Turning my back toward her, I busy myself with the task. The more I look at her, smell her sweet perfume, hear her laughter, the more I want her.
When the coffee is ready, I pour it into the cups and hand one to Alyssa. “Would you like cream or sugar?” I ask.
“No, thanks. The hotter the better.”
“The way I like mine too. Let’s sit in the living room. It’s more comfortable.” We walk into the room and take our seats. Alyssa’s elbow accidentally knocks my arm and hot coffee splashes over my chest. “Shit!” I hiss.
“Oh God! I’m sorry.” She jumps from the couch, grabs my cup from my hand, and puts both cups on the coffee table. “Did it burn you? Of course it burned you. Let me see. Take off your shirt.” Not waiting for a response, she tugs my t-shirt over my head. Looking at my chest, she covers her mouth with her hand and gasps, “I’m so, so sorry. Your skin is red. Where’s your bathroom? We need to run cold water on it now!” Grabbing my hand, she tugs me to my feet. “Quickly, before it gets worse.”
I lead her to the bathroom, not letting go of her hand. It feels small and fragile, and I like how it fits in mine, almost making me forget the burning sensation across my chest.
She turns the cold water on in the shower. “Get in,” she demands.
When I step inside, she stops me with a hand on my shoulder. Her gaze trails over me. “Do you want to…arhh…take your jeans and shoes off first?”
I kick off my shoes but leave on the jeans. I can’t promise, even with the pain, I can control my cock with her standing so close. Stepping into the shower, I give a sharp hiss as the cold water touches my skin.
“Oh God.” She covers her face with her hands, peeking through separated fingers. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
Fucking hurts like a bitch. “I can hardly feel it.”
She drops her arms by her sides and gives me a dubious look. “I doubt that.”
“Okay, it stings a little.”
She raises an eyebrow like she still doesn’t believe me.
“How long do I have to stand here?” The water is cold, and I’m shivering.
“I think twenty minutes.”
“Then what?”
She shrugs. “My knowledge doesn’t go past running cold water over a burn. Maybe see a doctor?”
“It’s not that bad. My shirt took the brunt of it.” I turn my body slightly and wince as the spray hits me directly on the burn.
Noticing my discomfort, she says, “The pressure is too strong.”
The shower is big enough for her to reach inside while avoiding the water spray, and she twists the faucet, but instead of softening the pressure, it hits me in the chest at full force.
“Oh crap.” Alyssa steps further into the shower, either not caring or not thinking she’d get drenched.
In her panic to fix the water pressure, she fumbles with the faucets. The water turns off then on. Cold then hot. With her back toward me, I reach over her shoulder and lay my hand on top of hers, stopping her from boiling us alive. I turn the hot water off and put the cold back on. Alyssa is standing so close to me, her back pressed against my chest. I no longer feel the sting of the burn. Now I’m burning up in a different way.