One
I squinted at the brownie box, reading the instructions on the back. I told my dad that morning that I'd prefer making them from scratch and even gave him the ingredients, but he said it was so much easier just to buy the box.
Easier? Yes. Tastier? Absolutely not.
"You know Kleine, I don't think I've ever seen you take something so seriously."
I stiffened slightly at the voice, though I knew he'd come over. It was just something about the way his lightly accented voice sounded, the way his presence filled up a room. It was intoxicating.
I turned and faced my father's friend Kaspar, who stood just inside the doorway to the kitchen, his six feet eight inch frame taking up the majority of the space between rooms.
Guy was a giant, I swear.
His icy blue eyes twinkled in amusement as he looked down at me, and I couldn't help but notice his black hair was a little more mussed up than usual. The sides were kept trimmed, but the top he kept somewhat longer, the hair there always seeming to look like he just got out of bed.
He came over once a week to watch a movie with me, my dad, and my mom. Over the past couple of months, I had noticed a bit of a change in the way he looked and spoke to me. More...flirty. More forward.
I think the only saving grace was the fact he was closer to my age, rather than my dads. It didn't, however, fix the fact that he and my dad were friends.
I raised my eyebrows and shook the brownie box in the air between us. "Brownies are not to be taken lightly."
His smirk grew. "Of course not."
"You know Riese, I can feel the judgment from here." I frowned at him.
"Mm." He looked at the box in my hands as he neared. "No judgment from me. Do you need help?"
He always smelled of a musky cologne and mint. It tickled my senses like a sensual caress every single time he got close enough for me to smell him.
"I'll get the wet ingredients and you can mix?" I moved the bowl closer to him.
His eyes slid to me, a light hum the only noise of acknowledgment as I turned and grabbed the eggs and oil, and measured out the water needed for the mix. By the time I turned around, he already had the pre-made dry ingredients inside the bowl.
He slid the bowl back towards me and I measured out the oil before pouring it in and adding the water and eggs.
I felt his eyes on me the entire time. They burned into me in a way that made my body feel hot and made my breathing pick up.
I remembered the first time I met him. I walked into the house for our weekly movie night, complaining about the rain, when I quite literally ran into him. He didn't budge, but I fell straight on my ass. He had knelt, his light blue eyes wide, and asked if I was okay.
And instead of telling him I was fine, I yelled expletives at him for a good minute while a smirk crossed his face. I'd asked who the fuck he thought he was. I'd asked where my parents were. Why the fuck was a "giant fucking tank" in the house. And his smirk simply continued to grow.
Only when I stood and had to practically crane my neck back did I realize why he didn't budge when I ran into him. Extremely tall - an entire foot and a half taller than me - and all muscle.
"Oh, good." My dad had said, coming into the room with a lazy smile. "You two seem to be getting along swimmingly."
Swimmingly indeed.
I'd gotten used to him coming over every week. There were days he looked worn out and plopped down next to me and just slept while the movie ran, and when I asked my dad why he kept coming over if he didn't seem to want to sometimes, my dad said he basically forced him because he didn't have anyone else.
It had been three years since then, and we'd become more friendly. I found myself looking forward to Fridays so that I could see him and have him next to me while we watched whatever movie my parents had chosen for that night.
And then he started getting more touchy. More bold with the things he said and did.
I'm not sure if my dad noticed or not, but the fact that the two of them were friends before I met him didn't sit well with me on most days. But days like today, when it was just me and him alone, I didn't care whose friend he was or wasn't. I just wanted to climb the damn guy like a tree.
He mixed the wet and dry ingredients together, his eyes on his task as I scanned him. His legs were so long that his hips started at my belly button. He always wore pants, but even through those pants I could see his legs were well built. He had a nice waistline, broad shoulders, and his freaking forearms were the size of my calves.
He had a small smirk on his face when I finally met his eyes.
"That was probably the most blatant once-over I've ever received." He teased, and my face flushed.
"You're just too damn big." I said, grabbing the bowl from him.
"Or," he murmured, "you're too small."
I sprayed the baking dish and glared up at him. "I'm going to say it's the former. There's no reason for all that."
I motioned towards his body, and he burst out laughing, grabbing my hand and pulling me until I faced him. I tilted my head back just enough to look up into his eyes, and I froze when I saw the flicker of need that crossed his face before he schooled his features.
We stood there in silence for a moment, him with his eyes slightly narrowed, and me with mine wide.
His hand slid slowly up my arm from my wrist, and an involuntary shiver wracked my body.
"How do you expect me to behave when you react to me like this?" His voice was a whisper, barely audible. But I'd heard it, and what I thought was likely already a blush deepened on my face.
His breathing picked up, his fingers wrapping around my bicep. "Sage."
