This is inspired by Image 15
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Nadia is thirty-seven. Senior editor at a publishing house. Divorced two years.

Her ex-husband, Michael, is a nice man. That was the problem. He was nice at dinner. Nice in bed. Nice when she told him she wanted more and he said, “I’ll try,” and then didn’t. She left him not because he was cruel but because she was bored. Bored of the same Tuesday. Bored of missionary with the lights off. Bored of feeling like her body was something he checked off on a list.

She told herself after the divorce that she was done with complicated. No more fixing broken men. No more waiting for someone to match her fire. She bought a vibrator. She told herself that was enough.

It wasn’t. But she pretended.

Then Alex joined as an summer intern.

Twenty-two. Final year of college. Assigned to her department because someone in HR , probably Janet, who hated her , thought it would be funny. A young man in hovering over Nadia . A test of her patience really.

She did not want him.

Too young. Too pretty. Too damn observant.

The first week, she ignored him. The second week, she snapped at him forabsolutely no reason at all. He didn’t feel bad or embarrased . Just nodded and fixed the thing she was angry about before she finished explaining it.

The third week, he brought her coffee. Black, one sugar. She hadn’t told him how she took it. He had watched her. Paid attention. She hated how much she liked that.

By the fourth week, she was imagining him naked.

She told herself it was just biology. He was young and fit and had that jawline , the kind thatlike a greek god posseses. It meant nothing. She was a professional. She would never.

Then came the late night.

She was alone in the office, editing a manuscript that made her want to throw her laptop out the window. He came back to get his phone charger. He found her crying at her desk. Not sobbing. Just leaking , tired and lonely and furious at herself for feeling either.

He didn’t say anything. He just sat down across from her and waited.

She told him everything. The divorce. The boredom. The fear that she had already had the best sex of her life and it wasn’t even that good. She told him things she hadn’t told her best friend.

He listened. Then he said, “You’re not boring. You’re just hungry.”

She asked him what he meant.

He said, “You want someone to eat you like they’re starving. And you’re scared no one will.”

She kissed him first. She pushed him onto the office couch first. She rode him first.

He was not gentle. He was not nice. He put his hands on her hips and fucked up into her like she was the last woman on earth. She came so hard she bit his shoulder to keep from screaming. He didn’t complain. He just held her tighter.

That was two months ago.

They have been fucking ever since. No labels. No promises. Just late nights at her apartment, quick texts that say “Come over” with no period, and the best sex she has had in her entire life.

But tonight is different.

Tonight, she is cooking for him. At her place. For the first time.

She told herself it’s just dinner. She is lying.

Part Two: The Kitchen

The kitchen smelled like garlic and butter.

Nadia stirred the risotto with one hand and held a glass of Chardonnay with the other. Her hips moved slightly to the old soul record playing from the living room ,marvin gaye sipping chardonnay , She wore a thin cashmere sweater, charcoal gray, and dark jeans that hugged her ass. Her hair was in a loose bun. No bra. She knew what she was doing.

Alex sat at the kitchen behind her.

She could feel his eyes on her back. Hot. Heavy. Like a hand she couldn’t see.

Nadia: “You’re staring.”

Alex: “I’m appreciating.”

Nadia: “Same thing.”

Alex: “No. Staring is passive. Appreciating is active. Staring is what you do when you’re confused. I’m not confused.”

She smiled into the pot. God, he made her smile. It was annoying.

Nadia: “And what are you, then?”

Alex: “Hungry.”

Nadia: “Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”

Alex: “I’m not hungry for the risotto.”

She felt her stomach tighten. He had a way of saying things , not loud, not aggressive , that made her wet instantly. It was infuriating. She was thirty-seven. She had negotiated six-figure book deals. She should not be flustered by a twenty-two-year-old intern saying the word “hungry.”

But here she was.

Nadia: “You’re going to have to wait.”

Alex: “I’ve been waiting two months for you to cook for me. I’m done waiting.”

She heard him slide off the stool. His footsteps were soft on the tile. She didn’t turn around. She gripped the wooden spoon tighter.

Nadia: “Alex.”

Alex: “Yeah?”

Nadia: “You’re supposed to behave.”

