Five

Few minutes later, I heard footsteps approaching; they were so refined and graceful that it made my heart beats rhyme with every sound that arouses my deepest desires. I could tell my face had already turned red without me looking at the mirror. I stood immediately as I saw him. Those lips again, they are making me crazy. Even his eyes are making me lose my mind. I pressed my lips tightly to avoid saying what was hidden in my mind. My heart yearns for him that there's no turning back for me. This is the man I love and will always love. I promised to always try by any means to make him love me back.

He came closer, and I did the same. I really want his hot breath on my face, my neck, my body, and everything in my possession. His gaze fell on me, and my brain released the bind and unleashed me with no restraint. I did a small leap, and my body fell towards him as I tripped, almost falling before he caught me, holding my waist, and finally those hot breaths graced my skin. His face was so close to mine that our lips almost touched. I was trying my possible best not to release the bind again, or I might kiss him without thinking twice. Those mesmerizing eyes traveled to my legs; I want him to look at those exposed thighs, that's the reason it's been exposed. Damn it, I'm losing it; he is making me run mad with want. He returned his gaze to my face, and he suddenly released me. Ouch! I fell hard on the floor; my buttocks collided with the marble floor, and I held my lips from screaming.

He was hesitant to give me a hand after what happened a moment ago. It was kind of awkward to him, but not to me because I enjoyed those few seconds in his arms.

"What happened to your foot that made you trip?" He asked, and I could see concern written all over his face. I snapped out of it; I had enough fun for one day. I stood ready to explain my behavior.

"I, um... My... um... um..." I scratched my head and asked, pointing downwards. "What is it called again?"

"Slippers," he replied as he crossed his arms and bit his lip.

'THIS MAN IS TEMPTING ME!' I screamed inside my head; he had no idea how his small actions were affecting me. What does he have to do that he is driving me insane, for God's sake! Those lips have the ability to invade my thoughts. I want those lips more than anything.

"Sarah, are you okay?" He asked as he came closer.

"I'm definitely not fine." I said that without thinking and immediately pressed my lips.

"What's wrong?" He asked again; Oh no, I might do something crazy if he doesn't stop.

"Don't mind me, I twisted my toes and that's the reason I tripped." It was the truth, though I did it on purpose.

"What are you wearing?" He gave me a profound look, and I smiled inwardly. I hope he liked what he saw. Sh*t! I need to also find an explanation for my dress.

"Well, I just..."

"Party," his lips curled as he looked at me.

My eyes shimmered when I heard him; he just saved me the explanation.

He shook his head and walked away; I followed him, and to my surprise, he continued walking past the dining table. 'WHAT! HE IS GOING TO HIS ROOM?'

"Mr. Clinton, won't you have dinner?" He glanced at the dining table and looked at me.

"Why did you go through so much trouble to make me dinner?"

I'm confused, why did he say that? I smiled, "Because I always cook for father and I thought I should do the same for you; I could be your personal cook." I winked.

"Oh, I'm sorry; I...um... I usually eat out so I am already full."

'What!' I blinked and clutched my chest; I could feel it, the sound of my heart breaking in disappointment. It was shattering into pieces, digesting his response. Why did he say that? Why did he even eat out, huh? I made sure to prepare a meal that would make him end up licking his plate, but now he is saying what?

"Sarah, are you feeling okay?" He held my shoulders with his two hands, looking into my eyes for an answer, and my eyes told him, 'No, I'm not okay.'

"Mr.... Clinton... why did you eat outside? You shouldn't have... now who's going to eat all of my hard work...?" I managed to reply, still clutching my chest.

My response made him burst into laughter. He laughed for over one minute, and I was stunned by the sound of his laughter. 'How could one man be so perfect?' I looked at him with dreamy eyes while he continued laughing.

"Oh, Sarah, you are such a drama queen. You made me laugh after a long time. Okay, fine, I'll have a bite."

"Yeah!" I jumped like a child in kindergarten, flinging my hair. He couldn't help but smile at me. I was truly entertaining him. He sat, and I sat beside him. I don't want to miss his facial expression after one bite of my food.

There he goes, one bite in his mouth, he paused, and my heart raced. 'Didn't he like it? Please like it, please like it, please like it, please like it,' I repeated in my head until he finally swallowed.

"You are such a good cook." He just praised me, I blushed.

"Stop it, Mr. Clinton; you are making me blush." He chuckled at my reply and said. "Your father never told me you were this silly; he keeps saying you are a fragile egg that needs care. I can't believe he missed such an important detail."

I smiled inwardly; 'I think we are getting along really well, with time I could make him fond of me, then before falling for me.'

His bite progressed to two bites, and then it moved into the next many more bites. I knew he enjoyed it; he even licked his lips again, and I almost fainted.

"I'm going to bed; you get some sleep too." He said before standing up. "And thanks for the meal; it has been long since I ate homemade food."

"Don't worry, Mr. Clinton, I'll keep making you delicious breakfast, lunch, and dinner; after all, I'm your personal cook." I grinned, and he chuckled.

"Fine."

I suppressed my grinning when I heard him. He just agreed; well, what they say is true then, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.