Once everyone had finished unpacking for the night, I was asked—well, told—to cook dinner for the ladies. That's when it hit me: I'd never cooked for anyone else before.
Everything I'd made up until now was designed for survival. Quick, filling, high in flavor, and made to last through long workdays. When you're living alone and juggling webcomic panels, fantasy chapters, and late-night revisions, you eat to stay functional, not to impress.
But now? Cooking for women? That was a whole new pressure. It's like Home Economics class all over again, but the final project was to cook dishes for four different professors at once.
Women didn't just eat—they judged. The taste, sure, but also the presentation, the portion sizes, the calorie count, the ingredients... Would it make them feel bloated? Guilty? Or special? The idea of their stomachs stuffed with my food was as weird as it was fulfilling. All I can really put into the food was its seasonings, and the feeling of wanting to make sure they eat something good to guide me.
I ran through my mental catalog. Stir-fry? Again? Too basic. Plus, I had no clue who here was a big eater or who would quietly push food around her plate. My hands moved before my brain could settle. Gyudon. Simple, comforting, flavorful—but with enough room for flair.
I gathered what I had. Shredded cabbage, celery, and cherry tomatoes for color. A mild smoked gouda would add richness. The beef, thin-sliced and well-marbled, got seasoned with spices. Lorette had a lot of ingredients that I didn't know what to do with, so I grabbed what made sense to me. I could hear the girls' voices behind me, light and musical, drifting through the open kitchen.
I tried not to listen. I really did.
"Jona!" Yulia's voice, unmistakable, snapped me back. I was wrist-deep in rice, tossing and fluffing it.
"Yes?" I called over my shoulder. Her doe eyes full of charm struck me deep.
"You don't have a girlfriend, right?" she asked, too casually. Dangerously casually.
A chill tiptoed up my spine. It was a simple question. But surrounded by four beautiful women, it suddenly felt like a trick.
"I'm single, yeah," I replied, trying not to sound like I was bracing for impact.
Silence. Pure silence lingering for far too long.
I didn't need to turn around to feel the shift. The air was heavier, like everyone was staring. Their stillness carried weight.
I imagined a jungle. Me at the center. Four sleek leopards were watching, waiting.
"Are you seeing anyone currently?" Loretta's voice flowed in next, velvet-smooth and sharper than it let on.
I plated the beef, the scent of umami and onions saturating the air, and brought the rice cooker over. Stealing a glance netted information I wished to not be privy to; the sparkle in their eyes wasn't imagination. They were interested. All of them.
"I'm not," I answered. "But I'm also not closing myself off to anyone who might come my way." I was just being honest. No reason to lie. But even as I said it, my gaze lingered.
Yulia—eager, coy. Loretta—smirking, confident. Sky—smiling, but reserved. Natasha—composed, calculating. Every single one of them had layers upon layers of charm. On the other hand, there was I. Dull, uninteresting, calm, and stoic. Completely different compared to them. Being liked somehow not only felt undeserving but also a waste.
That last look stirred something old in my memory.
Back in high school, I'd had this Language and Speech teacher. Everyone loved her. Not just for her looks—blonde, blue-eyed—but for her presence. She wasn't soft despite her delicate features. She had a spine of steel and a voice that could silence a classroom with just a breath.
Natasha reminded me of her. Right down to those long, fluttering eyelashes of hers that enchanted anyone who dared to linger their gaze. She felt ephemeral, but oh so tangible, like an intense memory.
As if she could read my thoughts, Natasha's eyes narrowed into a catlike glint. They held desires only a husband should have privy to, communicated in that single second of eye contact.
I felt a shiver crawl up my spine.
"You're a handsome young man," she said smoothly. "Are girls your age just not your thing?" The question hit harder than I expected. Not from the words, but from the way she said them. So calm. So sure.
"I'm not exactly sure," I replied. "As long as a woman takes care of herself, she's attractive." I let my gaze drift across all four of them. The absurdity of the moment made me smile.
"What a womanizer! Hmph!" Yulia gasped, giving a playful pout. She turned to the others for support, and they nodded like conspirators.
"It's always the charming ones," Loretta added with a sly grin. "Be careful, girls. He might just eat you all up." If only they knew how true that had been. A scary fantasy crawled its way into my head.
