Chapter 26
Iwatch Lexie unpack the shopping bag. She lines the groceries up in a neat, orderly fashion, organizing everything just so.
She props her phone on the counter, opening a recipe she’d bookmarked.
I bite back a grin. Lexie’s a researcher at heart.
She probably scoured the Internet for the easiest dishes with the highest ratings and gathered some trivia along the way.
“You sure you don’t want help?” I ask, leaning against the door jam.
“I’ve got it.” She tosses a smile over her shoulder, then measures chili oil into the pan.
She looks cute, lips moving as she reads the instructions under her breath, so she doesn’t miss a step.
I take the moment to pull out my phone and shoot Dice a quick text.
Chaz: Heads up. Lot’s back.
Dots appear, so I wait for his response.
Dice: Heard. Where’d u c her?
Chaz: Market.
Dice: Guessing she’s still mad at me.
Chaz: Safe guess.
Dice: I don’t need this shit.
Chaz: Funny she said the same.
Dice: Whatever. Gonna let Lot do Lot. Not looking for grief.
Chaz:
Dice:
Chaz: Just saying . . .
Dice: If ur just saying then man up w/ Lexie.
Chaz: On it 2night.
Dice: fr?
Chaz: For real. U should talk to Lot too.
Dice: Hardly the same. Lex is a gentle feline. Lot is a wild cat.
Chaz: Still. She’s in town for a while. Cld get akwrd.
Dice: Prbly but not looking to get my eyes scratched out.
Chaz: Be brave, my brother.
Dice: Yeah. U too.
I tuck my phone away as the scent of garlic and onions fills the kitchen. Lexie glances at me, her cheeks pink from the stove’s heat.
“Thought I should let Dice know that Lot’s back in town,” I explain.
She nods, stirring the pot. “For all of Dice’s popularity with women, she didn’t seem thrilled when you mentioned him.”
“She just cut him off five years ago—before she moved to New York. Dice says he has no clue why. Lot’s not exactly an open-book. I suggested he talk to her. Lot’s father owns Docks. I assume she’ll be helping out if he needs surgery. Could get messy.”
Lexie sprinkles salt into the boiling water, biting her lip in thought. “Hmm.”
“Hmm, what?”
“You seem very invested.” She observes with a crooked smile.
“I’m just putting two friends of mine together who need to hash things out.”
“So you’re not trying to match-make?”
“Nope. I’ve got my own love life to focus on.”
“And how’s that going for you?”
“I did get a buy-again, so I’m feeling fairly optimistic.”
“A smart man knows he needs to keep it up.”
“No problem there, baby.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Why don’t you set the table while I finish the sauce?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I sneak in a kiss on her neck and grab a couple of plates, utensils, and glasses. After setting it all up, I reach for a bottle of wine from the small rack by the fridge. When I turn back, Lexie is tasting a bit of the sauce from the wooden spoon.
“That’s good,” she says, as if surprised. “It was rated foolproof. Guess it really is. I’m just going to give it fifteen more minutes to let the flavors deepen while the pasta boils.”
She bends to warm the bread in the oven, her jeans nicely hugging her slight curves. When she straightens, I’m already there, hauling her into my arms.
“Chaz!” she squeaks.
“If we’ve got fifteen minutes, we should take advantage. Give me a kiss, Blue.”
A smile forms on her lips as she lifts her unpainted mouth to mine.
She tastes of tomatoes and basil; her full breasts are soft against my chest. I hold the sides of her face and deepen the kiss, breathing her in and drinking her up.
Love and desire pound through me, beating in rapid synchronization.
Lexie slides her tongue against mine, and I lower my hands to her ass, my fingers teasing the seam of her jeans. My restraint slips, wanting to make her come right now—right here in my kitchen. I snap open her jeans, sliding my hand beneath her panties, brushing my fingers against her heat when—
A Beyoncé song blares from her phone.
“It’s Sophia,” she murmurs against my lips.
“Dammit,” I grumble, the moment broken.
She kisses away my frustration. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep.”
“You better.” I withdraw my hand with a groan and smack her butt as she turns to answer her phone, her voice a little breathless.
Sophia’s joyous face, all smiles, fills the screen. “Hi!” She waves with excitement. “Am I catching you at a bad time?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
We respond in unison. Lex elbows my ribs. “We’re just cooking,” she says. “How was day two of the conference?”
