26. Alessandra
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
alessandra
My footsteps falter as I stare at the overflowing cart in the middle of the aisle.
Chewing my lip, I take in the spices, chicken thighs, lemons, orzo, and tomatoes, along with a bunch of other items.
Am I overstepping?
The small grocery store in Sutton Bay stocks most essential items, but I drove to Jacob’s Bluff , the larger neighboring town, in search of specific ingredients.
Something twinges in my chest. Booth is due to arrive at my apartment in an hour.
Yet here I am, about to spend over one hundred dollars on groceries because of the guilt I’ve felt since he revealed his deepest, darkest secret and I gave him nothing.
Pushing down my doubt, I steer the cart toward the checkout, and almost collide with a willowy woman.
“Florence?” I exclaim, swerving so I don’t crush her toes.
Her white-blonde bob swishes when her head whips in my direction.
“ Oh , Alessandra . Hi . What are you doing here?” She crumples up the papers she’s holding and shoves them in her tote as red creeps up her neck .
I pretend I didn’t see resume typed in bold lettering along the top.
Glancing at the food, my lips flatten.
“ Stocking up on groceries.”
“Yeah, same,” she rushes out, though she shows no evidence of shopping.
“ That’s a lot of food for one person.”
“Who knows when another storm is going to hit?” I shrug, hoping she doesn’t press me further.
She nods slowly. “ Good point. Well , have fun tonight. Tell Booth I sa—” Her mouth snaps shut.
I sigh in defeat. “ Your brother is a blabbermouth.”
Apology laces her features, but she has the same vexatious glint in her eyes like Booth .
“ Sorry . I caught him styling his hair when I popped around earlier. When I quizzed him on it, he got so worked up I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel.”
Waving her off, I keep my tone light.
“ I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone else. It’s , umm…”
What the hell is it we’re doing?
Florence mimics zipping her mouth shut, then throws an invisible key over her shoulder.
“ Booth ? Who’s Booth ? Sounds like a douche.”
I finish assembling the items along my narrow kitchen countertop when the buzzer to my apartment goes off.
Steeling a breath, I don’t overthink it.
Friends do nice things for each other all the time.
Though none of my friends back home have texted me since I moved here.
Which says a lot.
I cringe, realizing I’m thirty years old, with surface-level relationships, and one bad decision away from having an identity crisis.
The buzzer sounds again.
Unable to contain my smile, I press the intercom.
“ What’s the password?”
His amused voice crackles through the speaker.
“ Booth Sadler has a gigantic co?—”
I cut him off and buzz him in.
Not thirty seconds later, a heavy hand pounds on the door.
In no rush—mostly to taunt him— I pad over and crack it open.
“ Can I help you?”
He looks up from where he’s casually leaning against the wall, donning a worn navy backward cap.
His crooked smile is filled with filthy vows and my skin breaks out in goose bumps as I drink him in from head to toe.
His cockiness—while annoying—isn’t misplaced.
He really is beautiful, with a masculine edge.
A deep hum rumbles from his throat.
“ You can start by letting me inside and then giving me those lips, Silver . I’m fucking starved.”
Since our rendezvous in the supply closet, my vibrator hasn’t gotten close to satiating me like he did.
Likely his plan all along.
Needing him to fill the void, I abandon my teasing.
As soon as he steps over the threshold, I’m hoisted into his arms, leaving no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist.
He thrusts his tongue into my mouth, and groans when I loop my arms around his neck.
We stumble into the apartment, my heart racing with each lick and nip.
Somewhere along the way, he loses his coat and cap, and I take advantage by running my hands over the corded muscles on his shoulders and arms.
I lose myself in the kiss, to the point I don’t realize we’ve moved into the kitchen.
The fridge rattles as he presses me up against it, his hot mouth trailing down my neck and over my collarbone as I feel him thicken beneath me.
My head lolls to the side, and a high-pitched gasp leaves me when he draws my hardened nipple into his mouth over my tank.
“Oh fuck,” I call out when he clamps down with his teeth before flicking it with the tip of his tongue.
“Aly?” he rasps between my breasts, not stopping his delicious torture.
“Yes. Whatever it is, yes .” Desperation seeps from my voice.
“I love the enthusiasm, baby. But would you mind telling me why there’s an entire grocery store in your kitchen?”
I freeze.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Let me down.” He drops me lightly on my feet.
I slide out of his hold, hoping he doesn’t pick up on my embarrassment.
“ Okay , so don’t look into this too much, but I thought we could cook together. Whatever . If you don’t want to, I’m sure I can give it to a food bank.”
I keep my gaze on the faucet, the drip drip drip of water taunting me as the silence ticks by.
An unfamiliar discomfort makes it impossible to face him.
“Like I said”— I throw a hand toward all the food—“it’s no big deal.”
“Alessandra,” he says sternly.
“ Look at me.”
Bracing myself, I take a calming breath before glancing at him.
“Wipe that frown off your beautiful face first. And then come here.” He crooks a finger at me, and I bite back my retort.
Each slap of my feet against the tiled floor sounds like a drum in my ears.
When I’m less than a foot away, he crouches to my level, eyes burning into me.
“ Why are you freaking out? ”
“I’m not,” I say stiffly.
Some of my resolve dissolves when he cups my cheeks gently.
“Okay, you’re not. Do you know what you are?”
I shake my head.
“You’re the most impressive woman I’ve ever met. Being in your presence does something to me I can’t put into words. I could go on about how breathtakingly beautiful you are until I’m blue in the face. Your brain is astounding—so smart and perceptive. Yet somehow you’ve refused to see the shit-eating grin I’ve been wearing since you said you wanted to cook together.”
