Chapter 215
**Sara**
Instead of getting dressed properly, I swiped one of his crisp white dress shirts from his closet. The fabric felt sinfully soft against my still-damp skin as I buttoned just enough buttons to keep things interesting.
The smell of coffee lured me to the kitchen, where Tom stood at the stove, wearing only low-slung sweatpants. My mouth watered, and not just from the food aromas.
"That's my shirt." He didn't turn around, but I could hear the smile in his voice.
"Really? I had no idea." I hopped onto the counter beside him, letting the shirt ride up my thighs. "Want it back?"
His spatula paused mid-flip. "You're going to make me burn these eggs."
"Would be a shame." I swung my legs, deliberately brushing against his hip. "Though I can think of better things to eat."
"Insatiable." He reached over with his free hand, sliding it under the shirt to squeeze my thigh. "Some of us need actual sustenance."
"Boring." I stole a piece of bacon from the plate beside me, crunching it loudly.
"That was for the eggs." He tried to sound stern but failed miserably.
"Oops." I licked my fingers slowly, making sure he watched every movement. "My bad."
His eyes tracked my tongue. "You're playing with fire."
"Good thing you've got that fancy sprinkler system then." I grinned, remembering our shower adventures.
He groaned. "The eggs, Sara. Let me finish the eggs."
"Fine." I sighed dramatically. "But only because I'm actually starving."
"Wonder why." His hand squeezed my thigh again before returning to cooking.
I watched him work, admiring how his muscles moved under his skin. The man could make even scrambled eggs look sexy. Maybe that was just my thoroughly satisfied hormones talking.
"Stop staring at me like that."
"Like what?" I batted my eyelashes innocently.
"Like you're planning to devour me instead of breakfast."
"Can't I do both?"
The eggs sizzled as he shook his head, laughing.
I stole another piece of bacon just because I could.
Tom's eyes narrowed, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. "You're pushing it, Sara."
I grinned, biting into the crispy strip with exaggerated pleasure. "Mmm, so good. Sure you don't want some?"
"I would if someone wasn't eating it all."
"Your fault for making it so delicious." I swung my legs, deliberately brushing against his hip. "Besides, I need to replenish my energy after that shower."
Tom snorted, plating the eggs. "Right, because you did all the work there."
"Excuse me? That was an Olympic-level performance."
He laughed. "Olympic-level performance in what, exactly?"
"Oral gymnastics, obviously." I winked, snagging another piece of bacon.
Tom's hand caught mine in mid-air. "That's it. No more bacon for you."
I pouted, giving him my best puppy dog eyes. "But I'm a growing girl."
"The only thing growing is your ego." He set the plate of eggs on the counter next to me, deliberately out of reach. "Now, are you going to behave and eat a proper breakfast, or do I need to teach you a lesson?"
"Depends. What kind of lesson did you have in mind, Professor?"
He stepped between my legs, his hands resting on my thighs. "One that involves you learning to follow instructions."
I leaned in, my lips barely brushing his. "But where's the fun in that?"
Tom's fingers tightened on my thighs. "Oh, I think you'd find it very educational."
As things heated up again, my stomach let out an embarrassingly loud growl. We both burst into laughter, the tension broken.
"Alright, alright," Tom conceded, stepping back. "Food first, then we'll see about that lesson."
I hopped off the counter, grabbing plates and forks. "Fine, but I reserve the right to be a difficult student."
"Wouldn't expect anything less." He swatted my ass as I passed, making me yelp.
I spun around, pointing my fork at him accusingly. "That's assault with a deadly weapon, Professor."
"A hand is not a deadly weapon." He reached for the coffee pot, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
"Tell that to my poor, abused behind." I rubbed my backside dramatically, making him roll his eyes.
We settled at his ridiculously expensive dining table, the morning sun streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. The view of the city was breathtaking, but I was more interested in the feast before me. My stomach growled again.
"Someone's eager," Tom smirked over his coffee cup.
I shoveled a forkful of eggs into my mouth. "Hey, try working up an appetite like that and see how you feel."
"I did, if you recall. I was there."
"Were you? Must not have been memorable enough." I winked, dodging his retaliatory kick under the table.
"That's not what you were screaming earlier."
I choked on my coffee. "I do not scream."
"The neighbors might disagree."
I rolled my eyes at his smug expression. "Oh please, these walls are too thick for any sound to escape. You're just trying to get under my skin."
"Actually..." Tom took a slow sip of his coffee, dragging out the moment. "The whole apartment is completely soundproof. State-of-the-art sound insulation. Every wall, floor, and ceiling."
I narrowed my eyes at him over my coffee cup. "Why exactly would you need a soundproof apartment?"
"Privacy." His lips curved into that infuriating smirk. "Plus, it helps when I have particularly vocal students."
"I am not vocal." I stabbed my fork into the eggs with more force than necessary.
"Sara, darling, you practically shattered glass in the shower."
Heat crept up my neck. "That was... I was just... shut up."
"Very eloquent." He reached across the table to steal a piece of my bacon. "I thought you were supposed to be good with words."
I swatted his hand away. "Touch my bacon again, and you'll find out how vocal I can be. And not in a fun way."
"Threats before noon? I'm wounded."
"You'll survive." I took a deliberate bite of the contested bacon. "I have to ask - did you soundproof this place specifically for your extracurricular activities?"
"Actually, it came this way. Though I can't say, I haven't appreciated the feature."
"Mhm." I twirled my fork thoughtfully. "And how many students have gotten to test out this feature?"
His expression shifted, becoming more serious. "None. You're the first person I've brought here in a while."
"Oh." Something warm bloomed in my chest that had nothing to do with the coffee.
"Don't let it go to your head." But his eyes were soft as they met mine.
"Too late." I grinned, breaking the moment before it got too heavy. "I'm already planning ways to test these supposedly soundproof walls."
"Is that so?"
"Mmm." I stretched deliberately, letting his shirt ride up. "But first, I need to make a very important phone call."
"Now?"
"Yes, now. I need to call Claire about that offer letter." I dabbed my lips with a napkin, trying not to look too smug. "You know since I only got that confirmation email about starting Monday. Need to check about the salary details, position, all that fun stuff."
His eyes narrowed. "This is about the bet, isn't it?"
"Maybe." I gathered our empty plates, stacking them neatly. "Technically, you're right - I don't have an official offer letter yet. So the bet's still open."
"You're evil."
"No, I'm thorough." I stood up, plates in hand. "And once I get that letter, you'll start your month of celibacy. Better make the most of the time you have left."
"You're enjoying this way too much."
"Obviously." I turned toward the kitchen, but his arm snaked around my waist, pulling me onto his lap. The plates clattered but somehow didn't break.
"Tom!" I squealed, trying to balance the dishes. "These probably cost more than my rent."
"They're just plates." His lips found my neck. "The bet's not over yet."
I squirmed, attempting to maintain some semblance of dignity while perched on his lap in nothing but his shirt. "The plates, Tom. Let me at least put them in the kitchen."
"The plates can wait." His teeth grazed my earlobe. "The bet, however..."
"Nice try." I managed to twist away, plates still miraculously intact. "But I'm calling Claire. Can't have you claiming any technicalities when I win."
His groan of frustration followed me to the kitchen. "You're killing me."
"Death by anticipation." I placed the plates in the sink. "How tragic."
"I could make it worth your while to delay that call."
I laughed, leaning against the counter. "Are you trying to bribe me?"
"Is it working?"
"Not even close." I pulled out my phone. "Now shush, I'm calling Claire."
His head thunked against the back of the chair. "You're going to be the death of me."
"Drama queen." I stuck my tongue out at him as I dialed Claire's number.