Behind Closed doors

Chapter 9

Lauren pulled back slightly, her gaze intense but with a hint of amusement. "So, have you eaten?" she asked, her voice casual as if they hadn't just been tangled up in a heated moment.

Kamala blinked, her brows furrowing in confusion. She had been expecting something entirely different. "Uh, no... just a small sandwich between reviewing documents," she replied, still catching her breath, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Lauren smirked and stepped back, loosening her grip on Kamala. "Good. I've made us dinner."

Kamala raised an eyebrow, the tension easing into surprise. "You cook?"

Lauren chuckled, walking toward the kitchen. "Well, yes. I'm no gourmet chef, but I made Alfredo pasta, and there's German chocolate cake for dessert, your favorite."

Kamala's surprise quickly melted into a wide, almost giddy smile. She found herself grinning like a teenager, charmed by this domestic side of Lauren. This was a side she hadn't expected.

As Lauren set the table, Kamala took the opportunity to glance around the apartment. It was modest but warm, with personal touches everywhere. There were framed photos on a shelf—some of Lauren alone and others with an older woman who looked like her. Kamala assumed it was her mother. In one corner, she noticed a small bundle of fur curled up on a cushion, a sleeping cat with a white patch on its nose.

"I didn't know you had a cat," Kamala said softly, crouching down to take a closer look.

Lauren glanced over her shoulder, smiling as she saw Kamala's attention shift. "That's Mrs. Whiskerson. And yeah, there's a lot you don't know about me, Kamala."

Kamala reached out and gently stroked the cat's fur. "I guess I'm learning," she murmured with a playful grin.

Lauren finished setting the table and waved Kamala over. "Come on, before the pasta gets cold."

Kamala stood up and joined her, feeling an odd mix of warmth and excitement. As they sat down, she found herself glancing at Lauren, taking in this softer, more relaxed side of the woman who had always been so composed and commanding.

"So," Kamala began, swirling the creamy Alfredo on her fork, "is this part of your plan to impress me? Lure me in with food and...?"

Lauren smirked, her gaze playful. "Maybe. Or maybe I just want to feed you. Can't have the President of the United States starving."

Kamala laughed, the sound light and free. "You're full of surprises."

As they ate, the tension that had once filled the air shifted into something more comfortable, more intimate. They talked about little things—work, funny stories, even Kamala's hectic day. It was easy, effortless in a way that caught Kamala off guard. Being with Lauren like this felt... right.

After dinner, Lauren disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with a slice of the cake. She set it in front of Kamala with a satisfied grin. "To share."

Kamala smiled, picking up her fork. "You really thought of everything."

Lauren shrugged, leaning back in her chair. "I told you, I knew you'd come."

Kamala's fork hovered over the chocolate cake, but her gaze remained fixed on Lauren. "Why were you so sure?" she asked, her voice soft but curious.

Lauren's grin widened, and she leaned forward, giving Kamala a once-over. "Come on, have you seen this?" She gestured playfully to her body, her confidence filling the room. The tension between them thickened instantly, an undeniable pull sparking between them.

Kamala chuckled, her eyes darkening with desire. "She's also humble," she teased, before leaning in. The kiss was fierce, passionate, and needy. Their lips moved together with an urgency that had been building for what felt like forever.