Chapter 21
Tristan
For once, reality really is every bit as good as imagination, ‘cause walking through the door to find Jesse standing motionless in front of a cutting board, already staring off in the direction of the bathroom? Hella gratifying.
The fact that he legitimately jumps when he sees me catch him at it as I walk out? Even better.
The sexy as hell little gasp of sound he lets out as he gives me the most obvious, open-mouthed up-down I’ve ever seen in my life? Fucking priceless.
“You okay, sunshine? You look a little worked up.” If I’m shamelessly smirking as I say it, who can blame me, really? All things considered, I think it’s quite well deserved.
He shakes his head, like he’s trying to deny it, but I can hear his breath catch from here.
And then there’s the super obvious fact that he’s not saying a word, just staring at me with that adorable, sexy pink flush on his cheeks and his chest moving a bit too fast. I can’t really be blamed if that just eggs me on more now, can I?
Taking my sweet time—‘cause fuck, the way he stares makes me feel powerful—I cross the distance between the bathroom and the kitchen, over to the kitchen counter bar, across from where he’s standing by a pot of water boiling away on the stove.
To my total surprise, the room smells amazing. A garlicy, buttery, toasty kind of amazing that far exceeds my limited expectations.
Let’s be honest though, good as it smells, that is nothing but a passing thought.
“Sooo,” I let the word draw out as I lean in to rest my elbows on the counter, silently daring him to come over here and just kiss me already. “Whatcha been thinking about while I was in there?”
And then— Oh fuck yess.
Before I can even process that he’s moved, he’s halfway across the kitchen, honest-to-god prowling toward me, all flushed and totally nervous but determined and certain. I don’t know how he pulls it all off at once, but he does.
And that combination? Hot as fuck on him.
Of course that means that now all my efforts to calm down were for nothing, because just the sight of him like this, all rumpled and buttoned up and feral all at the same time, has gone and gotten me harder than ever.
Not that I’m complaining though.
“You know exactly what I was thinking about.” His voice is low and growly, and goddamn it if I can’t feel it in every corner of my body as he crowds me back against the counter.
“I couldn’t get you out of my head. You and how badly I wanted to do exactly what you said and let myself in to join you. ”
“Why didn’t you then?”
He’s standing only inches from me now, and my whisper is a challenge.
My heart’s going crazy in my chest as he shakes his head, all slow and jerky. An apology? Refusal? Confusion? I don’t have a single clue what those thoughts are. Still, I swear I can feel them whirring around as he tries to work out an answer to my question.
Hard as it is not to reach out and touch, I keep my hands to myself.
Teasing? Totally fair game, as far as I’m concerned, but I’m not gonna be the one to try and start something.
Ever since he put me off last night, something’s been telling me that, for whatever reason, Jesse needs to be the one to set the pace. So, teasing aside, I’m going to let him.
Am I above giving him a teeny nudge or two though? Hell no.
“You know, I couldn’t really get myself to stop thinking about you while I was in there either, sunshine,” I whisper, making sure my voice is low and breathy enough to convey exactly what I’m trying to imply.
His mouth falls open with a punched out little sound, and I have to bite my lip to keep from grinning in delight.
“It’s not too late to make it up—”
The hot, firm press of Jesse’s lips isn’t hesitant or nervous as he swallows the rest of my words. Words that don’t matter at all anymore, ‘cause ohhh yes.
The next second, I’m fucking gone. Digging my fingers into the backs of his thick shoulders as my tongue tangles with his, meeting him stroke for stroke.
Sucking his plush lower lip into my mouth so I can bite down to hear his low, filthy groan as he grinds his hips against me, hard and desperate, the hot friction of his cock straining through his jeans threatening to pull loose the towel that’s barely covering mine.
One of his hands slips up from my waist, skimming up and over the inked skin of my left side before, fuuck, his fingers brush against my nipple at the same moment as he sucks my tongue into his mouth, making my brain and body explode with crackles of pleasure exactly as if it were my cock he’d just closed his plump, soft lips around.
If I weren’t too far gone to care, I might actually be embarrassed by how loud I moan into his mouth.
Even if I had been, the answering groan he gives and the hard thrust of his hips would make me forget anyway.