My name was a plea on his lips as his eyes scanned my face. He knew as well as I did that this was wrong. That this attraction wasn't a good idea. He was my father's friend, for fuck's sake.
And yet all I wanted to do was sneak him up to my old room and let him do whatever he wanted to me. I wanted his hand around my throat and his cock inside of me.
His eyes narrowed further like he could read my thoughts before he glanced behind him, towards the hallway that led to the living room where my parents had already started the movie. It was one we'd see a few times, so I had told them that they could start it as I made the brownies.
He turned his attention back to me, and I could see the emotions warring in his mind just by the way he looked at me.
And then he turned me and pinned me against the counter before leaning down and pressing his lips against mine.
His lips were soft. So, so soft. They moved against mine with an intensity that made my knees weak. His tongue ran against the seam of my lips until I opened for him, and the groan he let out made me grip the counter to keep from falling.
One of his hands came down and gripped my hip, pulling me closer, while the other cupped the back of my head. His tongue danced against mine, tasting me as I tasted him.
He pulled away just slightly, his eyes blazing. "Fuck."
My heart pounded in my chest as I looked up at him. His bright blue eyes were on my lips, and when I ran my tongue over them, the groan he let out made me damn near whimper in response.
He pulled away from me, closing his eyes and breathing out slowly.
I gripped the counter harder, lowering my head to close my own eyes. I could still feel his lips on mine, still taste his mouth. And the fact that it was wrong only added to my need.
I didn't think I'd be able to go in and watch the movie with him next to me. I needed to finish making the brownies and go home or I'd do something I'd eventually regret.
When I opened my eyes, he was already watching me.
"Brownies." I choked out, turning and finishing getting them in the baking dish before practically throwing them into the preheated oven.
His hands caged me in, one hand on the countertop, and the other on the stovetop, on either side of me. I felt his body heat at my back, his presence overwhelming me.
"Ich will dich." He murmured, and I wondered if he realized I'd been studying German just so I could understand him when he made little offhand comments that seemingly came out of nowhere.
I want you.
I closed my eyes, trying to keep my breathing even, acting like I hadn't understood.
"Ich will dich so sehr, dass ich alles dafür geben würde, dich zu haben." He whispered.
I stopped breathing then.
I want you so much that I would give anything to have you.
An involuntary shiver danced up my spine and I let out a slow, uneven breath.
"You understand." His voice was soft, and it didn't come out as a question. He knew already.
I nodded once, glad that I was facing away from him for the time.
Before, he'd only cursed or said something under his breath in regards to whatever movie we were watching. It was never this. Never something so intimate.
He was the one who taught me the word for giant years ago, saying it sounded better coming from my lips than the English word. I never told him I was learning. Never told him I'd been able to understand him for almost a year now.
"Ich möchte dich auch." I whispered, my voice tripping slightly over the words. I hadn't practiced speaking it much. Just understanding it. "But..."
"Your dad?" He asked, his voice low enough to where no one else would hear it.
I nodded again.
I felt his breath on my neck as he leaned down to get closer. "Are we not adults?"
I was about to tell him that yes, we were adults. Awesome reasoning. Let's leave. Go back to my place so I could scratch this itch that has been fucking festering for months.
"Sage." His voice was like a growl in my ear and goosebumps raced across my skin.
"Kaspar." I said back, my voice too breathless. It gave away too much.
His hands moved from the counter to my hips. He gripped them, and slowly pressed himself against me. He was hard against my lower back, and I choked on a breath at not only the fact that this simple interaction turned him on, but because of how big he felt against me.
My brain was at war with itself. On one end, yes we were both adults. I wanted him, and he obviously wanted me too. And honestly I was hoping it was a one and done type thing where I could get this growing need out of my system.
On the other end, he was my dad's friend. Sure, he was closer to my age. But he was still ten years older than me. And what if I ended up wanting it to be more than a one time thing? Eventually my dad would find out, wouldn't he?
"We're going to finish watching this movie." He said quietly. "And then you're going to decide whether or not you're going to come home with me."
I didn't respond. If I did, I would have immediately agreed. That want was quickly turning into a need as I felt him move his hips slightly against me.
Instinctively, I moved back against him, pressing myself harder against him. A harsh breath escaped his mouth, and his fingers dug into my hips.
"Think very carefully about how you act, little one." He said, voice still low.
"Or what?" I ask, my eyes found the timer. Ten more minutes until the brownies were done, and maybe fifty five more minutes of the movie.
He leaned down and bit into my shoulder, and I squeaked, my eyes flying open wide. His hand came up and covered my mouth, and he sucked at the skin before running his tongue over it.
"If you really want to find out, keep acting like a brat." He whispered in my ear before pulling away.
I looked over my shoulder to see him grin at me before going into the living room.
Christ.
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