Alex: “I behaved for eight weeks. I brought you coffee. I organized your files. I watched you walk past my desk every day in those skirts and I didn’t touch you. I’m done behaving.”

His chest pressed against her back.

She inhaled sharply. His body was warm , so warm , and she could feel every inch of him through her thin sweater. His hips against her ass. His thighs against hers. His breath on her neck.

Alex: “Tell me to stop.”

Nadia: “I should.”

Alex: “But you won’t.”

Nadia: “Don’t tell me what I won’t do.”

Alex: “Then tell me to stop.”

She didn’t.

His hands landed on her hips. Not light. Not asking. He gripped her , hard , his fingers digging into the curve of her waist.

Nadia: “The risotto.”

Alex: “Fuck the risotto.”

Nadia: “I spent an hour on this.”

Alex: “I spent two months watching you touch yourself through your pants when you thought I wasn’t looking.”

She froze.

Nadia: “What?”

Alex: “Your office. Glass walls. You forgot I was there late one night. You had your hand down your jeans. You called my name.”

Her face burned. She had thought that was a dream. A fantasy.

Alex: “It wasn’t a dream, Nadia. I watched you cum thinking about me. And then you pretended nothing happened the next morning.”

Nadia: “I , “

Alex: “You don’t have to pretend with me. Not anymore.”

His hands slid up her sides. Slow. Deliberate. His thumbs traced her ribs through the cashmere. She felt each rib. Each breath. Her entire body was on fire and he hadn’t even touched her breasts yet.

Nadia: “Alex.”

Alex: “Say my name again.”

Nadia: “Alex.”

Alex: “Louder.”

Nadia: “Alex.”

She said it like a chant.

His palms cupped her breasts.

She gasped. Not a small gasp. A loud, ragged, hungry gasp that came from somewhere deep in her chest. His fingers found her nipples through the thin fabric. Rolling. Squeezing. Pinching just hard enough to make her hips jerk backward against him.

Alex: “No bra.”

Nadia: “You knew that.”

Alex: “I wanted to feel it.”

He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples in slow circles. She moaned. Her head fell back against his shoulder. Her eyes fluttered shut. When they opened again, they were glassy and dark and completely undone.

Alex: “There she is.”

Nadia: “Shut up.”

Alex: “There’s the woman who cums on my cock like she’s trying to break me.”

Nadia: “I said shut up.”

Alex: “Make me.”

She grabbed his wrist. But she didn’t push him away. She held on. Her fingers wrapped around his arm like he was the only thing keeping her standing.

Nadia: “If you stop right now, I will actually cry.”

Alex: “I’m not going to stop.”

Nadia: “Then stop talking.”

He laughed against her neck. A low, warm sound that vibrated through her entire body. Then he bit her earlobe. Not hard. Just enough to make her whimper.

Alex: “You’re so wet already. I can smell you.”

Nadia: “That’s the garlic.”

Alex: “No. It’s you. I’ve smelled you on my fingers a hundred times. I know what you smell like.”

She turned off the stove.

The risotto would be fine. Or it wouldn’t. She didn’t care.

She spun around in his arms.

Her back hit the counter. His hands went under her sweater, pushing it up. No bra. He already knew.

He looked at her breasts , full, heavy, nipples hard and dark. He stared like he had never seen them before. Like he was memorizing them.

Alex: “You planned this.”

Nadia: “I planned dinner.”

Alex: “You planned to be fucked in your kitchen.”

She didn’t deny it.

Alex: “You wore no bra. You wore these jeans , the ones that make your ass look fat. You put on Marvin Gaye.”

Nadia: “Marvin Gaye is romantic.”

Alex: “Marvin Gaye is foreplay.”

He lowered his head and took her nipple into his mouth.

She cried out. Loud. Too loud. His mouth was hot and wet and he sucked like he was trying to pull something out of her , something deep, something she had been hiding for years.

Alex: “You taste like skin and soap and you. I could do this all night.”

Nadia: “You won’t.”

Alex: “You’re right.”

He switched to the other nipple. Bit down gently. She moaned , a sound she didn’t recognize, raw and desperate. Her fingers tangled in his hair. She pulled. He groaned against her skin.

