Page 5 of Fifth Avenue Flirt

The corners of my lips twitch, but I stop myself from smiling. I don’t want her to think I’m laughing at her. I am, but only because she’s so…brutal. And funny.

“Are you in a rush?” I ask. “If you need to be somewhere, I can call you a cab, but in my experience, the longer the buildup, the better the payoff. I’m not a guy who’s all about sprinting to the finish. I like to take my time and enjoy the journey.” I step towards her, so we’re face to face. She lifts her chin, waiting for my kiss.

And I reach behind her and pull out two omelet pans and slide them onto the hob.

She sighs. “Isn’t the journey toward sex kissing on the mouth or a flirtatious touch or something? In my experience, it doesn’t usually involve a frying pan.”

Fuck this woman is a lot. Not too much, but she’s a lot. “Maybe we can try that later. I’m going to make myself an omelet.”

She folds her arms and leans against the counter. I try to ignore her as I pull the eggs and cheese from the fridge and the salt, pepper, and olive oil from their resting places.

“You’re really going to make yourself an omelet, aren’t you?” she asks.

“I really am,” I say, handing her the spatula. “Take that. Wrap your fist around it nice and tight.” I hold her gaze.

“This is what gets you hot? A woman with a spatula? This is so typically my luck,” she says. “I don’t know why it happens to me over and over. I think I’m going to get one thing with a guy, and I end up with exactly the opposite of what I’ve been promised. Guys are always pretending to be something they’re not. What is that? If you have a micro-penis or are terrible in bed, why bother coming on like a big-dicked lothario? Just to woo a woman. Women will put up with a lot for a guy who knows how to treat her. But I didn’t ask to be wooed. I didn’t come here for supper. I came for sex. I’m getting the exact opposite of what I wanted. And you know what? If I’d just wanted to have dinner with a man, he’d most likely stop at Joe and the Juice, pick up two Iced Oat Spring Flings and then ask to go back to my apartment for a blow job. This city is exhausting.”

“Are you done?” I ask her with a smirk, as I whisk six eggs in the glass bowl.

“Done?”

“Complaining about all the men in New York City. Because when I last looked, it was just you and me here.”

“I’m also complaining about you, specifically. We were supposed to be naked by now.”

“You’re going to need some energy for what I’ve got planned.” I fix her with a look, and her cheeks pink and my dick twitches.

Tonight is going to be so much fun.

I pour half the egg mix into each of the two hot pans on the burners, enjoying the sizzle of the mixture meeting the oil. I turn and put the grill to high and then begin to shred the cheese.

“Empty promises,” she says. “But I’ll take a cheese omelet, if that’s what’s on offer.”

“Think of it as an appetizer,” I reply, and she rolls her eyes.

I chuckle. She’s funny, and I think she knows it too. She’s complaining, but she’s also teasing me. I appreciate the thin line she’s dancing.

“The word unctuous has two meanings,” I say.

“Oh, and we’ve moved on to the part of the evening when you expand my vocabulary?” She shakes her head a little. “How fantastic. I was entirely mis-sold tonight.”

I laugh. The corners of her mouth twitch and she deepens her scowl, like she’s willing her smile not to give her amusement away.

“Unctuous can mean rich and creamy,” I continue. “But it can also mean obsequious, slick, and insincere.” I put the two frying pans under the grill to melt the cheese.

“Thank you, dictionary dot com.”

“The same word can have two meanings, Avril.” I catch her gaze and hold it. She’s beautiful. She has that look that says she doesn’t give a shit, but she can’t help but be gorgeous.

“Are you trying to be deep, Ben? Because it doesn’t suit you. You’re far too pretty.”

I pull the omelets out from under the grill and I slide them onto two small plates. I pull out two forks from the drawer of cutlery and offer her one.

“I’m saying, eat your omelet and then I’m going to eat you.”

She blushes and bites back a smile.

She snatches the fork from me. “It better be good.”