I can feel his grin against my lips as he splays his hand over my pec and rubs his thumb over the tight bud of my nipple again.
“Fuck, sunshine—” I’m gasping against his lips, giving my hips just a little roll against his thigh, just enough to make sure he can feel how he’s got my cock fucking aching for him.
Over the heavy sound of our hungry breaths, there’s another noise. An irritating beeping that I know means something, but fuck if I care, because his mouth is on the line of my jaw, nipping and sucking.
Both his hands are roaming my body now. Teasing down my sides. Stroking over my stomach. Down—
Yes— Ohhfuck yess—
Tingling pleasure hums across my skin ahead of his touch, shooting straight south to join the blazing, electric heat building between us where my cock twitches and leaks as I grind it against the thigh he’s pressed forward between my legs, as much as he can get it with the towel still wrapped around me.
I’m at the point of just ripping the damn towel off, but the next panted breath I suck in has a choking, sharp scent to it, and suddenly a louder, piercing shrieking sound joins the lowkey beeping in the background.
“Fucking no,” Jesse half growls, half moans, dropping his head against my shoulder. “I forgot about the garlic bread.”
The heavy gust of his gasping breath fans deliciously over my skin, making it hard to care, but, because he’s either a total fucker or because he’s an actual, functional human being who doesn’t want to choke to death on burned garlic bread fumes, Jesse has the nerve to pull away, making a truly hilarious dash for the oven.
Okay, I don’t actually think he’s a fucker. Except now he’s sorta ruling out my functional human-being-thought too, ‘cause it legitimately looks like he’s about to go and reach bare handed into the oven—which, by the way, is billowing more smoke than ever now that he’s opened it.
Since I don’t want to see him get burned regardless, I get my ass into the kitchen as quickly as I can, while still keeping my towel somewhat wrapped around me, so I can shove the oven mitt sunshine should be using into his hand.
By the time the blackened lumps that he insists on still calling garlic bread are safely outside the front door, the kitchen fan running, and the smoke alarm finally silent, Jesse at last remembers the pasta he’d had boiling.
“I told you I knew better than to trust your cooking,” I smirk, looking back over my shoulder to toss a grin at him as I scrape the gluey pile of mush out of the pot and into the trash, only to find him right beside me.
Like the tease he is, he leans in, whispering against the back of my neck, “I’m not sure this counts since you were distracting me.”
His breath is warm and so fucking sexy skimming over my skin, and even though my thoughts could slip into panic that he blames me, that he’s just holding back from telling me it was me that made him ruin the dinner, they don’t.
‘Cause the way he’s stroking his hands up my back and down across my collarbones under the neck of the shirt I grudgingly pulled on feels too damn good, and the warm, solid presence of him feels too damn comforting.
And because he smells like himself; citrus and cinnamon and the faint smell of that damn wool sweater of his, mixed up with burnt bread and garlic and whatever half-chopped herbs he’d forgotten about that were supposed to go on top of our dinner.
“Sounds like an excuse to me, sunshine.” I hold my breath for a moment, waiting, heart pounding as I wonder whether I’m about to regret my stupid-ass testing.
“Better let me try again tomorrow night then.” He moves his head forward, lips tracing the top of my tattoo where it starts low along the side of my neck.
My held breath rushes out with a little moan, and suddenly I forget why I was even holding it in the first place.
“Probably for the best anyway,” I murmur, reaching back to take fistfuls of his sweater so I can use it to tug his body closer against me. “I’m not really all that hungry…”
The moment I give my ass a little shove against him, he steps back, pulling free of my grip on his sweater. Fucker.
“Nice try,” he laughs. Like I didn’t just feel how totally into what was happening he was. “We’re still eating, I’m just not sure I have anything else decent to cook for you. Want to see if the roads have thawed out enough for anyone to be willing to deliver takeout?”
“Sure,” I grin at him. “Except you do know I have all night to wear you down after that, right?”
There’s no way I’m imagining the flare of heat in Jesse’s eyes as he quickly turns away from me, pretending to be very busy all of a sudden, looking up restaurants on his phone. And ohhh, I fucking love it.