Nadia: “Bedroom.”

Alex: “No.”

Nadia: “Alex.”

Alex: “I’m going to fuck you right here. On this counter. And you’re going to cum so hard you forget your own name.”

Nadia: “That’s very confident.”

Alex: “It’s not confidence. It’s experience. I’ve fucked you forty-seven times in two months. I know exactly what makes you scream.”

She laughed breathlessly. He was not wrong.

He dropped to his knees.

Nadia: “Alex , “

Alex: “Shh.”

He unbuttoned her jeans. Pulled them down. Her underwear too. One motion. She stepped out of them. He looked up at her , her sweater bunched around her ribs, her chest heaving, her cunt bare and wet and glistening under the kitchen lights.

Alex: “Look at you.”

Nadia: “Stop staring.”

Alex: “I’ll never stop staring.”

He put his mouth on her.

She screamed.

Not a moan. Not a gasp. A full, throaty, broken scream that bounced off the tile walls. His tongue was flat and wide, licking up from her entrance to her clit. Then flicking. Fast. Then slow. Then fast again.

She grabbed his hair. She pulled. He groaned into her cunt and the vibration made her knees buckle.

Nadia: “Fuck , Alex , “

Alex: “I know.”

Nadia: “I’m going to , “

Alex: “Not yet.”

He stopped.

She whimpered. Actually whimpered. She was thirty-seven years old and she was whimpering like a girl having sex for the first time .

Nadia: “Why did you stop?”

Alex: “Because I want to watch you beg.”

Nadia: “I don’t beg.”

Alex: “You do. You just haven’t yet.”

He slid two fingers inside her. Curled them. Hit that spot , that deep, secret spot that made her see stars. Her hips bucked. He held her down with his other hand on her belly.

Alex: “Beg.”

Nadia: “No.”

He moved his fingers slower. Torture slow.

Nadia: “Alex.”

Alex: “Beg.”

Nadia: “Please.”

Alex: “Please what?”

Nadia: “Please don’t stop. Please make me cum. Please , “

He put his mouth back on her and she came.

It was not gentle. It was not quiet. It was a , full-body shaking, tears flowing kind of orgasm. Her hands fisted in his hair. Her thighs clamped around his ears. Her whole body arched off the counter and she screamed his name , loud, raw, nothing like the senior editor.

He didn’t stop until she pushed him away, gasping.

Nadia: “Get up.”

He stood. His mouth was wet. His chin was wet. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and grinned.

Alex: “Good?”

Nadia: “Shut up and fuck me.”

She pulled him by his shirt. Kissed him. Tasted herself on his lips. It was filthy and she loved it.

Nadia: “Your turn.”

Alex: “No. My turn isn’t over.”

He turned her around. Pushed her chest down against the counter. Her bare ass against the front of his jeans. She felt him , hard and thick and straining against the fabric.

Alex: “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Nadia: “Show me.”

He unzipped. She heard him. Heard the sound of his belt, his zipper, his cock springing free.

Nadia: “Condom.”

Alex: “Top drawer. Left of the stove.”

She laughed shakily.

Nadia: “You checked my kitchen for condoms?”

Alex: “I checked your kitchen the first time you invited me over. I’m an intern. We prepare.”

He stepped back just long enough to roll it on. Then he was behind her again. His hand on her hip. His cock pressed against her entrance. Wet. Slick. So ready.

Alex: “Last chance to tell me to stop.”

Nadia: “If you stop, I will kill you.”

Alex: “That’s illegal.”

Nadia: “So is fucking your boss on her kitchen counter.”

Alex: “Then we’re both criminals.”

He pushed inside her.

One hard, deep thrust. She cried out , her palms slapping the counter. The salt cellar tipped over. The pepper mill rolled onto the floor. Neither of them noticed.

He fucked her hard. Fast. No gentleness. His hips slapping against her ass. Her moans turning into words that weren’t words. His hand reached around and found her clit , rubbing in fast circles while he pounded into her.

Alex: “You feel that?”

Nadia: “Yes , yes , “

Alex: “That’s me not being a fling.”

Nadia: “Alex , “

Alex: “That’s me not going anywhere.”

