Chapter 18 #2
I move before she can. Stepping around the island, I catch her arm, stopping her short. She looks up at me, startled, and I pull her gently into my chest. Lowering my head, I brush my lips over her lobe. “Perfect,” I breathe out with a roughness I wish could match the gentleness I feel.
She smiles. “You’re sure? This isn’t too domesticated for you?”
I shake my head, one side of my lips curving up.
It smells good.
“Hopefully it tastes good too.”
Can I help?
She spins on her heel, and opens the oven door.
“No, everything is just about all set. It just needs time to cook.” Slipping on oven mitts, she pulls out a rack of what look like homemade rolls.
“Fingers crossed I didn’t overcook these.
I’m not used to working with such a fancy oven.
” She places the rack on the counter. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” She unties the apron and sets it aside, and my thoughts immediately veer somewhere they shouldn’t.
Like envisioning coming home to find her cooking, wearing the apron…
and only the apron. Internally, I shake my head.
She arches a brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “You seem to be better at ASL than you originally let on.”
I lift a shoulder and scratch at my beard. I’m a fast learner.
“We haven’t even had any lessons yet,” she points out, disbelief written all over her face.
I nod slowly, weighing my next move. How much am I actually ready to reveal to her?
She gathers a few books from the chair beside her and stacks them neatly on the table. “How about this?” she says, eyes lighting up. “While we wait for dinner, let’s start that first lesson? It’ll give me a chance to see how much you actually know.”
Okay.
“We can start with common words and then work our way up to small phrases. I have some worksheets for you to practice on and some homework to help with daily repetition.” She opens one of the folders and pulls out a sheet of paper.
“I also created a list of great resources you can use whenever you’re away or maybe just bored and want to practice.
” She pushes it toward me. “These are all teachers who work virtually with their students. And then these”—she points at the bottom—“are links for practice tests that really helped me.” She pulls another sheet from the folder, and I begin to feel guilty for lying to her about this.
Her brow lifts. “I’m guessing you’re familiar with the alphabet? ”
I nod. I’m so familiar with it, I could do it backwards after drinking a whole bottle of Macallan.
“Okay. Good.” She tilts her head, studying me.
“Then let’s start with common words and see where we need to focus.
I’ll say the word, and you’ll sign it. If you don’t know it, you spell it.
” She pauses, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.
“And for a little motivation, every word you know earns you a point.”
I arch a brow.
“Fifty points,” she adds, “and you get dessert.”
A grin tugs at my lips.
Game on, wife.
A timer goes off, just as I get my sixty-third word correct. Not that I hadn’t known the others. I’d missed a few on purpose, just to keep her guessing.
She shakes her head, scrunching her nose in disbelief. “You really are familiar with the basics.” With a soft sigh, she adds, “I’m going to have to reassess the entire plan I made for you.” She shifts as if to stand, but I stop her.
My fingers close gently around her chin, and I point back to the seat. A silent command for her to stay.
“Oh, I can—”
I shake my head once again, pointing to the seat, and she nods, remaining still.
I rise and move to the stove, lifting the lid from the pasta. Mmm. Everything smells amazing.
“You’re my first official student,” she tells me, chuckling.
“I’m hoping one of these days I’ll get a call that will change things for me, but for now…
well, I just keep sending out my resume and praying to the teaching gods.
” She sighs, and I look over my shoulder, seeing her resting her chin in the palm of her hand.
I reach into the drawer, grabbing a scrap of paper and a pen. Scribbling quickly, I fold it neatly and slide it across the counter toward her.
She smiles, unfolding it. “‘You’re a really good teacher,’” she reads aloud, a slight blush covering her cheeks. “Thanks. Although I’m beginning to think my student knows more than he’ll ever admit to and I can’t figure out why…”
Feigning shock, I mouth, me?
She laughs. “Yes, you.”
I grab another piece of paper, scribble a note, and pass it to her. I would be happy to reach out to some contacts to help you get a teaching job. It wouldn’t be a problem. You could have a new job by the end of the week.
