Mr. Johnson

Twenty-Eight

Greyson Walker

I wait on his barstool, patiently, while puts on his clothes (that he insisted on).

"I don't know what all I have here," he opens his pantry, sifting through it, "I can make chicken parmesan? I think I have some garlic butter in the fridge for toasted bread. How does that sound?"

I do a chef's kiss, "Parfaite."

He looks over his shoulder, "Parlez-vous francais?"

I smile, "Oui, et toi?"

He turns back into his pantry, "Oui."

I open the fridge door, moving a few things around in search of the garlic butter, "Found it."

Killian places his ingredients on the counter, "On a scale of one to master chef, what would you be?"

My eyebrows raise, "I can cook a fantastic grilled cheese."

"Okay," he laughs, "Why don't you sit and watch?"

"Sounds good to me," I shrug and return to the barstool, "So, do you want to talk about the engagement? Or who Ali is?"

He slowly raises his eyes to meet mine, "Not really."

"About the engagement? Or about Ali?"

Killian rests his elbows on the counter, leaning across to get closer to me, "Both."

"Well that's not very fair."

He didn't seem to care if it was fair or not, he turns away and begins to cook. I wander around the apartment, investigating his minimal choice of decor.

"You need some color in here."

A laugh comes from the kitchen, "I prefer the simplistic clean look."

"If that is what you want to call it."

"Come here," he waves me over, "Try this."

I lean against the counter as he holds the spoon of sauce to my lips.

"Mmmm," I hum as I savor the taste, "It's delicious."

Killian smirks at me as I lick my lips. He puts the spoon over the handle of the sauce pan, and steps closer to me.

His body closes in on the space between us as I press against the counter.

"Why?"

My eyebrows push together, "Why what?"

His hands firmly grip my hips, raising me up and onto the counter. He presses himself between my legs, "Why can I not stop thinking about you?"

I stare into his eyes, "I don't know."

Killian leans closer until his lips are grazing mine as he speaks, "And the worst part is that you are not mine."

His lips linger gently agraze to mine when he finishes speaking.

He wants me to make the choice....

Without any more hesitation, I gently press my mouth to his until it is no longer just a graze, but a heated enveloping kiss.

Killian Johnson

She kisses me with heat. Her mouth opens just enough to allow her to moan into mine, and it drives me crazy. Her hands find my hair, twirling and gripping, and tugging.

I pick her up off of the counter as she wraps her legs around my waist- just like the first night we met.

If I would have known then what I know now....