InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Grocery Gettin' ❯ Meeting ( Chapter 1 )

ONLY REALLY 1 PAIRING (INUYASHA AND KAGOME) AND (MIROKU AND KAGOME) BUT VERY LITTLE

LEMON-LEMON-LEMON

VERY EXPLECIT (SP?)

DISCLAMER: DON'T OWN ANY OF INUYASHA CHARACTERS OR THE SHOW FOR THAT MATTER.

AND ANOTHER TO THE STORY IT'S REALLY BY EILEEN M. JOHNSON, A VERY GOOD AUTHOR, AND THE STORY FROM THE BOOK IS CALLED CHOCOLATE FLAVA. I JUST CHANGED THE CHARACTERS A LITTLE.

Grocery Getting'

"Yester-me, yester-you, yester-daaa-aaa aay!" - Singing along with Stevie Wonder, I swung into the parking lot of Albertsons. Miroku left a message saying that when he got back to New Orleans tonight, he wanted to go out for surf' n turf. After a day of unsuccessfully trying to adjust to my new work schedule, the last thing I felt like doing was getting dressed, driving across town, waiting for a table, and then waiting for our food.

Instead, I decided to stop at albertsons on my way home. Miroku would get his surf' n turf wish fulfilled but it would be served much more cheaply and in the comfort of my own home.

temporarily telling Stevie good-bye, I turned off the ignitio and got out of the car. The university had recently adopted a dressy casual policy for falculty and although i was comfortable, I was hot! My khakis stuck to my thighs as the late afternoon heat engulfed the city.

Walking into the welcoming, artificial coolness of the supermarket, I dropped my purse into a basket and listessly pushed it torward the meat department. Stopping in front the beef cooler, I picked over the New York Strips. Finding a suitable pair for a decent price, I tossed them into a basket. Moving on to the seafood department, I planned on quickly picking up two lobsters and hurrying back.

Miroku and I had only been seeing each other for wo months but I had already grown weary of his finicky appetite. The only things he seemed to like were things that I either detested or hated to prepare. For years, I'd watched my mother, her mother, and my great-granny cook everything from quiche to consumme to pigs' feet to portbellas. There was no doubt that I knew my way around the the kitchen, but Miroku found flaws in everything that I set in front of him. Jokingly, I sometimes wondered to myself if he found my pussy to be bland and undercooked when he ate it.

Giggling to myself, I stopped in front of the lobster tank. Bending down, I tried to spot two that looked large enough for me to pay nine dollars a pound.

"Let me have him, him, and her," a smooth male voice on the other side of the tank was saying. "I' m going to grill the tails so I need really plump ones."

Smiling like a man who was satisfied with himself, the man watched as the clerk used tongs to extract three lobsters from the tank. He was tan, tall, and lanky. A little too thin for my taste, but his smile was intriguing the hell out of me.

"Did I take the ones you wanted?" he asked, his voice thick with amusement.

"No. I am going to take these two," I said as I motion toward a pair that were playfully clawing at each other.

"Just checking. I have the habit of taking what I want," he said in a a voice filled with innuendo. Eyeing me openly , he slowly ran his tongue along his top lip.

"Is that so?" I asked, playing along. "How can you take what is bein given to you willingly?"

"Well, sometimes people insist that they want to give it to me but renege and I wind up having to take it."

His words oozed out with a strong, lascivious force. The icy cold air of the supermarket had caused my nipples to strain against the fabric of my bra and my black cotton blouse. Aiming his gaze directly at them, he again gave his lips a slow lick.

"Are you a giver? Or do you prefer to be taken?" he drawled.

Embarrassed, the seafood clerk slinked away to weigh and wrap the lobsters.

"well," I began thoughtfully, my eyes wide and full of innocence. "I never give and refuse to be taken."

"Oh, yeah? Is that so?" he replied jaunily as the clerk handed him the wrapped lobsters. "Write down a way that I can get in contact with you and I'll teach the rules of give and take."

Scribbling down my name and number on a receipt that I extracted from my purse, I handed it over to him. Reading it, he smiled.

"Okay, Miss Kagome. I look forward to talking," he said saucily before walking away.

"I'll tke those two," I indicated right before he burst out laughing.

Closing the oven, I reached for the pan on the stove and poured the clarified butter into two ceramic cups.

"It doesn't look seperated enough," Miroku said from his perch at the bar.

"I've seen and done this a million times. It's seperated enough," I retorted with a bit of an edge.

Shrugging his shoulders, he went back to reading the Times-Picayne. Ever sice he'd arrived, he'd picked at my nerves. It was wonderful having a man present in my bed and to curb my loneliness, but Miroku had something to say about everything. In his mind, he was an expert at everthing. He'd alreadymade comments about the type of foundation I used on my face, the way I wrapped the foil around the potatoes before I put them in the oven, the way I was grilling the steaks. I was simply going to agree with everything he said. Hopefully, my humbleness would get on his nerves and he would see how it felt to be aggravated.

Opening the oven, I tested the baked potatoes with a fork. Taking themout, I set them on plates along with the steak and lobster tails and brought out the condiments. Sitting down, I bowed my head in prayer before digging in and dipping a chunk of lobster tail into the "not-seperated-enough" clarified butter. It was delicious. Cutting off a small piece of the steak, I I popped it into my mouth and savored the melted taste as it melted away. I had really outdone myself.

Looking across the tableat Miroku, I saw from his facial expression that he was enjoying the food. But I also knew that in a second or two, he would find something fault. He wanted fucking surf 'n' turf and I'd made it to the best of my ability. Still, not good enough for him. To test him, I silently began to count. One. Two. Three. Four. Fi--

"If you would've wet the potatoes and made a slit in the foil, they would've baked easier and been most," he said, scraping some of the flesh from the skin.

I knew it! I didn't even get to complete the count of five and he was complaining. What really burned me was the fact that he had yet to stop chewing. He was handsome and educated but he had such an immature, small mind.

One more chapter then its done. The next Chapter is real lemony if thats even a word so review and the more creative it would get. Just playin. The story is made but the more reviews the faster it come.

P.S. Inuyasha in the next chp.