This one is for the Love the One(s) You're With Competition, as always, your votes and comments would be much appreciated. Hope you enjoy this, and Stay Safe!
*
The moment the lockdown was announced, it seemed like everyone was fleeing like rats from a sinking ship.
Well, all except for my mysterious across-the-hallway neighbor Jace and I, who were the only ones left in our building.
After my office had closed down, deciding I'd better stock up, I'd stopped at a supermarket on my way home. And I was walking up the stairs to the top floor of our six unit apartment building struggling with two heavy bags of groceries, when I felt him come up behind me and take them off my hands. "I got it, Brooke. I'll take them up for you."
Once we were at my door, I thanked him and remarked, "So, I guess we're the only two left in here."
He nodded. "Yeah, I think everyone's gone to live with family or found somewhere to stay out of the city, till this thing blows over."
When I unlocked the door, I was a little surprised when he followed me all the way into the kitchen still carting my groceries. I'd always been curious about him. Jace had a bit of bad boy thing going on, covered in tats, with slightly longish dark hair, nicely trimmed GQ beard, and piercing steel blue eyes that always made me wonder what his deal was. He never talked much, only nodded with a quick hello and goodbye whenever we'd crossed paths, except for last summer when we'd spent some time chatting at the community barbecue out in back of the building, so it was kind of cool to finally have him in my apartment.
When he put my bags up on the counter and noticed a couple of frozen dinners sitting on top, his eyes flared and he suddenly looked at me like I was out of my mind. "Don't tell me this is the kind of stuff you use to fuel your body. It's not even food. That stuff'll kill you." Then he held up a box and showed me the teeny tiny writing on the side. I winced as I read through the mile long list of ingredients, mostly things I couldn't even pronounce. He did have a point, though, the list of chemicals and preservatives in a single helping of my favorite
Lite Orange Chicken with Rice
actually looked pretty scary, now that I'd taken the time to read it.
Not sure what to say, I shrugged, and feebly tried to explain, "Well, being on my own, it's not easy cooking for one. And when I run out of ideas, stuff like this is a quick fix, especially when I work late."
Rolling his eyes, he asked, "Do you like seafood?"
I nodded. "Yes, I do. Why?"
"Then I'll make us something for dinner tonight. Actually, why don't you come over while I cook? And you'll see it doesn't take long to eat healthy, and it's probably a lot cheaper than this frozen crap you've been eating, too."
"Okay." Wow. I couldn't believe this was the same guy, who'd barely spoken two words to me before; that was now carrying my stuff, taking an interest in what I ate, and even offering to cook for me. Strange, but still kind of interesting.
Once I'd put away what I'd bought, I grabbed a bottle of white wine from the fridge, along with a couple of Coronas and a lime, since I had no idea which he'd prefer, or if he even drank.
Seeing his door was ajar, I knocked and called out, "Hi, it's me, Brooke."
"Hey," he called back from the kitchen, "come on in."
Looking around as I walked through, his place was like a museum, just chock full of one fascinating thing after another. It felt like my eyes were darting everywhere at once trying to take it all in. The walls were covered in all different kinds of gorgeous art, and some of the walls had book shelves, stacked to the ceiling with interesting looking titles. And his taste in furniture was just as eclectic with pieces that looked Indian and some that appeared to be Chinese, with a little dark carved wood that might have come from Africa. But I decided it suited him, imagining a guy like Jace would never be happy living in a boring, beige neatly organized space like mine.
I held up my offerings as I walked into his kitchen. "Not sure if you drink, but thought I'd bring these, hoping they'd work with dinner."
He flashed me a smile. "I'm not a saint, Brooke, I enjoy a drink. I'm just careful about what I eat." Seeing the way his face lit up when he smiled, I just stood and stared, shocked at how a simple smile could transform him. Normally kind of sullen, the way his eyes were now glinting with mischief, had my heart skipping a beat. I decided as I looked him over, working his magic in the kitchen, that I was right about one thing, he was probably the sexiest, most dangerous looking man I'd ever encountered. Which in my mind, only made him that much hotter, and made me even more curious to know all his secrets.
While he got out a big steel wok from the under the counter, and set it on the stove to heat, I reached for some wine goblets on one of his open kitchen shelves, took the opener he handed me and did the honors, and handed him a glass.
Then he asked, "I'm assuming you know how to make rice?" When I nodded that I did, he said, "Good," and pointed to a pot on the stove. "I've got some Jasmine rice cooking in there, and I'm just going to make sure these shrimp are clean then I'll get to the vegetables. And it should all be ready at the same time."
"So, what can I do to help?"
He lifted his gaze and slowly raked me over, from the top of my long, dark brown hair, down over my breasts all the way to the tips of my heels, and lordy, I could feel my nipples getting hard just from the heated look in his eyes. "I'll tell you when I need you," he said, his voice sounding all low and dark, and so incredibly sexy I swore I could almost feel it sliding over me.
Feeling slightly breathless, all I could do was nod, and try not to shiver, because I don't think I'd ever felt as aroused, especially from just a look. But I swore those teasing silver-blue eyes of his felt like they could see right through my clothes, which would explain why my panties were getting so damp, as I wondered if he could see right into those, too.
As he worked, he explained that he's careful about where his food comes from, and avoids anything with additives, dyes or chemicals, so that whatever he cooks tastes like it should, without extra stuff in it that it shouldn't have. But as he explained what to look for when I shopped, I realized I'd never given much thought before to what I ate. But it seemed that he was passionate about how he treated his body. And I've got to say, looking him over, he was doing a wonderful job.
