Chapter 25
Morgan
"It's just a breakfast date," I mutter, trying to get better control of a rogue strand of hair that just will not cooperate this morning. "Can't even call it a date since we're living in the same damn house."
After trying to get it to lie down the way I like for what seems like the millionth time, I press frustrated hands to the bathroom counter and stare at myself in the mirror. My cheeks have been flushed, and my heart has been racing since I got the early morning text from Robert asking me to meet him in the kitchen for breakfast.
I can't recall the last time I got this excited to meet up with a guy. I'm usually a jump in bed with someone and not worry what the next day looks like kind of girl. I can say that I'm grateful he's taking it slow and sort of forcing us to get to know each other before we take that step.
It hasn't left me any less sexually frustrated, especially after yesterday in his bedroom, but the change of pace is actually nicer than I thought it was when he pumped the brakes several days ago. I still fought against slinking into his bedroom after the sun went down and the house got quiet.
I've always hated Monday mornings, but today, it seems like that feeling is ten times worse. I don't want to leave the house or face people outside of this place, but I know I can't call in or just not show up either. My goal has always been my trip to Europe, but now, even the idea of it has lost its luster. I don't know if it's because my life is taking a different path or if I'm subconsciously afraid to travel alone after what happened to Kaylee at my house.
I glance down at my watch for the millionth time, wondering how only a few minutes have passed since I looked at it earlier. The time spent waiting to meet him this morning has just been crawling by, a stark contrast to how fast our time goes when we're together.
I pull in a deep breath and push myself off the counter. I'm a punctual person, so I guess there's no harm in going down a little early.
I grab my cell phone and purse, knowing I won't be back upstairs before heading for work, and I leave the bedroom.
My feet urge me to move faster, and I physically have to fight my body not to run down the stairs and directly into the kitchen. I feel like a schoolgirl with a crush, hurrying to class just so I can watch him from across the room.
Despite being early, Robert is in the kitchen, standing at the stove.
Sensing me, he gives me a quick look over his shoulder, a slow smile spreading across his face when his eyes dip before trailing up the length of my body. My outfit is very demure. My dress hits me at my knees, and despite the vee at my throat, it doesn't drop low enough to hint at cleavage. However, it doesn't seem to keep his imagination from working.
"Good morning," he says, his voice gravelly as if it's the first words he's used since waking up.
"Hey," I say, suddenly nervous, although I wouldn't hesitate to wrap my legs around his waist if he gave me the option.
"Did you sleep well?"
I nod, chewing the inside of my cheek to keep from telling him I wouldn't have minded losing sleep had he come to my room. The glint in his eyes as his smile spreads tells me he understands without the words falling from my lips.
I watch, enthralled by the smooth movements of his body, as he walks toward me. I don't know where my shyness comes from, but I become a little nervous as he steps up in front of me.
As if he bore witness to my struggle with that one strand of hair this morning, he brushes it back behind my ear, his eyes locked on my mouth.
I pull in a breath, feeling the urge to speak to ease the anxiety I'm feeling, but before I can, he lowers his mouth to mine. His lips are warm and soft and everything I've wanted since our kiss in his bedroom yesterday afternoon.
My lips part, giving him access to my mouth, and he doesn't squander the opportunity to swipe his tongue along mine. I melt into this man, giving him more of my weight as his left arm wraps around my back, his right hand cupping my jaw.
The intimacy of his touch makes me ache, a need rising up that I'd gladly feed right in the middle of this kitchen if he even so much as hinted that it's the same thing he wants.
The kiss ends long before I want it to, but his eyes stay locked on my mouth for long seconds.
I'm thoroughly seduced, ready to give him anything he asks for. From the way his growing erection is pressing against my lower belly, I get the sense that he'd just as easily give in to those carnal urges if I pressed the issue.
Instead of taking a step back, he presses against me harder, my hips circling with an urgency I feel bone-deep.
"Robert," I whisper, wanting and needing more.
He responds by dropping his mouth to mine once more, the softness in his touch on my face transitioning until he has most of my hair in his hand at the base of my skull. His grip tightens, giving him the power to tilt my head back exactly how he wants it. There's just something about relinquishing that power to him that makes me squirm in his embrace.
His mouth is magic, his lips against mine, something I never knew I needed until I experienced it.
This second kiss ends much too soon, just as the first one did, and my eyes stay locked on his damp lips. I fight a moan when his tongue sneaks out and traces the lower curve of his mouth. I want those lips tracing, exploring, and memorizing every inch of my body, and then I want to give the same in return.
