Trick or Treat (Silver Spoon Connections)

5. Kat

Chapter 5

Kat

Saturday morning finds me in full-blown cleanup mode, fueled by caffeine and sheer determination. I’ve got my go-to playlist of cheesy 80s hits blaring through the small house while I tackle the clutter that’s accumulated. It’s amazing how messy a place can get when you’re too busy daydreaming about handsome bartenders and speakeasy escapades to put things back where they belong.

Walter, my trusty feline companion, is curled up on the couch, eyes half-open, monitoring my every move like a foreman disapproving of my cleaning techniques. He doesn’t offer to help, of course. Instead, he stretches languidly, as if to remind me that cleaning is beneath him and I'm on my own.

“Fine, be that way,” I grumble at him, dusting a shelf with more vigor than necessary. “You could at least try to act like you’re cheering me on.”

Walter closes his eyes, clearly unconvinced by my attempt to guilt-trip him. Not that I blame him. I’m pretty sure I’d be lounging around, too, if my sole responsibilities were looking adorable and occasionally batting at the odd dust bunny.

Amidst the cleaning frenzy, my phone rings from somewhere under a pile of discarded outfits. I sift through the fabric chaos, flinging a sequined top over my shoulder and sniffing out the source of the annoying ringtone. I finally grab my phone, see Cassidy’s name flashing on the screen, and hit the answer button.

“Cass,” I start, breathless from battling with last night’s impulse to try on every piece of clothing I own, “What do you want this time?” My mother hen bestie has already called three times to check on my progress.

“Don’t be so difficult. I was just calling to see if you haven’t gotten cold feet about tonight,” Cassidy chirps, her voice as upbeat and teasing as always.

“Of course not,” I say, plopping down onto the couch next to Walter, who scootches slightly to the left, putting some space between us. “I’m just making sure this place doesn’t look like a tornado hit it when Tony comes by.”

“I’m glad you aren’t pulling your usual I don’t have time to date anyone bull hockey,” she replies, her tone laced with knowing amusement.

I roll my eyes, even though she can’t see me. “I don’t have time to date,” I insist, “but there’s no way I can resist Tony.”

“Aww, my little Kat is growing up.” I roll my eyes at her motherly tone. “Do you have a game plan for the date?”

“Game plan?” I raise an eyebrow, leaning back into the cushions. “This isn’t a football game, Cass.”

“You never know, you could try tackling Mr. Tall, Dark, and Devilish and see what happens.”

“Not going to happen.” I cross my fingers behind my back as I fib, knowing jumping his bones is high on my to-do list.

“You can lead a horse to water,” Cass grumbles teasingly. “I guess as your self-appointed dating coach, I’ll have to work with what I’ve got,” she continues, undeterred. “I wanted to remind you to take care of some essentials. You know, like buffing, brushing, and shaving all the necessary parts?”

I laugh, adjusting my position, which earns me a mildly irritated glance from Walter. “Yes, Coach Cass, I remember. Anything else on this checklist of yours?”

“Just remember to have fun, be yourself, and stay cool. I’ll be lurking in spirit, taking notes for your post-date debrief.”

“Oh, goody, can’t wait for my grade.” I smirk, then glance at Walter, who’s starting to look a bit peeved at our lengthy conversation. “I’m sure I’ll ace it.”

After hanging up, I set the phone aside and get back to work, moving at a pace that’s less frantic now and more purposeful. Walter periodically meows his disapproval, mainly when I block his view of the squirrels fighting on the back patio.

Eventually, I manage to wrestle the house into a state of presentability, a zenith of cleanliness Walter can only disdainfully ignore from his napping perch.

With the crisis averted, I take a shower and do a series of thorough inspections to ensure my body is buffed, shaved, and ready for action so I don’t let Cassidy down on my first outing as her official romantic “pupil.”

The bathroom steams up nicely, making me feel more relaxed and ready to tackle whatever the night might throw my way. Determined, I practice a few winning smiles in the mirror, touching up my makeup with a degree of precision that would make a surgeon proud.

It’s not long before I’m pulling on my favorite pair of jeans and a top that’s casual yet enticing. I add a swipe of my signature lip gloss, just a hint of shimmer to keep things interesting.

