NOVEL NEXT Chapter 12
“Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Close your eyes, darling. Please.”
I did as I was asked, sitting down at the table. The kitchen wasn’t very big, with two exceptions. There was a fridge-freezer combo you could slap a license plate on and legally drive across state lines, and the spice rack was elaborate enough to get lost in. I closed my eyes, and let the various smells overwhelm me. There was the familiar smell of bacon, but there were spices in the air I couldn’t immediately place.
Dutifully, eyes closed, I opened my mouth and barely resisted going ‘aahh’. I felt Madeline’s presence next to me. Her presence was like being next to a space heater, a warmth that transcended physical heat and warmed my soul instead. A hand rested on my shoulder. I quickly turned my head to plant a quick kiss on it and blindly grinned up at her cheekily. My smile evaporated as she caressed my cheek, breath escaping my lips. She was so kind and gentle an--
“Open your mouth, dear.” Oh, right. I’d almost forgotten why I had my eyes closed. I opened my mouth and chomped down when a forkful of food was offered. It was… amazing. Eye-wateringly good, which is why I opened them to stare at her, chewing slowly so as not to lose taste right away. I wanted to savour it as long as possible but I also wanted to gush to her about how good this was. She had a hand on her hip, looking at me smugly.
I wondered if she always wore an apron in the kitchen, or if this had been for my benefit. Her bathrobe hung over a chair and the long strip of cloth, attached only by a few pieces of string, were the only thing covering her up. I couldn’t help but stare, especially with my mouth full. Sure, it was fun to steal glances at the parts of her the apron failed to hide, but it was her face, that triumphant, slightly lopsided smile, the horns, the everything… it was almost too much. After a little bit of me making googly eyes at her, she clearly became a little bashful and turned back to the stove, flashing me her perfect ass. She winked at me over her shoulder and then, when she looked at the stove, quickly took everything off the heat.
“That was… incredible,” I finally managed. She smiled at me. “And so is the food.” A small blush on her part. I briefly considered letting her see what my brain had conjured up, when she’d turned her behind to me, but I figured it was probably safer to let her focus on the food. “What was that?”
“Quail egg with some spices I picked up in Istanbul last year,” she said matter-of-factly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “And a sauce I’m not divulging the contents of just yet. But it took a long time to get right.” At first, I thought she was going to say something lewd or teasing, but her expression was one of professional pride. “The trick is to get the consistency just right so it mixes with th-- I’m sorry, if you don’t stop me I’ll be talking about this for hours.”
I bit my lip and just… fawned over her. “I don’t mind,” I said breathlessly. Goodness I didn’t. I’d always been attracted to people passionately talking about things, and I could tell that she cared, and there were few things as attractive as that. “It tastes amazing. Best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” I said without thinking. Her grin showed me the error of my ways.
“That’s true,” she said. “We didn’t get around to that last night.” I blushed furiously at my plate as she walked over and scooped up a sizable helping of what looked to be scrambled eggs, bacon, sun-dried tomatoes and… some things I couldn’t quite place. It was redder than I’d expected it to be. If it was more of what she’d just fed me, I couldn’t wait to find out. She sat down opposite me at the small table and smiled. We ate our breakfast in silence. We had to, because I wasn’t going to be speaking much, other than moaning appreciatively. The food was too good to speak over, but she needed to know how good it was. I cleaned up my plate with a piece of toast, trying to make sure nothing went to waste. I ended up having to lick off my fingers -- which was an easier but more involved process when done with a forked tongue. I caught her eye in the middle of it. She was just staring at me with wide eyes.
I slipped my tongue back into my mouth. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose!” I said with slight indignation. She raised her eyebrows in disbelief and smiled, but said nothing. I started to stammer something, when I felt something brush against my leg. It was already past my knee when I realized it was her foot. She simply steepled her fingers like she was a kind of disney villainess and continued her advancement. I took a deep breath as I felt her tease my inner thigh. My bathrobe had fallen open and there was definitely an… exposure to the open air happening. I gasped but she retreated and got up as if nothing had happened, leaving me squirming in my seat, but I noticed that her apron had acquired something of a bump at the front as she put the pan and our plates in the sink. Taking the cutlery and our glasses in a pretense to go over and help her, I walked up behind her, wrapping my arms around her to put everything next to the dishes. She gasped when I immediately slid my hands under the apron. My bathrobe had fallen open more so she could feel me press against her naked back, though I was sure her attention was focused elsewhere.
I softly kissed her between her shoulderblades as I gripped her length and squeezed. She whimpered, leaning forward softly. I pushed back and she made another sound. Slowly, I began to stroke her, one hand massaging her breasts. She only mewled and groaned softly as I continued my ministrations. It took only seconds for natural lubricant to provide itself, and I happily coated her in her own slickness. She shuddered and stood upright, leaning her head on my shoulder to kiss me.
