T W E N T Y F I V E
T W E N T YF I V E
- Avery -
I woke when something stirred beside me. A weight on the edge of the bed. The next sensation I noticed was a pleasant soreness between my legs.
“Good morning.” Oliver’s deep voice pierced the soft silence around me.
I opened my eyes. He was half naked on my side of the bed, perched atop the covers, which looked like the messy meringue peaks of a lemon pie. I smiled when I saw his handsome face, his smooth skin. Thank goodness I was willing to break promises to myself. When it came to pleasing this man, there was no level to which I didn’t want to stoop. “You’re up.”
“I made you some tea.” He nodded towards my bedside table. “English breakfast,” he added. “Not that there’s much in the way of breakfast.”
“Yeah...” I stretched my arms above my head and arched my back with a moan, wondering what pleasant aches I could look forward to after last night’s… private training session. “I’ve been meaning to get to the store.”
“I could butter some toast for you.”
“I’ll get spoiled.”
“I like you spoiled,” he said, his dark eyes warming my face. “Demanding.”
“I’ve always suspected being polite doesn’t suit me,” I said, scooting up against the pillows and deliberately letting him get an eyeful of my bare breasts before I pulled the sheet up.
“Tease,” he accused.
“You’d think after all the eyefuls you got last night, you’d be sick of them.”
“You forgot mouthfuls,” he said, waggling his brows. “And handfuls.”
I sighed, happy to relive the memory. His touch had felt so nourishing and naughty all at once. One moment he’d be teasing me lightly and in the next, he’d be squeezing me a little too hard. My mouth watered just thinking about it.
“You want that toast?”
“No,” I said, knowing I needed something way more substantial. Like a few omelets with French toast, a pile of hash browns, and some extra-crispy bacon. Man, one night with this guy and I was Michael Phelps. I fought a smile. “You want to go out for something?”
“Can’t,” he said. “I have to get some work done so I can take you to dinner again soon.”
I raised my brows.
“Since you have nothing to eat.” He almost seemed miffed about it. Like we’d been dating for ages, and the fact that I wasn’t taking better care of myself offended him somehow.
“How about instead of taking me out again, I take you in again?” I bat my lashes, hoping he’d get the joke.
“Why choose?” he said, his gaze falling down my blanket wrapped body as if he had x-ray vision.
I reached for the steaming mug of tea on the table, cradling it carefully in my palms in an effort to distract myself from Oliver’s Hollywood hard body. And that ass. It was almost comically muscular, perfect for sinking my fingers in when he was equally sunk.
“What do you eat when I don’t feed you?”
I shrugged. “Mealworms and crickets mostly… when I can catch them.”
He feigned a scowl.
“I also get a lot of snacking in at the bakery.”
“Oh right. That makes sense.” He looked at me like he was about to say good-bye. I felt a pinch in my chest, but I didn’t want to seem needy just because he’d ploughed me with enough oxytocin to kill a small rhino. “Sorry I can’t stay and… butter your toast.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, lifting the steaming mug. “It’s still pretty buttery from last night.” I wasn’t sure if the metaphor was obvious enough, but the look in his eyes told me it was.
“I’ll call you.”
“I also accept illicit images and texts.”
“I’m not a dick pic guy.”
I bit back a smile, amused at the ridiculous thought of him snapping a picture down his pants.
“I’m not fussy,” I said. “Your abs or backside will suffice.”
He grinned. “Careful now. You’ll make me feel like a butterface.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Don’t dig for compliments. You know you’re a handsome man.”
“You mentioned that once or twice last night,” he said, his side smile making me melt. “Though I think the word you used was ‘hot.’”
I blushed, hoping I hadn’t done too much pointing out the obvious. Lord knows there were moments I clearly liked what he was doing and felt compelled to tell him anyway. Like when he was licking me senseless on the sofa or when he carried me to the bedroom and took me from behind, his big hands wrapped around my hips like they were handlebars. Hey, maybe he’d think of me next time he took his bike for a spin. Either way, stating the obvious was no harm, right? Who didn’t love a bit of positive reinforcement? “I’m sort of relieved to hear my mumbling was coherent,” I admitted. “I was worried most of it might have come across as breathy babbling.”
“It was hot,” he said, perhaps sensing that’s what I wanted to hear. “Everything you did last night was incredibly hot. Starting with your striptease and ending with the way you asked me to stay.”
“I wish you’d stay now.”
“I wish you didn’t look so deliciously moreish all tucked up in bed because I genuinely have to be going.”
“But coming is so much more fun,” I said, trying to keep my tone flirtatious instead of breaking into a full-on pout.
“I can’t wait to see you again.”
I scoffed. “There’s not much you haven’t seen, but I’d like to see you again, too.” And ride all the rides again, please!
He leaned forward to give me a soft kiss, and the warmth of his lips and attention made me feel so safe and cozy I couldn’t imagine wanting to wake up alone or with anyone else ever again. It was terrifying. All he’d done was make me tea and treat me well. Was I pathetic or was he actually a prince?
“I’ll see myself out.”
“You really don’t have to go,” I said, worried the spell would be broken if he left. “You could stick around and wait on me all day. Or I could wait on you.”
“Rain check,” he said, rising from the bed and taking the comforting weight of his body with him.
I figured it made more sense to stay put than chase him out in the nude. “Thanks for a great night. I really enjoyed myself.”
“If you didn’t, you have an odd way of showing it.”
I slapped the air between us like he didn’t need to rub my enthusiasm in my face. If he knew how long it had been since I got treated like that, he’d understand. And I don’t just mean what happened at mine. I mean the whole date. It was a dream. Just the right amount of risky business to balance out the romantic meal. The guy was a catch, and I was lucky he’d set his sights on me, no matter what the future held for us.
“Do you have far to go?” I asked.
“No,” he said, pausing at the door. “I’m only a short walk away.”
The thought of walking made my pussy wince. There was no way I was getting out of bed… except to grab my laptop and order a Santa Fe breakfast burrito stat. Maybe I’d spring for extra guac, too, and make this morning a real home run. I made my hand look like a phone and held it up to my ear. “Call me.”
“Bye, Avery.”
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I heard the door close behind him. Then I sighed, set my tea down, and slouched under the covers, smug from head to toe and hopeful for the first time in ages that my love life might not turn out to be a tragedy after all.