“You could be just a little more supportive,” I say to Walter, who yawns as if to say my transformation efforts haven’t been worth losing sleep over.

I’m just finishing the final touches on my eyeliner when I hear a knock at the door. My heart skips a beat. I don’t just have butterflies in my tummy; I have a whole butterfly aviary fluttering around in there.

I walk to the door, taking one last deep breath before pulling it open to find Tony standing there with that irresistible grin on his handsome face, holding a pizza box in one hand and a brightly colored cat toy in the other. “Hello, kitty.” He gives me a kiss on the lips before I step back for him to follow me into the small house.

“Hi,” I say as the smell of the pepperoni pizza wafts toward me, causing my tummy to growl.

“I hope this is an appropriate peace offering for King Walter.” He lifts the little mouse toy attached to a wand, and Walter emerges from his usual lair with surprising interest, ears perked and eyes locked on his new quarry.

“That’s perfect,” I say, feeling a warm bubble of happiness growing deep inside me.

“I aim to please,” Tony responds, setting the pizza box down on the table while expertly managing the cat toy, making it dance for Walter, who I swear is considering defecting loyalties.

I grab plates and napkins for us while Tony coaxes Walter into a play session emblazoned with leaps and pounces that remind me just how graceful cats can pretend not to be.

“Well, tonight’s off to a great start,” I note, leaning against the counter, enjoying the scene. “Pizza and cat approval. You managed to pull off another terrific date.”

Tony laughs, waving the cat wand as Walter paws and stalks with gleeful determination. “I’m glad you approve.”

We settle into my small living room, which is just intimate enough to make me feel cozy and connected. Tony sits next to me on the sofa, and Walter, slightly out of breath from his toy pursuit, sprawls beside Tony, purring in what I could almost describe as contentment.

The pizza is piping hot when I crack open the box, steam rising gently and prompting instant, ravenous hunger.

“Oh wow, it’s my favorite!” I exclaim, surprised to find that he’s brought my favorite pizza—half pepperoni, half Margherita.

“A little birdy gave me some helpful insight,” Tony admits, his grin wide and charming. “Now, I owe her an invitation to Scared Shotless.”

“Cass will be so excited. She’s been dying to try it out.”

We dig in, enjoying the combination of flavors and falling into this effortless rhythm of conversation and munching. Our chatter ranges from lighthearted to teasing to hilariously offbeat. Tony has this way of throwing out witty little zingers at the end of his sentences that make me laugh and add momentum to our banter.

“So, what else do you like to do on a typical night?” Tony asks, passing me a napkin.

“Other than playing with my spoiled cat and enjoying impromptu pizza dinners with charming company?” I pretend to ponder this, deliberating exaggeratedly. “Well, I’ve got a soft spot for binge-watching terrible reality TV and true crime shows.”

“Ah, a connoisseur of culture,” he teases, taking another bite. “What’s your guilty pleasure reality show?”

“Oh, definitely ‘Baking Showdowns,’” I reveal with a theatrical flair. “It’s less about baking skills and more about the chaotic, frantic energy of burnt cookies and failed desserts. It reminds me of a typical day at work.” I roll my eyes dramatically.

He chuckles at this and leans over to wipe a spot off my cheek with his napkin. The intimacy of the act causes my heart to flutter in my chest.

While we devour the entire pizza, Walter lies beside us batting at his new toy with sustained laziness, clearly loving Tony’s presence as much as I am.

After we’ve cleared away dinner, we settle back onto the sofa, and Tony pulls me against his side. Walter curls up on his other side and starts purring loudly as we search for an appropriately scary movie to watch.

As the killer moves from victim to victim on the screen, Tony’s thumb rubs small circles on the sensitive skin on the back of my hand, creating tiny electric sparks with every caress. Cass’s earlier recommendations flash through my mind, and I decide my friend is right—it’s time for me to make a move on Mr. Tall, Dark, and Devilish.

I lay my head on his shoulder and glance up to meet his gaze. My heart thuds steadily as I watch flames of hunger flash through his dark eyes. His eyes widen when I reach up to wrap my hand around his jaw and pull his face down for my kiss.