I squeezed her shaft again and she moaned into my mouth. I glanced at the clock and had a devious idea. Still gently stroking her, I nibbled her ear and then whispered. “It’s too bad you have to open the library, or I’d be able to make a comparison right now. See what tastes better.” I slightly quickened the pace and then stopped. She groaned in frustration and looked at the clock. I was right. She had ten, maybe fifteen minutes to get dressed and open the library doors.
She spun around, her cheeks flushed a deep purple, beads of sweat on her forehead. Her black lips were parted slightly, and her panting made it very hard for me not to make her late for work. “You!” she said, and I just grinned. I’d learned a lot from her, after all. She might have been taller, but height wasn’t everything. I quickly reached forward and grabbed her again, the apron completely unable to keep me out.
“Yes, dear?” I asked in the best impression of her voice I could do. Immediately she reached back to steady herself on the counter. The look in her eyes was pleading. I squeezed, once, and then let go, pulling her in for a kiss instead. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” Another kiss.
“You better,” she panted, and scurried off to get dressed. I enjoyed watching her go, tail swishing left to right with every step. I realized neither of us had our wings out. Might have simply been too impractical in bed, something we’d decided on subconsciously. Interesting.
A little bit later, she came out of the bedroom wearing a sleeveless turtleneck and her jeans, with sensible little black flats, and my dress over one arm. I looked at it, and then at her. She offered it to me sheepishly. “I’d like for you to come with me,” she said. I hadn’t wanted to ask. It felt like it would’ve been impolite, so for her to offer for me to join her at work had me squeaking happily. I grabbed the dress and excitedly ran to the bedroom to get changed. She’d also put out the underwear we’d bought the day before, so I wouldn’t be going commando the entire time. Good, I wasn’t in the mood to be publicly seen getting railed in the library but if I was going to be that exposed around her I knew for a fact neither of us would’ve been able to contain ourselves.
When I presented myself with a little ‘ta-dah!’ she clapped enthusiastically, then led the way to a door. I’d expected us to go through the front door, but evidently her house had a direct connection to the library. Interesting. Useful!
She opened the door, turned the lights on, did all of the start-of-the-day prep things while I aimlessly walked the shelves. The books were different to me now. Originally, they’d all held the promise of stories, but now many of them carried with them a kind of… aura. The same warmth that had come off Madeline, if a lot less powerful. It was nourishing just to walk between them, but when I picked one and opened it, reading a few passages, it was like drinking a glass of cold water on a hot day. I closed it quickly. Becoming a librarian made a lot of sense for Madeline if it was this intense with every book.
“I love that one,” Madeline said from behind me. “There’s a girl across town that reads it once a month. She cries at page two-hundred-and-forty-five every time. If I’m in a weepy mood I’ll get a glass of wine and read it in the evening. Her experiences make the book a lot better.” She took it out of my hands gently and sniffed it, then sighed. “Honestly, the story is mediocre at best, but she cares so much I can’t help but cry along with her.” She handed it back to me and I carefully put it back.
Madeline led me to her desk, a large semicircle that cordoned off a far wall she could hide behind. There were four monitors, two per computer. As she walked, her fingers ran over the spines. “I love experiencing these stories the way other people do. It’s all well and good to read a book myself, but this way I get to experience the adventures with someone else.” She shot me a glance over her shoulder that made something in my lower belly do a backflip. There was a question there, or a statement. A request or an offer, maybe.
I said nothing, but caught her hand and took it in mine. Our fingers entangled as we walked in silence for a bit, the quiet of the library surrounding us completely. She did end up having to do some actual work and she sat behind one of the computers. She swiveled the chair as she waited for it to boot up. “Do you have any ideas for a name yet?”
I sat down on a large cabinet and dangled my legs off the edge, kicking my feet. “There’s a few things I’ve been considering, but I wanted your input.” I caught her eyes. “Not like that
.” I stuck out my tongue, then paused and reconsidered. “I mean, I do want your input like that. But also on the name thing.” She grinned and swiveled some more, never taking her eyes off me. “I just want it to sound right, you know?”“What are you thinking?” she asked, and turned quickly to enter a password, after which the computer continued its glacial startup sequence.
“I originally figured something from literature, but I also want it to be mine.” There was another aspect to it, but I didn’t want to say that part, not out loud, not yet. I wanted to hear what she thought of it first. “I quite like the name Evelyne.”
She cocked her head and whispered it a few times, as if trying to taste the name. Eventually, she bit her lip and nodded. “I like it. Evelyne. It’s a good name. Pretty. It suits you.” I blushed. “Hold on,” she added. “Evelyne and Madeline?” I blushed more.
“The way I see it,” I said, “no matter what the future holds, you’re the one who got me here. A small nod to you seemed… right. And I still get to be my own person. Eve, Evie, all that jazz.”
“Evie and Maddie?” she grinned but I hopped off the cabinet and approached her. I wasn’t smiling, and hers faded when I stood in front of her.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’d like that.”
“Oh.”
