17. Zander
17
ZANDER
Bzzzz bzzzz bzzzz.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I checked to see who was calling.
“Hi,” I greeted, staring into my closet like I’d never seen my clothes before.
“Hi yourself,” Ivy said.
Absently, I pulled the shirt I’d worn when Luka came over last week out of my closet, a warm flutter moving through my chest. “You’re the only person under fifty I know who calls instead of texting,” I said, more to distract myself as the events of that night came rushing back to me and not because I had an issue with her phone habits.
“And you’re the only person under fifty I know who still gets a physical newspaper delivered to their house instead of just reading it online.”
“Fair point.” I hung the shirt back up and tore my attention from my closet. “What’s up?”
“I’m bored.”
I laughed. “Where’s Mark? Isn’t it his job to keep you entertained?”
“Usually, but he’s at his brother’s tonight, so tag, you’re it.”
“Lucky me,” I deadpanned.
“So, what’s up with you?” she asked. “How was work last week after the big reveal?”
“Good,” I said. “I thought things might be awkward, especially for the first few days, but they weren’t. In fact, it’s like things are easier now that the secret is out and we can just relax and be ourselves and not have to worry about trying to hide things from each other anymore.”
“That’s really great,” she said, her voice soft with affection. “I’m really happy for you.”
“Yeah.” My cheeks heated slightly, and I was glad she couldn’t see my face because I was sure a big, sappy smile was currently splitting my lips. “Me too.”
“Have you had a chance to hang out again?” she asked. “It must be hard finding time together with your work schedules.”
“It is, and no, not yet. But I’m meeting him for dinner soon.”
“You are?” She perked up.
“Yeah.” I turned my attention back to my closet. “Actually, I could use your help with something.”
“Anything,” she blurted. “Hit me.”
“You’re way too excited about this,” I said.
“And you’re doing that thing where you’re excited on the inside and pretending like it’s not a big deal on the outside,” she said knowingly. “I can hear it in your voice.”
“It’s annoying how well you know me.”
“What do you need help with?” she prompted.
“I have no idea what to wear.”
“What kind of dinner is it?”
“What kind?” I asked, confused. “A normal one?”
“Oh, you sweet summer child.” She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “I mean, what kind of dinner is it? Are you going out or staying in? Are you having fast food, or is it fine dining? That sort of thing.”
“Staying in. He’s cooking for me.”
“Wow. He’s hot, into the same stuff as you, and he cooks?” Ivy asked, her tone incredulous. “He’s the perfect guy for you.”
A flutter of something tickled my stomach and chest. I’d spent most of today excited—giddy, even—at the prospect of Luka not just inviting me over for dinner but cooking for me.
It meant a lot that he wanted to put so much effort into making our night special, especially after he’d told me he didn’t really enjoy cooking anymore.
“Any other plans for the night?” she asked.
“None that I need clothes for.”
She laughed. “Make sure you take some extra hair ties with you to leave at his place, just in case you forget,” she teased. “But back to your clothes dilemma. I suggest wearing something comfortable that also makes you look like a snack.” She paused. “What about that dark green shirt, the one with the gold sheen to it? Pair that with black pants, and he won’t know what hit him.”
I pulled the shirt out of my closet and walked over to my bed to lay it out. “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. I’ve been standing in front of my closet like a moron for almost ten minutes trying to pick something.”
“How many outfits did you try on before you decided what to wear last weekend?” she asked knowingly.
“Too many.” I pulled a pair of black pants out of my dresser and lay them on the bed next to my shirt. “And only settled on the one I wore because I ran out of time. I feel like a teenager again. Obsessing over clothes, dissecting texts to try and read any sort of hidden meanings, spending all day giddy because he wants to cook for me.”
“You didn’t even act like that when you were a teenager,” she said with an affectionate laugh. “I’ve never seen you this in a tizzy over anything before, let alone a guy.”
“That’s true,” I conceded, pulling socks and a pair of boxer briefs out of my dresser to add to my clothes pile.