His lips move over mine in a perfect mix of sweetness and urgency. It's the kind of kiss that sets off fireworks in my mind and makes the world around us dissolve. All that's left is the feel of him, close, demanding in the most delicious way.

His hands slip under my T-shirt, gliding across my skin, thumb tracing lines of fire down my spine. I practically melt, my body unconsciously arching toward him. And then his fingers wrap around my hips, guiding me to straddle his lap, pulling me even closer. "I need you," he whispers, and it's like a spark that sets my pulse racing quicker than ever.

My heart thunders in my ears as I manage to murmur, "Then have me." There's nothing else but this—the soft, insistent pressure of his lips, the gentle heat of his fingers. When he shifts, kissing a path down my collarbone, my breath catches. Every kiss sends a shiver of sensation through me, and I can't help but arch against him, desperate to feel every part of him.

"You realize," he murmurs between kisses against the base of my throat, "once I have you, I'll never let you go." His words are a promise wrapped in sinful intent, his hands slipping beneath my thighs as he stands, holding me effortlessly.

Legs wrapped around his waist, I cling to him, my senses a delightful blur. "I'm not scared," I manage to say, voice shaky with anticipation as I guide him toward the hallway. "My room is the last door on the left." I lean in, pressing a kiss to his strong jawline as he carries me there, making me feel like I'm the only thing that matters.

Before I realize it, we're in my bedroom. He somehow manages to navigate my natural state of organized chaos, shutting the door behind us with a quiet, decisive click that seems to echo in the charged air.

Tony places me gently on my feet, and I almost protest the loss of his touch until he reaches down, lifting my T-shirt over my head with a deliberate slowness that sends tingling anticipation down my spine.

Inspired—or perhaps emboldened—I slide my hand past the fabric of his crisp dress shirt, seeking his length, hard and ready. A breathless bravery surges through me as I unbutton his pants and slowly pull the zipper down.

"If you keep doing that," he grunts, his voice tight with restraint, "I'm going to lose my mind." The admission sends feminine power roaring through my veins, and as I wrap my hand around him, a gentle squeeze elicits a tremor that ripples through his frame.

He guides my hand with his, showing me the rhythm he likes, and I almost lose myself in the sensation before he pulls back, his eyes smoldering with intent. "Why are you stopping?" I ask, a whole lot breathless and a little impatient, longing to continue what we've started.

"Just slowing things down a little," he says with a wink. In an effortless motion, he lifts me again, and this time, lays me back on the bed, hovering above me with an intensity that makes my heart flutter.

“I don’t want to slow down,” I protest with a pout.

"Just be patient, little kitty. I’m going to blow your mind," he promises, stepping back and dimming the lights with a quick flick of a switch. I prop myself up on my elbows, unable to look away as he slowly unbuttons his shirt to reveal a sculpted masculine physique that makes my mouth water.

My eyes trace the lines of his torso, lingering on his toned abs and the large bulge tenting the front of his dress pants. Anticipation cuts through me as he slides his pants down his muscular legs, showcasing a confidence that only amplifies his allure.

"Wow," I murmur, staring at his long, hard erection. It's hard to form words, especially when everything about him is beautifully overwhelming. "Just so you know, this is my first time."

Tony stares into my eyes, stepping forward with a look that sends a thrill up my spine. "You have no idea how happy that makes me." His expression grows serious for a beat as he settles beside me. "I’d hate to have to kill the motherfucker who dared to touch you," he warns, his voice velvety smooth and dangerously sincere. “You’re mine now, and I’m going to keep your gorgeous little ass for all eternity.”

I nod, smiling up at him because I already know, deep down, there's nowhere else I'd rather be. "I can definitely live with that."

He reaches forward to slowly slide my yoga pants down my legs. When he crawls over me and kisses me again, it's softer, deeper, his fingers dancing over my skin, igniting every nerve-ending, and fanning the flames of desire roaring between us.

The anticipation burns bright and clear, time slipping away as we lose ourselves in the connection, in the moment, until everything else is forgotten, and all that matters is the magic we create together.