15. amelia
15
AMELIA
T he kitchen, where meals for the entire bed-and-breakfast were prepared, was huge. Every inch shone, setting it apart from all the other places I had cooked and baked in before.
Nervousness spread at the base of my spine, threatening to immobilize me for a moment. I looked to Gray for help. The cook and the rest of the staff had finished their shifts hours ago—which meant that the guests either had to leave the barbecue without dessert or I had to step in and whip up an old recipe from my grandmother to save the evening.
Unfortunately, I had let slip that I had a knack for baking, which is why I now found myself in this predicament.
"I shouldn't be doing this," I muttered, ready to turn around and head back outside to my cabin. That would have been the easy way out of the situation, but certainly not the right one, if Gray's expression was anything to go by.
He was hoping I could pull it off and save the evening. And if it had been just the two of us, it would have been doable. But exposing myself to the criticism of all these people didn't seem like the best way to end the evening.
"And why not, Amelia?" His voice carried genuine concern.
"What if I mess it up?"
"Has that ever happened before?"
His question made me clench my teeth. "No."
"Then why would it go wrong tonight?" he continued.
Because never had so many people simultaneously experienced what I had baked. Not to mention that Gray was behind me, and these were his guests. A mistake could reflect poorly on him.
His question had pulled me out of the scene I had been engrossed in. My eyes had been glued to that book. The content was not new to me, but the fact that it was recommended by Gray made it a glimpse into his world of thoughts in a way I hadn’t experienced before.
I licked my lips. "Because I might not be fully focused," I responded.
How was I supposed to remember the correct amounts in the recipe when my imagination was running wild? And what was happening in my head was far more interesting than anything I could possibly create with a few ingredients.
"Stick bread with marshmallows and chocolate for dessert? Forget it… I'd rather shed my clothes and transform into Gray's personal dessert."
"And why is that?" Gray had stepped up behind me, resting his arms on either side of me against the counter. I felt his cheek against mine as he looked over my shoulder down at my hands, which I had folded on the cool metal.
I snorted. "You know exactly why. Or would you rather pretend again that you're an innocent man?"
"Maybe I am innocent."
"Or maybe you let me read an erotic novel that raises certain questions to test if I can keep up with you."
"As if I needed to test that.” His tone was amused.
My body responded to his words, a wave of heat shooting up my spine. My nervousness was forgotten. I leaned back slightly until my shoulders pressed against his chest, and I could feel his warmth. Gray's hot breath hit the bare skin of my neck.
"What makes you so sure?"
He lifted a hand, slid it down from my elbow, and finally clasped my fingers to guide my hand slightly to the right, repeating the action with the other. At the same time, his knee nudged between my legs, forcing me to shift my stance slightly.
Not much, and he would have been able to bend me effortlessly over the counter. Just as he had hinted at earlier this week in front of the bar. My thoughts raced.
"See?" he whispered to me. "Without thinking, you let yourself be positioned in a way I like. No protest. No surprise."
I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. "What if I just allowed it because it's you?"
I thought it was impossible, yet the heat circulating between our bodies reached a new peak.
Still, I was lying to us both. As if I had never found myself on my knees before a man. As if I had never dreamed of surrendering control and seeing where I would be led. As if I didn't secretly wish to just give in to him and enjoy how he would take care of me, making every single decision for me.
He had already done it, and it had caught me completely off guard. What would it do to me if I completely let go and selfishly enjoyed what Gray had to offer?
In recent days, my thoughts had constantly revolved around it. Every little detail. All the conversations with him. With Manon. About Wilder's words. About my own feelings and about right and wrong. Why was I resisting what was happening between us?
Keeping him at a distance neither did me any good nor changed anything about the situation or the future. This attraction wouldn't fade, no matter what I told myself.
In the last few years, I hadn't put my wants or needs first. I had bent and broken my principles. I had fought for something that didn't exist and had pretended and adapted myself to someone who didn't deserve it.
Selfishness was rare for me, but when it came to Gray, I wanted to welcome it with open arms instead of continuing to deny something we both wanted and needed.
His mere presence taught me that there was no need to pretend and play a role just to be liked. And if I embraced him and this connection between us, it would confirm what he had believed and what he had seen in me from the start.
What if I'm only letting this happen because it's you, Gray? What if I want you to take the lead, take control, and everything that comes with it? What if I were to sink to the floor in front of you, nestle my face into your hand, and wait for whatever you've been imagining these past few days?
I swallowed. Again. "You hide it well; I have to hand it to you," I finally managed to say since he had left me without an answer. "But I like it when you take care of me."
His lips pressed warmly against my skin, trailing along the side of my neck. They almost made me forget where we were. "Then why not give me the chance to show you how well I can take care of you, Amelia?"
Gray had me. He had me right where he wanted me. At that point where my lips parted and the words he wanted and needed to hear were right on the tip of my tongue.
Not because he had persuaded me or even forced me. No. Deep down, it felt right. There was an absolute certainty that I could fall into him with my eyes closed.
Because he had proven that I could trust him. Because he had waited for me without pressuring me. And without making me feel like waiting had been a burden for him—and it hadn't been.
From the beginning, it hadn't been about ending up in bed, even if the attraction had been there from the first second.
"Show me," I whispered and caught the grin in his voice as he answered.
"Before I make sure your clever little mind stops interfering for a while, first, I want you to do what we're actually here for."
My mind was so clouded in a fog of desire that it took me a few seconds to realize that he meant the dessert for the barbecue.
If this was the way he'd motivate me from now on, I had no complaints—and plenty of reason to pretend I didn't want to do something in the future.
Gray released me, and I turned around so he could take a look at my face. The heat in my cheeks was hard to ignore, just like my eyes blazing with desire.
If he could make my knees go weak so effortlessly… what would it do to him if I showed him that my earlier statement wasn't just empty words?
"A part of me hates how little I can control the way you affect my body. If you don't stop…"
"What then?" he demanded to know, as if he hadn’t already guessed the answer.
I bit my lip. "I can't guarantee anything."
"Do you know how much I would enjoy seeing you on your knees before me? How much I want that?"
I slowly shook my head. "But I know I won't be making that dessert anymore if you keep talking."