"You're not eating that?" Red's voice dripped with disdain from across the office lounge.
Lizzie looked up from the counter where she had just removed a bowl of ramen noodles from the microwave. "I most certainly am," she answered matter-of-factly.
"Really, Lizzie, that can't even be considered food."
"I happen to have an affinity for them," she replied airily. "They remind me of college and living on my student loan money." She pulled off the lid and stirred the noodles absently. "Which, come to think of it, isn't all that different from living on a government worker's salary."
With a sigh of resignation, Lizzie carried her lunch to the stained formica table where Red sat sipping his expensive coffee and poring over the New York Times.
"Oh, I think we can do much better than that." Red's voice was thick as honey, forcing an involuntary shiver to run up her spine.
Her spoon froze halfway to her mouth, hanging as if suspended by an invisible wire. She stared at him wide-eyed.
"Oh-oh, yeah?" she stammered, breathless.
This seductive side of Red was unexpected. She had grown used to seeing him carefully suppress the heat in his eyes whenever he looked at her, ever since the King's auction. She had given up on him ever making a move.
"Oh, yes," he drawled, leaning into her from across the table. "You can't imagine…" he trailed off teasingly. "The things I'd like to see you put into your mouth."
All the air left her body in a whoosh and her mouth dropped open in surprise.
He continued, "And feel sliding down your throat…"
Red touched her arm and Lizzie jumped. She felt the bottom drop out of her stomach at his brazen suggestion. She heard a little, half-strangled sound a realized dimly that it was coming from her.
He leaned in closer to her and his thumb stroked lazily over her arm. "You have no idea…"
Distantly, she heard her spoon clatter to the floor as she lost control of her fine motor skills. The hypnotic timbre of his voice made her lean into him as well.
"Oh, relax," Samar's voice abruptly cut through the fog of Lizzie's mind as she crossed to the coffeemaker. "He's talking about oysters."