“I made lots of contacts. I’m so stoked. We’re just going to the banquet dinner now. I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. Can you help me with follow-up notes and stuff?”
“Yes, of course.”
“K. Thanks.”
“Enjoy the dinner and networking. Remember the two-drink rule.”
“I will. Thanks, Lex. Love you guys.” She blows us kisses and hangs up.
“She looks happy.” Lexie points out.
“I know. I just want her to be all right.”
“Sophia has to have her own experiences. You can’t bubble-wrap her.”
“You sure?”
She laughs.
“I know something that would distract me,” I say, pulling her into my arms again.
“Delayed gratification,” she reminds me, her fingers trailing up my chest, toying inside the button placket of my shirt.
“You mean the thing I call torture?”
“It’ll be worth it,” she promises, treating me to a brief kiss that singes my lips. Then, she steps back.
“You have a naughty side, Lex.”
“Do I?” Her grin is innocent, but there’s a glow behind it. It lights me up as I stand there like a dopey, love-sick fool sporting a hard-on.
After tossing the pasta into the fragrant sauce, she plates it on a platter with fresh Parmesan and a pinch of chili flakes and then brings it over to the kitchen table. It’s intimate and cozy, with the candlelight flickering between us.
“Damn, Blue,” I say after the first bite.
She blushes with pride. “Not bad, right?”
“Not bad at all. Interested in being my live-in chef?”
“We’d fare better with you doing the cooking.”
“I’m all for taking turns.”
“It’s a deal then.” Whether she’s joking or not, I can’t really tell. But I’m determined to find out before the night’s over.
When we’re done, she starts to clear the plates, but I shake my head. “I’ve got this. You cooked, I’ll clean.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Why don’t you take a bath? Relax a little.”
She hesitates, but I see the glint of interest in her eyes. “I would love a bath. But only if you’re sure.”
“Go,” I say, ushering her down the hall.
By the time I finish in the kitchen, I find her soaking in the tub. The scent of her body wash wafts up from the steamy water. Sunk up to her neck, her hair is piled on top of her head, the bubbles clinging to her skin, her nipples playing peek-a-boo with the suds.
“I can’t remember the last time I did this,” she says with a sigh. “Thanks for suggesting it.”
I wish I could join her, but the tub is too small for the two of us.
My size makes moments like this impractical.
I’m not self-conscious about my large body.
Sure, I took some self-esteem hits in high school, but who didn’t?
I liked the way I looked long before women started hearing my music and sliding into my DMs. Long before chubby, bearded, and tatted became a trend.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel annoyed when my body isn’t convenient for some everyday things.
I blow off the frustration, switching my thoughts back to her being here, wet and naked. I sit on the edge of the tub and roll up my sleeve before slowly slipping my hand into the water. The warmth wraps around my forearm as I sink lower and move closer to her.
“Feels good, right?” she murmurs, looking at me through half-lidded eyes.
“Hm-mm.” My fingers gently graze the flare of her hip, tracing it slowly, feeling the delicate heat of her wet skin beneath my touch. “I can make it feel even better.”
A purring sound rises from her throat and reaches down inside me. There’s a new openness between us now.
“Is that pussy aching for me, Blue?”
“Always.”
I smile at that. Demure and understated on the outside, but hot and lusty beneath the surface.
Not needing a second invitation, I slide my hand between her legs.
Lexie’s breath picks up, her lips parting ever so slightly.
Her eyes flutter closed as she squeezes her creamy thighs around my hand.
I separate her plump lips and ease my fingers inside her.
“Oh yes,” Her hips jerk upward, sloshing water over the rim. It releases her thigh-grip, and her legs part wide, giving me greater ease to fuck my fingers in and out of her.
I watch her getting off, moans catching in her throat. I find that little button of hard flesh and, before long, her satisfied cries echo off the bathroom walls. My self-control is almost in tatters as she comes, her nails biting into my wrist, breathing my name, and riding my fingers.
Damn. The only thing better than feeling an orgasm move through her, is watching her when it does. The way her body arcs and tenses, her beautiful face ravaged in the moment before it claims her, leaving her like putty in my arms.
I help her from the tub, dry her off, and lead her to the bed.
“Let me grab a shower, and I’ll give you a massage.”
“You’re spoiling me,” she mumbles into the pillow.”
“That’s the plan,” I say, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.