My breath catches.
All my fight falls away at the conviction in his voice.
I curl my lips over my teeth.
“ It’s not weird?”
He laughs and plants a kiss between my brows before striding to the other side of the kitchen.
“ You’re weird for thinking it’s weird. Now get your ass over here and tell me what we’re making.”
All worries demolished, I join him.
His eyes light up when I tell him we’re making a traditional Greek dish, my giagiá’s recipe, making my heart swell.
He listens intently as I go through the steps for youvetsi with chicken.
Twenty minutes later, Booth is “helping” me prep the chicken before it roasts in the oven.
His version of help is standing behind me, chin perched on my shoulder, arms looped around my waist.
It was cute at first. Until he started backseat cooking.
Use this pan instead.
Sauté it some more.
Here, let me show you.
I slam the knife down when he murmurs, “ Try dicing it like this,” in my ear.
“Did you want to do this?” I snap.
His breathy laughter tickles my nape.
“ Sorry , sorry. You can take the chef out of the kitchen… ”
I twist my upper body.
“ Really ? I wish I knew how.”
“Look at you taking charge.” He presses his hips forward, hard cock settling at the base of my spine through his jeans.
“ What’s the next step?”
An internal fuse must blow, because the recipe I was raised with is, poof , gone.
“What’s the matter, Aly ? Something distracting you?” With a flick of his finger, the strap of my tank falls off my shoulder.
My hands tremble when he scrapes his teeth over my skin.
“ Maybe you do need my help.”
I shake my head, searching for a single brain cell so we can finish this recipe.
“ Shh . Um , we need to…” I spy the tomatoes.
“ Right , we need to cover the chicken in water, olive oil, and tomato sauce. Then sprinkle it with cinnamon.”
“Cinnamon? Nice .” His words barely register as he steps up beside me, the loss of his touch immediate.
I watch him, entranced, as his large hands work methodically.
His presence is large, but in the kitchen his movements are graceful and fluid.
I’ve never questioned his skills or his commitment.
Since the night he revealed his dream to work elsewhere, it was clear he’d put that to rest. I can’t stop thinking about it, though.
Any kitchen would be lucky to have a talent like his, and my mind keeps wandering to the restaurants in our hotels, each specializing in a range of cuisines from around the world.
It’s easy to picture Booth conquering those spaces like he is a small corner of my heart.
“Earth to Aly .” His voice pulls me back into the room.
While my mind wandered, he whipped up a pan of tomato sauce that now simmers over the stove.
“Perfect. Once that’s done we combine and bake for forty-five minutes, uncovered.”
Almost robotically, I open the preheated oven.
The wave of heat that blasts me in the face is nothing compared to the red-hot fire roaring inside me.
Before my next move, he leans over and switches off the flame, the fingers of his left hand splaying across my hip.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“We can come back to this.” The words vibrate from his chest, fingers edging over my belly.
“ But you’re too fucking distracting standing in the kitchen like this. I can’t keep my hands off you for another second.”
I’m spinning around before he finishes speaking.
There’s nothing soft about us when we’re together.
It’s harsh, passionate, deliberate.
His touch is confident, like my body is a recipe he’s been perfecting for years, not weeks.
I scramble to get his shirt off, reveling in the way his muscles quiver under the scrape of my nails.
My hands move south, fumbling with his zipper.
“You want my cock again, Silver ?” He presses my palm against his throbbing length.
Without speaking, I lower to my knees, but in the blink of an eye, the air is knocked from my lungs when Booth pins me against the wall.
“Me first. It’s a fucking crime I haven’t tasted you yet.” A burst of pain comes from my lip when he slowly drops to his knees.
His fingers curl around the waistband of my lounge pants, slides them down my legs, then throws them haphazardly across the kitchen.
His breath catches when he finds me bare.
Through hooded eyes, he stares up at me, fingertips skimming above the dark strip of hair on my pelvis.
“ I should be disappointed there isn’t any lace for me to peel off you. But I guess it means I can do this without any interruptions.”
My question dies on my lips when he hooks a leg over his shoulder and buries his face into my pussy.
His tongue lashes over my center.
No gentle caresses or teasing touches.
He devours me like a man starved, lavishing me as I slump against the wall, his hands being the only thing to stop me from collapsing.
“ Gamoto. ” Fuck . “ Yes , Booth .” My hands wind into his messy hair, anchoring his mouth to me as my orgasm crests.
“ I need your fingers. Fuck me with your fingers.”
“God, I love it when you tell me what to do.” He flicks the tip of his tongue against my clit before plunging two thick digits into my pussy and pumping into me in rhythm with his wicked mouth.
“ Come for me, Aly . Then I’ll give you my cock, you greedy fucking girl.”
In no time at all, I’m catapulting over the edge.
Stars blind me.
Booth doesn’t let up.
He relentlessly licks, sucks, and kisses me through each ripple of pleasure.
The forearm he has pressed to my stomach keeps me in place as he tortures me.
Minutes? Hours ? Who knows how much time passes, but when he finally concedes, he grins up at me, tongue running over his glistening lips.
“Who knew Alessandra Argiros could be so sweet and submissive.”
His teasing wink and cocky words have the right effect.
On wobbly legs, I set the half-cooked ingredients in the fridge.
When I face him, I’m the one smiling suggestively as I run my hand down his jaw.
“How about we switch it up?”