Page 56 of Obsessive Love
FABLE
“The arena is closedfor the next week,” Pyrite said, walking into the room. I closed the dresser and turned to face him. “Every meeting has been moved to the house. All the players know.”
“Why?” I asked, slightly confused. Going to the arena was the only time Pyrite didn’t stay hot on my heels. Even when we went to his parents' house last night, he hardly ever allowed me out of his sight, as if he feared I would disappear. At the arena, he came and went from his office, and I sat in there and worked.
“KO asked to push your meeting back by an hour, which I told her was fine,” he said, instead of answering my question. “I’ll be in the gym working out if you need me.”
“Pyrite, why are you up?” I asked before he could walk out the door. It was four in the morning, and I was used to having this time for myself.
“You said this is the time you get up,” he said, and I nodded. “Then I’m up, too.” He left the room just as quickly as he entered, and I stood there, confused.
There was no reason to get dressed if I worked in the kitchen all day. Instead of the suit I planned to wear, I grabbed a pair of yoga shorts and a top from the drawer I’d put them in and wentto the bathroom. I needed to wash my hair, but going through the whole wash day process didn’t appeal to me yet, so I brushed it into a ponytail that sat high on my head and fluffed out my curls. After brushing my teeth, I jumped in the shower and took care of my hygiene. Once I was done, I applied body cream, deodorant, and dressed.
The kitchen was quiet. Watermelon was asleep in the cage, and Starburst was flying around the house. Most people didn’t let their birds fly as freely as I did because they were afraid of them shitting everywhere in the house, but Watermelon and Starburst only ever went to the bathroom in their cages, so I didn’t mind. Now, if that changed, then their time out would be limited.
An iPad sat on the counter with a note on it. I picked it up and read the note. “You said you always listen to music when you bake, so here you go.” I stuffed the note in my pocket and swiped the screen. Pandora was loaded, and I signed in to my account. The sounds of Kevin Gates' “Not the Only One” blasted through the speakers in the kitchen, and I set the iPad on the counter.
Today’s menu included sausage, French toast rolls, and eggs. I grabbed everything from the fridge and then washed my hands. As the music played, I cooked breakfast. Every so often, I’d glance up to the doorway expecting Pyrite to show up, and every time the space was empty, I found myself a little disappointed. Once everything was finished, I rewashed my hands and paused the music.
“Pyrite Stone, I know you can hear me,” I said. Usually, I yelled, but today, I wanted to see how good the microphones hidden around the house were.
“I can,” he chuckled. “What’s up?”
“You ready to eat?” I looked around, trying to find the speaker. Even though I’d been playing music all morning, I wasn’t sure where the sound came from.
“I’ll be down; give me a minute,” he said.
I turned the music back on, grabbed the shaker I’d filled with my special ingredient, and sprinkled it on his food. After I gave him a reasonable amount, I poured syrup on his food and set it on the table for him.
“What’s this?” Pyrite asked when he came into the kitchen. I damn near choked on my food when I noticed he was shirtless. His skin was still glistening from his sweating, and my pussy started throbbing. There was no way this man looked this damn good after working out. “It smells good as fuck.”
“Sausage French toast rolls with eggs,” I answered after I swallowed my food.
Pyrite walked to the sink to wash his hands, then came to the table, sat down — legs open — and I could see his dick resting against his thigh. I picked up my water, took a few sips to cool myself down, and set it back on the table. He bent his head to say a quick prayer, picked up his fork, and started eating.
“Ay, this shit is good as fuck,” he said in between bites. He scooped up another forkful and nodded.
“It's not too sweet?” I asked, and he shook his head. “Good, I was worried it might be too sweet.”
“Nah.” He licked his lips, and I had to squeeze my legs together. Flashes of his mouth on me, sucking and licking at my pussy ran through my mind. “I’ve liked everything you've made so far.”
“Thank you,” I said, nodding and returning to eating.
“Why aren’t you eating ?” he asked, and I looked up from my plate to see him staring at me. I wasn’t a fan of French toast, so I had regular toast with sausage instead.
“I don’t do sweet food,” I answered with a small laugh. Pyrite's face twisted like he was confused, and I shrugged. “I know it's weird because of my profession, but I don’t. I’ll eat it occasionally, but for the most part, I never touch anything.”
“Then how do you know if it's good?” he asked as he ate.
“I will try the first batch of whatever I’m making, but after that, I usually have other people sample it,” I said with a shrug.
“You ever had this?” he asked, pointing to his plate, and I shook my head. “No?”
“Nope,” I answered. “I’ve seen it be made but never had it.”
“Nah, that’s not going to work.” He grabbed the leg of my chair and pulled me to him. “Try it.” He scooped up a small amount on his fork, dipped it in the syrup, and brought it to my lips. “Open.”
The heat in his eyes made me do what he instructed. I opened my mouth, and Pyrite put the food in it. I closed my lips around the fork, and he slowly pulled it from my mouth. “Good, ain’t it?”
