"You know, you need a housekeeper or a cook." Tord's voice early the next afternoon had you jumping in surprising awareness as you finished filling the teapot. You turned, facing him, thinking what a shame it was that one man would have such sexual presence.

He stood propped against the doorway, dressed in black slacks and a dark red silk shirt. His red hoodie was held at his shoulder by the crook of his finger, and his gray eyes regarding uoi with lustful secrets.

"I'm perfectly capable of cooking my own meals and cleaning my house." You shrugged. You had been raised to do for yourself, and the cleaning gave you something to do, a way to occupy your hands when your body was filled with restless energy.

He straightened from the doorframe, walking to the table with casual male grace that threatened to take your breath. You turned quickly away from him, moving to the cabinet to retrieve your tea cup. You fought to still your shaking hands, the nervousness in your stomach that wouldn't seem to go away. You felt immature, like a quaking child before him. It was... Unbalancing.

"What if you became busy? Or found a lover?" he asked you then.

You fought back your panic. You felt aged, pasted the time when you could be worried about your future, or a man in your life.

"I'm not looking for a lover, Tord." You poured hot water in your glass, moving with what you hoped was casual unconcern to the work isle in the center of the room.

You leaned your hip against it, lowering your head as you concentrated on stirring cream and sugar into the dark liquid. You were well aware of his desire for you; a desire you knew wouldn't last beyond the moment. You had no illusions about yourself. You was growing older, and your body was slowly showing the signs of it. It wasn't something to worry much about, until you were faced with Tord. He made you feel so much younger in the head, like a teenage. He made you feel desired, and it was dangerous to allow herself to be convinced that it could go any further. Too dangerous for your heart.

You watched as he laid his hoodie over the back if a chair then move to the cabinet and snag a cup for himself. His arm reaching up, muscles bunching in his shoulder and back. You shivered, your hands itching to touch him, to feel the strength of motion beneath his flesh.

He turned back to you, leaning against the counter as he regarded you quizzically. "Do you have a lover?"

His voice was whisky rough and dark. It caused arousal to zip along your nerve endings, your skin to become sensitive, needy for his touch. You hated it.

"That's really none of your business." You fought to stay in control. He would leave soon; you knew Edd depended on him at the corporate offices. Not that syou understood any legal talk you had ever heard in the past, but his job, you knew, was complicated and often required late nights and full days. You were hoping that would keep him out of your hair for the most part.

"Maybe I want to make it my business." His voice thickening with his accent as he watched you, his gaze brooding.

You couldn't stop the surprise that you knew was reflecting on your face. You blinked over at him, your chest tightening in unwanted excitement, your vagina throbbing in unwanted preparation for his touch.

"Why would you want to?" You couldn't understand his desire for you in anyway. "I'm not in the market for complications, Tord. A lover is, by his very nature, a complication."

He titled his head, his lips quirking in amusement as you raised the tea cup to your lips.

"Don't you ever get horny, [Y/N]?" You nearly dropped the cup. The tea you had just drank threatened to choke you as it went down.

You wheezed, your eyes widening, tearing as you stared at him in shock.

"For god's sake," You bit out when you could breath again. "Is that any of your business, in anyway, Tord?"

"Actually, it is." he shrugged his shoulders with deceptive laziness. "I want you, [Y/N]. I want to lay you down and touch you in all the ways a man can. I want to fuck you until you're screaming in agony, because it feels so damn good it hurts. So yeah..." He nodded. "It's my business."

The breath lodged in your throat. She felt your cunt cream, your thighs tremble at the thought of him powering into you, fucking you as you screamed. You had never screamed, never wanted anything desperate enough to beg. But you couldn't have Tord. Anger, directed at yourself, at him, poured through you.

You felt your face flush, your body trembled, as you fought for control.

"Sorry, Tord." You smiled tightly. "I'm not really in the market for a boy toy this year. I guess you just lucked out."

You didn't give him time to reply. Before he could cut you down, before he could tempt you further, you swept from the room, rushing to the safety of your bedroom where your control wasn't important. Where it wouldn't matter if the tears that filled your eyes escaped. All that mattered was the Tord didn't know.