She came again. Harder this time. Her whole body locking up, then shuddering, her cunt squeezing him so tight he groaned through his teeth.

He pulled out. Turned her around. Lifted her onto the counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He pushed back inside her. Face to face. His forehead against hers.

Alex: “Look at me.”

She did. Her eyes wet. Her mouth open. Her body trembling.

Alex: “You’re not too old for this.”

Nadia: “I know.”

Alex: “You’re not going to ruin me. I’m not a kid.”

Nadia: “I know.”

Alex: “Then stop acting like this is temporary.”

She kissed him. Deep. Messy. He came inside her , hard, shuddering, his hands gripping her thighs so tight they’d leave bruises.

She didn’t mind.

They stayed on the counter for a while.

Him still inside her. Her fingers in his hair. The risotto cold and forgotten. Marvin had stopped playing. The only sound was their breathing.

Alex: “Dinner’s ruined.”

Nadia: “You ruined it.”

Alex: “You let me.”

She kissed his shoulder.

Nadia: “I’m not going to pretend this is just sex anymore.”

Alex: “Good.”

Nadia: “But I’m also not going to introduce you to my daughter next week.”

Alex: “Next month?”

Nadia: “Maybe.”

Alex: “I’ll take maybe.”

He pulled out slowly. She winced , oversensitive, satisfied, sore in the best way. He helped her off the counter. Her legs were shaky. He noticed. Smirked.

Alex: “You okay there, senior editor?”

Nadia: “Shut up, intern.”

Alex: “Make me.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bedroom.

Nadia: “The risotto is already dead. The night isn’t.”

Alex: “Where are we going?”

Nadia: “Shower. Bed. Shower again.”

Alex: “In that order?”

Nadia: “I’m flexible.”

He followed her. Grinning.

The risotto sat alone on the stove. Cold.

The Shower

The bathroom was warm. Steam filled the mirror. Nadia stood under the hot water, her hands braced against the tile, Alex behind her.

He soaped her back. Her shoulders. Her arms.

Alex: “You’re tense.”

Nadia: “I just got fucked on my kitchen counter. I’m allowed to be tense.”

Alex: “That’s not the kind of tense I meant.”

She was quiet.

Alex: “Talk to me.”

Nadia: “I don’t know what this is.”

Alex: “What do you want it to be?”

Nadia: “I asked first.”

He turned her around. Pressed her against the tile. The water ran down both of them , his chest, her breasts, the space between their bodies.

Alex: “I want to be the person you call when something good happens. And when something bad happens. I want to know your daughter’s name , her real name, not just the one you’ve told me. I want to meet your friends and have them make fun of how young I am and not care.”

Nadia: “That’s a lot.”

Alex: “It is. But it’s also simple. I like you, Nadia. I like you when you’re bossy at work and I like you when you’re soft in bed. I like that you cry at manuscripts and pretend you don’t. I like that you left your husband because you wanted more.”

Nadia: “I left him because I was bored.”

Alex: “Same thing. You wanted to feel alive. Do I make you feel alive?”

She looked at him. Water dripping from his hair. His young face. His old eyes.

Nadia: “Yes.”

Alex: “Then stop being scared.”

Nadia: “I’m not scared.”

Alex: “You’re shaking.”

She was. He wasn’t wrong.

He dropped to his knees in the shower. The water hit his back. He looked up at her.

Alex: “I’m going to make you forget why you were scared.”

Nadia: “Alex, we just , “

Alex: “I know.”

He put his mouth on her again.

She grabbed the shower handle. Her head fell back against the tile. The water ran over her face, her closed eyes, her open mouth.

Alex: “You taste like us. Like me and you mixed together. I love that.”

Nadia: “You love , “

Alex: “I didn’t say love. I said I love the taste. Don’t put words in my mouth. I already have something in my mouth.”

She laughed. Then he did something with his tongue and she stopped laughing.

Alex: “Cum again. Right here. Right now.”

Nadia: “I can’t , “

Alex: “You can.”

He slid two fingers inside her. Curled them. Sucked her clit. The water. The steam. His mouth. Her legs gave out. He held her up with his other hand on her thigh.