“When are you meeting him?”
I glanced at my alarm clock. “I have to head over in about twenty minutes.”
“I’ll let you go so you can get ready.” She made an excited sound. “I want to hear everything tomorrow.”
“Everything?” I asked, a teasing lilt to my voice.
“Well, not everything,” she said with a chuckle. “You can keep the spicy parts to yourself. But I want details about everything else.”
“Deal.”
“Have fun.”
“I will.”
She ended the call, and I tossed my phone onto the bed so I could finish getting ready.
Twenty minutes later, I knocked on Luka’s door, my hand shaking and my mind spinning with anticipation and nerves.
The door swung open almost immediately.
“Hi,” he greeted, his smile bright and a flush on his cheeks that immediately put my nerves at ease.
He was as excited as I was.
“Hi.” I came into the apartment, and the savory scents of meat and fresh bread tickled my nose. “It smells amazing in here.”
He flushed a deeper pink. “Thanks. I made pot roast and homemade buns.” His smile faltered. “Is that okay? I should have asked if you liked it before?—"
“It sounds incredible,” I assured him, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips.
He sighed softly and gripped my hips, holding me in place to prolong the kiss. “I’ve wanted to do that all week,” he said, his mouth hovering close to mine.
“Me too.” I kissed him again but pulled back before either of us could get too into it. “You look really good tonight,” I said, letting him see my appreciation as I checked him out.
The slim fit black pants and a royal blue button-up he’d put on made his eyes pop and looked incredible against his light coloring and blond hair.
He bit his bottom lip and raked his gaze up and down my body. “Thanks. You do too.”
Unable to help it, I pressed another soft kiss against his lips.
“Come in.” He waved for me to follow him into the living room. “It’s almost ready.” He paused and ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I’m sorry I’m so chaotic right now. I’ve just never done this before. Made dinner for someone like this. I don’t know how to act.”
Reaching out, I took his hand in mine and gave it a soft squeeze. “Thank you.”
“For what?” He ran his thumb over the back of my hand.
“For inviting me over, for cooking for me. It means a lot. And this is the first time I’ve done something like this too.”
His features relaxed, and his lips tilted up in a soft smile. “I like getting to share these firsts with you.”
“Me too.”
“Do you want to have a seat?” He flicked his gaze to the small table in the corner of the room. “I can get you a drink while I plate everything.”
I glanced at the table, and my heart melted at the careful way he’d set it and the small cluster of tea lights he’d used as a centerpiece.
“How about I get the drinks while you plate the food?” I suggested.
“Yeah, okay.” He smiled, the last of the tension leaving him. “That sounds good.”
His kitchen smelled even more heavenly than the rest of the apartment, and my mouth was watering by the time we were sitting at the table, our plates and drinks in front of us and the tea lights flickering in the dim light, casting a romantic glow over us.
Luka watched anxiously as I took my first bite. The taste of meat and vegetables and an array of spices exploded on my tongue, and I didn’t bother tempering my groan of approval.
“This is incredible,” I said when I’d swallowed. “I’ve never had pot roast this good before.”
He beamed and watched as I tore a piece off one of the buns to dunk it in the gravy. “You made these too?” I asked, popping the piece of bread into my mouth.
He nodded, his cheeks flushing soft pink. “Yeah. They’re my dad’s recipes. He used to bring this to every potluck he was invited to.”
“It’s amazing. One of the best meals I’ve ever had,” I said honestly.
Smiling, Luka picked up his fork and dug into his food.
We didn’t talk much as we ate, but that was mostly because the food was so good I was having a hard time pacing myself. When our plates were empty, I helped Luka bring everything into the kitchen and loaded up the dishwasher while he took care of the leftovers.
“Do you still have some room left?” he asked when the kitchen was cleaned up. “I made dessert, just in case.”
“You did?” I couldn’t help asking. He’d already put so much effort into the meal, it meant a lot that he’d made dessert too.