She reads it, but shakes her head. “I appreciate the offer. Really, I do. But I want to earn this on my own.” She stares down at the counter, tracing her finger in a languid circle. “I’ve worked so hard for this. I’d hate to achieve my dream from a favor, instead of my own merit.”
I nod in understanding. Turning my attention to the meal, I carefully bring the skillet to the island, plating her portion first, then my own. I grab two rolls, setting one beside each plate, before sliding into my seat beside her.
She watches me for a moment, then picks up her fork and drags it through the sauce. “I hope you like it.”
I stab a piece of the chicken and penne, and place it in my mouth and… Oh fuck me, this is good.
Dropping my fork, I look at her and sign, Amazing.
“Really?” she beams, taking a bite.
I take another bite, closing my eyes for just a moment, and hold back a moan as the flavors—rich, garlicky, and perfectly seasoned—dance across my tongue. What the hell did she put in this?
“Wow, you’re right, this is good,” she says through a mouthful, eyes lighting up with each bite.
I scrape the side of my fork against the plate, ensuring I don’t miss a single drop of the sauce. She could make this for me every night, and I’d be one happy man.
Of course, I don’t expect her to.
I want to cook for her too.
I want her to be able to relax and unwind after a long day.
Maybe tonight after dinner, I’ll run a bath for her.
One where she has a glass of her favorite wine in her hand and one of those chocolates she loves so much, the ones she gets from Madeleine.
Maybe I’ll text Madeleine to ask where she gets the damn things from.
They’re probably from another country, but I don’t care, I’ll overnight them.
And then, when Alina is fully relaxed, I’ll satisfy her until all of her needs are met. Not mine. Hers. Starting by licking her pussy until she’s screaming out my name. I shovel the last bite into my mouth. Fuck, yes. Tonight, I’m going to make Alina see—
“Mauro?”
I freeze, the fork slipping from my fingers as my thoughts scatter.
“You already finished,” she observes, a soft note of amusement in her voice.
I glance down at my plate and realize she’s right.
“Guess you probably want dessert then, huh?”
I tilt my head, letting my gaze linger on her. The flush creeping across her cheeks isn’t from the wine. And the fact that her mind is in the same place as mine, well, it makes me instantly hard.
Carefully, I slip a hand beneath her chair and draw her closer until our legs brush. A shiver runs subtly through her, making my pulse spike.
She bites her bottom lip, eyes flicking down before meeting mine again. “You’ve been so busy since we got back,” she murmurs, her voice quiet, almost hesitant, “that we haven’t really had a chance to talk about… what happened while we were away. I thought maybe…you were avoiding me.”
Her attention drifts to her plate as she drags the fork through the pasta, then lets it fall with a quiet clink, pushing the plate aside. I feel a pang of guilt.
I’ve been an asshole.
Those big brown eyes glance up, and it’s like she’s daring me to meet the truth in them.
“We broke a rule,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
“But I…” Her gaze drops, only to lift again and meet mine, filled with a dangerous mix of longing and uncertainty.
“I want to break it again. I mean, only if you—”
I use my right arm to swipe everything off the counter in front of me. Plates, silverware, drinkware, it all crashes to the floor. Alina gasps as I grip her hips and lift her onto the surface. Our eyes lock for only seconds before our lips collide.
It’s like both of us have been waiting an eternity for this kiss. One I’ve been dreaming of since we left the island.
Her hands wrap around my neck, clutching me to her as mine grasp her waist, hauling her against my chest.
This… This is where she belongs.
Right here, with me.
In my hold, where I know she’ll always be safe.
My fingers travel down her waist, curling around the hem of her shirt.
Our lips separate as she raises her arms, and I lift the material over her body, flinging it behind her.
A sinfully delicious black bra contains her full breasts.
One that needs to be immediately removed.
Using only two fingers, I unclasp the front of it, my cock twitching at the sight before me.
She’s a fucking vision I never want to forget.
Pulling back a few inches, I place one hand on her chest and gently push her back until she’s lying flat against the marble. She’s panting in anticipation, her chest rising steadily as a dreamy look crosses her eyes.
I straighten, kicking the stool out of the way as I position myself between her knees, my fingers curling beneath the edge of her leggings.
I wait for her to give me the final word, and she does by quickly nodding.