All four of them lined up on my bed, in positions they'd want me to take them in. My heart ran a mile a minute for a moment, a hand on my chest to calm it down.
"Like you're one to talk," Sky muttered behind her glass, trying to stifle a laugh.
"Shush," Loretta shot back, still grinning. I returned to the kitchen, mixing the roasted tomatoes with the gouda I'd shredded earlier. The cheese melted into a velvety sauce, rich and comforting, balancing the savoriness of the beef and the sweetness of the onions.
The rice was done—fluffy, aromatic. Mixed with diced carrots, sweet corn, bits of scrambled egg, and a touch of oyster sauce. A colorful spread for five. Not extravagant, but clean and careful. Balanced, just like I'd hoped. I can only wish that they shared the sentiment as they eat.
"Wow! These look amazing!" Yulia leaned forward, eyes sparkling. Her snowy hair fell to the side as she inspected the spread.
"I thought younger men hated vegetables," Loretta mused, lifting a roasted tomato with a bit of melted gouda. "Mmm. Very good. A good cook too?" She licked her lips. "I'm tellin' you girls, he's dangerous."
"Glad to hear it," I said, handing out rice bowls. With that, dinner began.
Conversation flowed like wine. The girls chattered between bites, praising the food, teasing each other, and exchanging looks. I mostly stayed quiet, answering when asked, topping off their glasses, watching, and listening.
Eventually, the plates were emptied. Stomachs full. But they weren't done. Not yet. "Let's drink something special," Loretta announced with a wink.
She opened the fridge and retrieved a large glass jar, placing it on the table like it was a prized bottle of aged whiskey.
I knew that scent. Dryad dew. Hers. It had a rich, almost sweet aroma, tinged with something wild. Energizing, intoxicating. Part magic, part mystery.
"Let's play Spin the Bottle!" Yulia declared, already flushed.
"I like it! Why not?" Natasha agreed with a soft laugh. "We should include Jona." Suddenly, I was part of the circle. No time to decline.
I gave the bottle a spin. It landed on Yulia first. Then Sky.
"Truth or dare?" I asked, half-grinning. They looked at each other, then back at me.
"Dare!" they said in unison. I tilted my head, pretending to think. In truth, I already knew what I wanted.
"Both of you—feet together. Reach for your toes." A wave of laughter swept the table.
Natasha's smile turned crooked. Sky raised her eyebrows. Yulia and Loretta exchanged amused glances.
"Would Nat even be able to reach that far?" Loretta teased, eyes dropping meaningfully to Natasha's chest.
Natasha, to her credit, rolled her shoulders with a confident smile. "I can certainly try."
She stretched out, legs straight. Her massive breasts pressed down against her thighs, stopping her just past her knees. "Hnnn...!" Her effort-filled grunt was impossibly cute.
"I mean…" Sky chimed in, effortlessly folding forward. Her chest—smaller, but still generous—compressed against her jeans.
"I got it," she said smugly, fingers wrapped around her toes. The next spin. Sky's turn.
The bottle landed on Yulia and Loretta. "Truth or dare?" she asked, quick and to the point.
The two women shared a glance, then nodded. "Truth."
Sky smirked. "Since you both look way better than last week... have either of you found a guy recently?"
Both froze. For a moment, nobody moved. Then, they lifted their glasses in unison. A gulp of dryad dew later, and the grins appeared.
"You noticed?" Loretta asked, leaning forward, her cleavage resting on the table. "Yeah, you could say that." It's like she wanted me to ogle at them as a sign of superiority.
"Ahaha… I-I thought it wasn't that obvious," Yulia mumbled, playing with a tuft of her silver hair. My pulse quickened.
I'd slept with both of them. Once each. And those nights had left me wrecked. Passionate didn't even begin to cover it.
Sky shrugged with an exasperated smile. "Alright, settle who spins next."
Rock. Paper. Scissors, Shoot! Paper beats rock.
"Five years too early, Yuyu," Loretta said with a smug wink.
She spun the bottle. Me. Then—Natasha. Loretta's eyes sparkled. "Truth or dare?" she asked sweetly.
Before I could open my mouth, Natasha answered for me.
"Dare."