Eyes trained on the floor, she said, “I’ve had to learn the hard way that if something seems too good to be true, that’s because it is. And this”—those gorgeous hazel eyes peeked up—“this can’t be real because good things don’t happen to me.”
Stunned, I stared at her for a minute.
And then I remembered the cut marks on her upper thighs. She’d been in a dark place at one point in her life, and I was willing to bet whatever demons those scars represented were still lurking in her mind.
“Let’s eat.” I moved toward the discarded bag and set the contents on the counter before rummaging through the kitchen for utensils.
A disbelieving huff sounded behind me, but instead of arguing, Gemma parked herself on a stool along the partition between the kitchen and living room.
My sudden shift had been intentional, a way of steering her mind in a new direction.
If I’d learned anything from last night in my quest to make it past the door, it was that words and promises wouldn’t get me anywhere with Gemma. Proving myself through actions by being dependable and steadfast was the key to breaking past her defenses. I could be patient with her, knowing we had the rest of our lives to figure this out.
“I didn’t know what you like, so I got a little bit of everything,” I explained, pulling the lids off containers.
Gemma’s eyes widened, surveying the offering of various grilled meats and a selection of salad, pasta, and rice to place them on. “That’s a lot of food.”
“Whatever you don’t eat, I’ll polish off.”
“Seriously?” Both of her eyebrows rose. “This is enough to feed a family of six.”
Flashing her a grin, I winked. “Gotta keep up my energy. I’m a big guy.”
Under her breath, she muttered, “You can say that again.”
Fuck, if my male pride didn’t swell along with my dick when her eyes dipped to my crotch.
Folding my arms over the countertop that separated our bodies, I leaned closer to Gemma, my voice dropping an octave. “I really need that nap, Kitten, but if you keep staring at my cock with that hungry gleam in your eye, that’s not going to happen.”
Her mouth dropped open on an exhale, her pupils dilating at the thought of me fucking her again so soon after our marathon session last night.
Extending my hand, I cupped her jaw, dragging my thumb over that pillowy soft lower lip. Her pulse raced against where my fingers rested beneath her jaw, and her breathing hitched.
“So tempting,” I murmured.
When she sucked my thumb into her mouth, my knees threatened to buckle, imagining my cock in its place.
Gemma hummed, pursing her lips to draw the digit deeper.
A groan worked its way up my chest, and my grip on her face tightened. “You’re killing me, baby.”
Agonizingly slowly, she let my thumb slide free before shoving off the stool and rounding to my side of the partition.
“I’m starving, Sasha.”
My mouth went dry. This woman was on the prowl.
Clearing my throat did nothing to lessen my voice’s gravelly quality as I gestured to the food. “What do you want?”
Gemma’s gaze dropped, and she peeked at me through thick black lashes.
“You.”
When she sank to her knees before me, I was forced to grip the countertop to remain upright.
Swallowing, I tried to rein it in, but my cock had other plans. Hadn’t it gotten enough action to satisfy it last night? Or maybe it was just as obsessed with her as I was.
Her hands brushed the skin at my waistband, and I sucked in a sharp breath.