She came screaming his name into the wet air.

Nadia: “Alex , Alex , Alex , “

He kissed her thigh. Her hip. Her belly. Then he stood up and kissed her mouth.

Alex: “See? You’re still alive.”

She was. She really was.

Part Six: The Morning

The sun came through her bedroom curtains .

Nadia woke up first. She always woke up first. Old habit. Her body didn’t believe in sleeping in.

Alex was still asleep beside her.

She watched him. His face was younger in sleep. Softer. No smirk. No clever lines. Just a boy , no, a man , with his dark hair falling over his forehead and his hand casually draped over her hip like he owned it.

He didn’t. But she was starting to think maybe he should.

She slipped out of bed. Quiet. Her feet on the cold hardwood. She put on his t-shirt from last night , the one he had thrown on her floor. It smelled like him. Clean and warm and something she couldn’t name.

She went to the kitchen.

The risotto was still in the pot. Cold. Solid. Unsalvageable. She scraped it into the trash and put the pot in the sink. Then she started eggs. Bacon. Coffee.

She was halfway through scrambling when she heard him.

Alex: “You’re cooking again.”

She turned. He stood in the doorway. Naked. Not even trying to cover himself. His body was lean and hard and she had seen every inch of it two months ago but she was still staring.

Nadia: “You’re naked.”

Alex: “You’re wearing my shirt.”

Nadia: “It was on the floor.”

Alex: “So was I. You didn’t put me on.”

Nadia: “You’re not a shirt.”

Alex: “I could be.”

She laughed. She hated how easily he made her laugh.

Alex: “You didn’t wake me.”

Nadia: “You looked peaceful.”

Alex: “I was having a dream about you.”

Nadia: “Was it good?”

Alex: “You were riding me. In your office. On your desk. Janet from HR walked in and you didn’t stop.”

Nadia: “That’s a nightmare.”

Alex: “Not for me.”

He crossed the kitchen. The same kitchen. The same tile. The same counter where he had fucked her last night. He came up behind her while she stood at the stove.

His chest pressed against her back. His hands landed on her hips.

Nadia: “Alex. It’s morning.”

Alex: “I know.”

Nadia: “I’m making breakfast.”

Alex: “I can see that.”

Nadia: “The eggs will burn.”

Alex: “Then they’ll burn.”

Nadia: “You said that last night about the risotto.”

Alex: “And I was right. The risotto burned. I still got to eat.”

His hands slid up. Cupped her breasts through his own t-shirt. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He knew.

Alex: “No bra.”

Nadia: “I’m in my own kitchen.”

Alex: “You’re in my shirt in your kitchen.”

Nadia: “Same thing.”

Alex: “No. It means you want me to wake up and see you like this.”

She didn’t deny it.

His fingers found her nipples. She was already hard. Already wet. Her body had no shame around him anymore.

Nadia: “Alex, I’m serious. The eggs.”

Alex: “Turn off the stove.”

Nadia: “You’re insatiable.”

Alex: “You made me this way.”

She turned off the stove.

The eggs would be fine. Or they wouldn’t. She didn’t care.

She turned around in his arms. His cock was hard against her thigh. She reached down and wrapped her hand around him. He hissed through his teeth.

Nadia: “You want breakfast?”

Alex: “I want you.”

Nadia: “You had me last night. And in the shower.”

Alex: “That was hours ago. I’m young. I recover fast.”

Nadia: “That’s very convenient for you.”

Alex: “It’s very convenient for you too.”

He lifted her onto the counter. Again. The same counter. She laughed.

Nadia: “This counter is going to need therapy.”

Alex: “I’ll buy you a new counter.”

Nadia: “You’re an intern. You can’t afford a new counter.”

Alex: “Then I’ll build you one.”

She kissed him. He kissed her back. His hands under the shirt. Her legs around his waist.

Alex: “You’re sure?”

Nadia: “About what?”

Alex: “About this. About me. About not pretending anymore.”

She looked at him. His young face. His old eyes. The way he looked at her like she was the answer to a question he had been asking his whole life.

Nadia: “I’m sure.”

Alex: “Good.”