He chewed on the corner of his lip and nodded. “Apple crumble. And I have some vanilla ice cream to go with it. You mentioned you like that a while ago, and I have a really good recipe for one, so I thought I’d make it just in case.”
I didn’t even remember telling him that was my favorite dessert, and the fact that he’d remembered such a small detail about me made my chest tighten and my stomach do a little flip-flop.
“I’d love some,” I said, my voice a little hoarse from the swell of emotions rushing through me.
He grinned and pointed to the freezer. “How about you get the ice cream, and I’ll get the crumble.”
Still feeling way too emotional over a dessert, I got the ice cream out of his freezer and brought it to the counter as he pulled a square dish out of the oven. As soon as the door opened, the intoxicating scents of apples and cinnamon filled the small room.
As we dished out the desserts, I was hit with a sense of rightness at the domestic scene, and that sense stayed with me as we brought our food to the table and dug into the best crumble I’d ever had.
“That was so good,” I said when my plate was empty. “This is easily one of the best meals I’ve ever had.”
He put his fork down and leaned back in his chair. “The company was pretty great too.”
“It is.” Reaching out, I took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “How about you go relax for a minute and I’ll take care of the dishes.”
“I can’t let you clean up,” he said, lacing our fingers together.
“You cooked this incredible meal. The least I can do is put a few more dishes in the dishwasher.”
His smile melted into a mischievous grin. “Okay. You can take care of the dishes, then it’s time for part two of the night.”
“Part two?”
He didn’t say anything, just lifted our joined hands and pressed a kiss against my knuckles. “Yup.”
Tamping down my excitement, I cleared the dishes, then met him in the living room again.
“So, part two is in my room.” He chewed on his lower lip, his expression nervous again. “But it’s not… I knew I’d be really full after eating and?—”
“I get it, baby. I’m too full for sex too,” I said, hoping to put him at ease.
A smile replaced his nerves. “How’s your shoulder?”
“Shoulder?” I asked, not quite following the shift in conversation.
He took my hand and tugged me toward his room. “The one you hurt a few days ago.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” I said automatically. I’d twisted it the wrong way while lifting something. It still twinged a bit, but I was used to small aches and pains.
“Then how about a massage?” he asked, pushing the door to his room open.
“A massage?” I asked dumbly, staring at the towel he’d laid out on his bed.
“Yeah.” He grinned and closed the door behind us, his nerves gone again. “I thought I could give you a massage, help work out your shoulder and some of the tension from bending over cars all day.”
I had to swallow around the lump that formed in my throat. Our job wasn’t as physical as some trades, but backaches and sore necks were common at the end of a long week. I usually took care of things with a topical pain reliever and heat pads. A massage from Luka sounded downright luxurious.
“As long as I get to give you one,” I said, my voice husky.
“I think that can be arranged.” He started unbuttoning his shirt. “How about you take those clothes off for me and get on my bed?”
Trying to ignore my dick, who was very excited about getting to feel Luka’s hands on me, I stripped off my clothes, pausing when I was in just my underwear, the thin material not at all concealing my erection.
“Those too, if you want,” he said, waving his hands at my briefs. “Do you want me to leave mine on?”
“No, take them off,” I said, pushing mine down my hips so they puddled around my feet. My cock bobbed in front of me, but I ignored it and climbed onto the bed, laying on my stomach on the towel.
The bed dipped as Luka crawled onto it with me, then straddled my thighs. The heavy weight of him was almost as erotic as feeling his bare skin against mine.
Gentle hands brushed my hair back, sweeping it over to the side so it was off my neck. “Do you like the smell of vanilla?” he asked softly.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice gruff. I cleared my throat. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“Mine too.” The snick of a cap opening tickled my ear, and a moment later, slick hands pressed against my back as the soft scent of vanilla encircled us. “Now relax and tell me if I’m being too rough or you don’t like something.”
Closing my eyes, I crossed my arms under my forehead and let my body relax.
