A Chocolaty Experience

"I want those chocolate ones." The middle-aged woman pointed at the general direction of fifty different displays of chocolate confectionaries. Rose exhaled and rubbed the bridge of her nose for the hundredth time that day. She'd had a trying day and she just wanted to get home and sleep. Be calm, she told herself, she's a customer... and also murder is illegal. Rose forced a smile, "You'll have to be a little more specific, ma'am." To her bemusement, the woman looked at her with... pity?. She pointed at the display case and repeated slightly louder and slower, "I WANT THOSE CHOCOLATE ONES!" Rose wanted to scream. But everything is chocolate, you moron! You're in a fucking chocolaterie!

The woman didn't seem to notice the fact that the young chocolatier was going redder and redder in the face and continued to explain what she meant by "chocolate ones". Rose was a second away from strangling her when the shop doors tinkled open and a customer entered.

At first, Rose didn't see him. He brought in a strong scent of rain with him along with a strong gust of wind. The woman shivered slightly at the sudden cold, "Oh dear, is it raining outside?" Really rain, how rude, snapped Rose in her head, you're supposed to rain inside, you fucking imbecile.

The silence and deep chuckle after this thought made her stop in her tracks. She couldn't possibly have said it aloud, could she? Her hands automatically covered her mouth and her eyes widened in fear. Of course, word vomit had to strike now of all times!

But it turned out, it was silent because her new customer had spoken too softly for her to hear and the chuckle had come from him when the woman had asked him if he was a model.

"No ma'am, I am not. But I am flattered." His voice was deep and soft. Gentle, even. It made Rose wonder what he sounded like when he was mad.... or excited. She assessed this stranger as she did with every other customer. He was well over 6 feet tall. Broad shoulders and wide chest tapered down to a slim waist and hips, like a fig leaf. His black jacket was open over a white button-down that was unbuttoned at the collar, showing off pale smooth skin.

He had a strong jaw lined with stubble and sharp features. Slightly damp, dark hair brushed his shoulders. Piercing dark eyes stared at her with a burning intensity that threw her off for a bit. Why was he staring at her so intensely? Slightly uncomfortable, she looked away from his eyes. She busied herself with packing a chocolate eclair for the older woman. She still felt the stranger's gaze on her back, which made her shiver. It wasn't unusual for men to stare at her, but it was usually mild interest, desire, or plain lust. However... this man was making her feel like he was dragging an ice cube down her back. With his eyes!

"Your order, ma'am." Rose quickly shoved a glossy white paper bag at the woman, desperate to attend to her last order for the day and get home.

"Thank you, dear. I knew you had it in you." Smiled the woman genially and placed a ten dollar bill on the counter. "Good luck, dear!"

Rose's face must have been a sight, since the man let out a barely muffled snicker. She glared at the woman's retreating figure, waiting for her to disappear before muttering, "I'll sure need the luck to deal with the likes of you..." The man laughed aloud.

"You're a funny one." His lips stretched into a slow, beautiful smile. Rose was dumbstruck by how beautiful he looked when he smiled. It felt like he was beaming when his smile didn't even reach his eyes. That seemed to be the effect of someone who didn't smile very often.

Not wanting to come off as retarded again, Rose cleared her throat and racked her brains for a witty response.

"So I've been told." She mentally slapped herself. That was all she could come up with?

"The funniest people can make others laugh with only a few words." He advised, amused. She narrowed her eyes at him, "Thanks. That really boosted my self-esteem. Now, what can I get you?" He slowly walked towards the glass display, behind which Rose stood. He moved so gracefully, it was almost like he glided across the floor. As he approached, she felt goosebumps erupt on her skin. He assessed every item on display intently. His gaze was so scrutinizing, Rose felt nervous about her chocolate-making skills. What if this beautiful man didn't like her creations? It seemed like her world would crash around her and life wouldn't mean anything anymore.

The man's expression gave nothing away. He carefully scrutinized everything left on display and after what felt like eternity, he looked up at her.

Nothing could have prepared her for what he said next.

"I want to see your kitchen."

Rose knew she had heard him right, but her mouth still formed the words, "I'm sorry?" His smile grew slightly feral. The shivers down her spine turned into clawed hands dragging down her back. His eyes took in her nervous form, looking for fear. Rose didn't necessarily feel afraid, but she was unsure of the whole situation, which made her unable to react suitably.

His order was almost a purr, "Show me your kitchen, Rose." She didn't even bother to ask how he knew her name. She guessed he would either not give her an answer, or he would tell her something along the lines of the famous, "I know a lot about you."

He grinned, showing off sharp canines, "Good girl." Rose's mouth fell open. "You can read my mind?" She quickly amended herself when he raised an eyebrow, "Why was that even a question. Because of course, you can."

Unable to look into his overly intense eyes anymore, she turned around, "Well, since you insist...." She opened the door to her kitchen slowly, "Here's my very unremarkable kitchen."

She entered the unlit room. Before she could switch the lights on, a soft, hypnotic voice purred at her shoulder, warm breath cascading down her already heated skin.

"You smell like my favourite sweet, Rose."