"We were interrupted yesterday," he whispers, the warmth of his breath coated with the sweetness of the coffee he's already drank this morning.
"We were," I quickly agree, my hands on his hips, clinching his t-shirt.
"I wish I would've asked you to stay," he confesses, his body still pressed to mine.
I'm so very aware of every inch of him, and it takes more strength than I feel like I have to keep from reaching down much the same way I did yesterday and running my hand along the length of his erection.
But I follow his lead, keeping my hands on his hips because he's making no move to lift my dress and sink his fingers inside of me, although that's exactly what my body is craving right now.
"What would've happened if I stayed?" I ask, pulling my eyes from his lips and lifting them to his gaze.
His smile is slow, more of a seduction than I've gotten from fully naked men in the past, and it forces another wave of cold chills up my spine. His eyes hold so many promises, and it's almost enough to make me skip work so I can spend the day in his arms, living out every fantasy I never knew to ask for with this man.
A niggle of frustration grows inside of me when his smile continues without further explanation. My mind is wild with scenarios, and I know that him just speaking them out loud would rile me up enough to get me on my back, but I don't think that's his ultimate plan. He's simply living in this moment with me, not purposely leaving me frustrated and a little annoyed. I have to remind myself that he's unlike any other man I've come in contact with. He's not the type to make promises he won't later bring to life.
"Maybe a do-over?" I suggest, once again, rolling my body against his, not as a tease but because I just can't seem to help myself.
"It left my hair greasy and stains on my clothes," he says, his smile wide, eyes sparkling as if he has yet to entirely toss the idea.
"We can do it without the oil," I offer. "We can just pick up where we left off. I'm slick enough for the both of us."
His groan with my confession bounces around the room, giving me the bravery I've been searching for since walking into the room.
I release his shirt, running my hand down the front of his abs, all the while doing my best not to whimper at the feel of his muscles under my fingertips.
As if choreographed and rehearsed for weeks, he stops my hand just as my touch brushes the top of his pajama pants. I don't miss the way my fingers trail over the top of his erection before he stops me.
"This is not the place for that," he says, but his voice is husky and filled with as much need as I feel.
"We can go back to your room."
"We can't."
"My room then," I offer with a coy smile.
His laughter swirls around us as his head tilts back, eyes pointing at the ceiling.
"I want you so badly," I confess, wondering if it sounds as desperate to his ears as it does my own.
"And I want you," he says, his chin curling downward as he locks his eyes on mine. "Soon."
The one-word promise makes me want to stomp my feet and throw a tantrum like a toddler not getting her way. I fight the urge, but barely.
"We've used up all of our time for breakfast," he says, giving my captured hand a final squeeze before stepping back.
I didn't realize how warm he was against me until he took a step back, and the cool air in the room replaced his body heat.
"I can make you a coffee, though."
I stand to the side, biting my lip and watching his muscles work as the man makes me a travel mug full of coffee the exact same way I would've made it for myself. His attention to detail has to be one of the sexiest things about him. Paying attention to me and the things I like is the ultimate power move. It makes me feel seen and makes every single man I've had in my life prior to this moment a distant memory.
My eyes sting with unshed tears when he turns back around, placing the lid on the cup before offering it to me.
Attuned to my emotions, he frowns.
"Did I make it wrong?"
I shake my head, words failing me in this moment as I blink up at him, praying I don't embarrass myself.
"Hey," he says, placing the cup on the counter before curling a finger under my chin and angling my face up so I'm looking directly into his eyes. "Tell me what's wrong, and I'll fix it."
"Are you actually this perfect?" I manage.
"It's just coffee, sweetheart."
I shake my head again. "It's not just coffee."
He pulls me into his chest, and I don't hesitate to bury my face in his t-shirt, my hands clinging to him in fear that the tides will change and this man will disappear from my life. I should probably be freaking out with how easily he has become the only thing I can seem to manage in my brain, but with his scent enveloping me and his warm arms around me, it feels like the man was heaven-sent and made just for me.
"If you get this emotional over coffee, wait until you see what I can do with my tongue."
I huff a laugh, pulling my head back and swatting at his chest.
"You're so bad."
"You love it," he says, his voice indicative of more than just teasing.
"Ready to head to work?"
Robert doesn't pull back at the sound of Bandera's voice. He doesn't seem rushed or embarrassed by our embrace being witnessed by someone else. I can see in his eyes as he continues to look down at me that he's exactly where he wants to be.
"Have a good day," he says a second before leaning down and brushing his lips over mine.
"You too," I manage when he steps back. I grab the coffee he made for me.
Bandera doesn't mention what he witnessed when he drives me to work.