He pushed inside her. Slow this time. Morning slow. The sun coming through the window. The smell of half-cooked eggs in the air.

She held his face in her hands.

Nadia: “This doesn’t mean you can slack off at work.”

Alex: “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Nadia: “And you’re still bringing me coffee.”

Alex: “Black, one sugar.”

Nadia: “Good boy.”

Alex: “Don’t call me that.”

Nadia: “Why?”

Alex: “Because I’m not going to be gentle.”

He wasn’t.

The eggs went cold. The coffee finished brewing and nobody poured a cup. The sun got higher and the kitchen got hotter and Nadia came twice more before she let him pull out.

Afterward, they sat on the floor. Same spot as last night. She had his shirt. He had nothing. She handed him a mug of cold coffee.

Alex: “This is cold.”

Nadia: “You let the eggs burn.”

Alex: “You let me fuck you on the counter again.”

Nadia: “We’re both to blame.”

He took a sip of the cold coffee. Didn’t complain.

Alex: “I meant what I said. About not going anywhere.”

Nadia: “I know.”

Alex: “Do you believe me?”

She looked at him. Really looked. The scar above his eyebrow. The way he held his coffee mug with both hands like a kid. The way he had taken her apart three times in twelve hours.

Nadia: “I’m starting to.”

Alex: “Good. Because I’m not leaving. Not tomorrow. Not when the internship ends. Not ever, if you’ll let me stay.”

Her throat tightened.

Nadia: “That’s a big promise for a twenty-two-year-old.”

Alex: “Then I’ll spend the next fifty years proving it.”

She put down her coffee. Crawled into his lap. Wrapped her arms around his neck.

Nadia: “Fifty years?”

Alex: “Minimum.”

Nadia: “You’ll be seventy-two.”

Alex: “And you’ll be eighty-seven. And I’ll still be fucking you on this counter.”

She laughed. Then she cried. Just a little. Just one tear that he wiped away with his thumb.

Alex: “Hey. No crying.”

Nadia: “I’m not crying.”

Alex: “Your face is wet.”

Nadia: “That’s from earlier.”

Alex: “That was hours ago.”

Nadia: “I’m a messy person, Alex. You should know that by now.”

He kissed her forehead.

Alex: “I like messy.”

Nadia: “You’re weird.”

Alex: “You like it.”

He was right. She did.

They ate cold eggs standing at the counter. Naked. Laughing. She burned her mouth on coffee that was somehow both cold and too hot.

Alex: “So. Same time tomorrow?”

Nadia: “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

Alex: “What a way to go.”

She threw a piece of bacon at him. He caught it in his mouth.

Alex: “I have skills.”

Nadia: “You have a lot of things.”

Alex: “Like you.”

Nadia: “Like me.”

He grabbed her hand. Kissed her knuckles.

Alex: “I’m not going to the office today.”

Nadia: “You have to. There’s a meeting at ten.”

Alex: “You’re the boss. Cancel it.”

Nadia: “I can’t just cancel a meeting because I want to keep fucking my intern.”

Alex: “You can. You just won’t.”

Nadia: “I’m a professional.”

Alex: “You’re a professional who screamed my name so loud last night the neighbor texted you.”

She froze.

Nadia: “What?”

Alex: “Your phone buzzed. Around midnight. I saw it on the counter.”

She grabbed her phone. One text from her neighbor, Karen:

“Sounds like dinner was good. 😉”

Nadia buried her face in her hands.

Nadia: “I’m moving.”

Alex: “I’ll help you pack.”

Nadia: “This is your fault.”

Alex: “You’re welcome.”

She looked at him. His naked body. His stupid grin. His young face and his old eyes.

Nadia: “I’m not going to the meeting.”

Alex: “Good.”

Nadia: “But you’re making lunch.”

Alex: “I can’t cook.”

Nadia: “Then you’ll learn.”

Alex: “Yes, ma’am.”

Nadia: “Don’t call me ma’am.”

Alex: “Yes, boss.”

She kissed him. The eggs were cold. The kitchen was a disaster. Her neighbor thought she was a porn star.

She didn’t care.

For the first time in two years, Nadia wasn’t fine.

She was happy.

THE END

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