Luka’s slick hands moved over my back, kneading and squeezing my muscles as his nimble fingers found a myriad of knots I hadn’t even realized were there.
“Oh god,” I moaned as he worked out a particularly stubborn knot in the shoulder I’d wrenched. “How are you so good at this?”
“Years of playing hockey.” He smoothed his hands over my shoulder, the last of the pain gone and replaced with a delicious tingling sensation. “I spent a lot of time getting massaged by the team trainers.”
I moaned again when he started working my neck, using just the right amount of pressure.
“Good?” he teased.
“So good,” I said on a groan, not caring about how gone I sounded.
He chuckled and kept massaging me like he could read my mind and knew exactly what I wanted.
I lay there, boneless and barely able to think straight as Luka worked his magic hands over my back, shoulders, neck, arms, and even my upper thighs.
“Is this okay?” he asked, kneading my ass cheeks in his strong hands.
“So okay,” I mumbled into the bed.
His touch was perfect, strong and firm but gentle enough that I didn’t feel like I was being manhandled.
In fact, his grip was a little too good, and my cock was rock hard and aching in no time.
Luka finished massaging my ass and shifted so he was sitting on my thighs again, his cock resting on my crease as he resumed massaging my back.
Unable to help it, I bumped my hips up the slightest bit, pressing back against his dick.
“Keep doing that and I might forget that I’m supposed to be helping you relax,” he warned.
I did it again. Sex might be off the table, but that wasn’t the only way to get off.
“Now who’s the brat?” he asked with a soft chuckle, running his hands down my back until he gripped my ass in his still slick hands.
I looked over my shoulder at him. “What are you going to do about it?”
His eyes darkened with heat. “What am I allowed to do?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want?” He tilted his hips so his cock was nestled between my cheeks. “What if I want to fuck your crease and come all over your back?”
I let out a shuddering breath and lay my head back on the bed. “Do it.”
With a low groan, Luka thrust his hips and dragged his cock through my crease. The little bit of friction against my hole felt incredible, and I sank into the sensations of being completely relaxed and so turned on I might burst.
“Does this feel good?” he asked, pushing my ass cheeks together to create a tight passage for his cock to slide through.
“So good.”
Luka let out a soft cry and sped up his hips. Wanting to see him, I looked back over my shoulder.
He was magnificent, his powerful body moving gracefully in the dim light, his eyes glued to where we were joined.
A moment later he lifted his gaze to meet mine, and I saw the moment he tipped over the edge as his eyes rolled back and he let out the sexiest groan I’d ever heard.
Warmth splashed on my back and dripped into my crease as he shot his load all over me. He stayed still for a moment, enjoying the last of his release, then gave my ass a little tap.
“Lift your hips.” He shifted his weight off me.
I did and cried out when he wrapped his hand around my length. It took less than a dozen strokes before I came too, shooting onto the bed and pushing back against his hand as he stroked me through my orgasm.
“Holy shit,” Luka panted, lowering himself to my back and pressing soft kisses against my neck. “I swear I only meant to give you a massage. I wasn’t even thinking about anything else until I had you all spread out under me.”
I turned my face for a kiss. He obliged, and we were both grinning when he pulled back. “So, would this be considered a happy ending?”
He laughed and blew a raspberry into my neck. “I’d say this was a double happy ending.”
“Do you want to switch?” I asked. “I might need a minute before my bones feel like bones again.”
“I’m good.” He threaded his arms under my body and hugged me tight. “You can return the favor another day.”
I wanted to protest, but I halted as his words registered. You can return the favor another day . He was already planning more nights like tonight, and that made me deliriously happy.
“How about we take a shower together, then maybe we can watch something for a bit?” he suggested. “I’m not ready for the night to be over.”
“That sounds great,” I said, tipping my face back for another kiss.
His kiss was soft and sweet and so achingly perfect my heart stuttered in my chest, and we were both grinning when he pulled back.
Tonight was the best night I’d had in forever, and now that I’d had a taste of what it was like to be with Luka this way, I was never letting him go.