Page 64 of Forgotten Dreams
Flipping the other pancake, I turn to look at him, seeing him wearing his boxers and nothing else. My mouth literally waters as I look at his body. “I’m going to romance the fuck out of you tonight.”
“Are you?” He turns and walks toward the coffee machine, and I admire his ass, which, besides his cock, might be my favorite part of him.
“I feel you staring at me,” he notes, not even turning around.
“I’m admiring the view.” I use his words back at him every time I catch him looking at me.
“If you stayed in bed, you could have admired it more closely,” he points out, and I shake my head, turning when I hear the oven timer beep.
“Bacon and sausage are ready.” I pull the dishes out of the oven and place them on top of the stove.
“Do you want scrambled eggs or poached?” I ask, and he shrugs. “That isn’t an answer, Caleb.”
“I’ll eat whatever you cook.” He takes a sip from the coffee, leaning back on the counter.
“That isn’t what I asked you,” I huff out. “Scrambled or poached?”
“If I had to choose”—he puts the mug down beside him—“I would pick scrambled.”
“Good.” I walk over to the fridge. “Was that so hard?”
“Yes,” he says. “Can I do anything to help?”
“Yes.” I look over at him as I grab a mixing bowl. “Go sit down.”
I motion with my head while I start preparing the eggs. “What are your plans for the day?” I ask him as I take a serving platter out and start putting everything on it.
“I’m off this weekend,” he tells me, “and I heard from a little bird that you are getting furniture today.”
“A little bird?”
“Theo,” he tells me, and I shake my head.
“Snitch,” I grumble under my breath. “So you are going to just stay here and wait with me.”
“I figured, if anything, we can keep each other busy.” I look over at him just in time to see the smirk and then his wink.
We sit side by side as we eat breakfast, and when I’m about to start cleaning up, he pushes me out of the kitchen. “The rule is the rule—you cook, I clean. Or if I cook, you clean.”
“But it’ll go faster if I help, and then we can keep each other busy.” I move my eyebrows up and down twice. “If you catch my drift.”
He laughs at me, holding my face in his hands and kissing my lips. “Go get ready for me.”
“What does that mean? Get ready for me?” I ask, trying not to smile big but failing. “Should I, like, get naked and take my toy out? Should I wait for you in the shower?”
“If you don’t get your ass out of this kitchen, I’m going to fuck you on this floor.” I look up to the side, thinking that I’ll win either way in that scenario. “Get upstairs.” He laughs. “It’ll take me no time at all since you like to clean as you go.”
“It’s easier,” I tell him, turning and walking toward the stairs. “I feel you staring.”
“Enjoying the view, baby,” he compliments, and I move his shirt higher, showing him my bare ass. “That ass is going to be red by the time I’m done with it.”
I literally stop in my tracks, turning on the bottom step and facing him, folding my arms under my chest. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Really?” He puts his hands on his hips. “Okay, then.” He smirks and turns around to walk back into the kitchen.
I’m making the bed when he comes into the room. He puts one hand on my hip and the other between my legs, and making the bed is a thing of the past.
“That,” I say, heaving, “might be the best sex I’ve had.” I’m on my stomach, looking over at him on his back, his hand on his chest as he looks at the ceiling.
