Page 27 of Kept By the Kraken

Chapter 15

Penelope

Idice up okra and place it in the growing pile we will add to the stew Bjorn started on the stove.

When we arrived back at the lighthouse after our underwater swim, Bjorn pulled up some of the traps he keeps near the house for dinner. We showered, where he did that thing with the gel and his tentacles that he swears is to help with soreness but really only makes me come. Then we gathered vegetables and herbs from his greenhouse.

This entire day has felt like a dream. Meeting his full kraken form and diving with him are experiences I can’t put into words. And even the simple things are totally different with Bjorn. The world here at the preserve and lighthouse is slower. I feel every moment instead of working on an endless to-do list. It’s living.

I left Daniel months ago, moving on and changing my life, but I don’t know that I’ve been doing much living. Even now, cooking, which was a major stress point in my marriage, feels easy. Like yesterday, Bjorn is teaching me with an openness that means I’m not afraid to get it wrong or question why we’re doing something.

“Is that enough?” I ask when I’ve made it through more than half our haul of veggies.

Bjorn grunts his approval and adds the vegetables to the fish stew, giving it a good stir. “Grab the flour and salt for me. In the pantry there.”

I gather the ingredients for the bread as he wipes down the counter. I set down the pile and look at him expectantly. He walks me through making the dough. His chest is at my back, his ocean smell between us, and his big hands brush mine as we mix the spices into the flour and add water. It’s sexy and comfortable at the same time, the smells of the kitchen mixing with his scent.

It feels like a home. Like it could be my home. He kisses along my neck, nursing his marks until I’m squirming against him and rubbing my ass against his cock.

“Behave,” he growls in my ear before sucking on the lobe.

The sound of his deep rumbly voice does nothing to deter me, and I grind against him again. He swats my ass with a flour-covered palm. I let out a shaky breath, squeezing my thighs together. I’m so fucking needy around this man. I can’t seem to help it. And the amazing thing is that I don’t have to.

Bjorn squeezes my hip and takes a step back.

“Like this,” he says, voice still husky and thick. He rolls out the dough, but all I can see is the way the muscles of his forearms flex and the firm grip of his hands.

I scrunch my nose into a pout. “You make it impossible to concentrate.”

His rich laugh rumbles between us.

I look up at him and lift my brows. “Just wait. I’ll figure out what drives you mad and return the favor.”

“No need for a science experiment. It’s you. You make me hard and my blood run hot.” He kisses me with a soft brush of lips.

When he pulls back, I swear my cheeks are on fire. I busy myself with rolling out the balls of dough we will fry in the pan.

He lets me recover from his general sexiness as he heats the iron skillet and adds a small amount of oil. “You’ve got this. I’m going to build the fire.”

I nod, trying to reassure us both.

Racking my brain for what he taught me yesterday, I take a deep breath and fry the first section of flat bread without fucking up. The next one I burn, but I simply toss it out and keep moving until I’ve amassed a plateful.

See, you got this.

I join him in the living room, brandishing the plate with a flourish.

“Perfect.” He takes the plate of flatbread and sets it on the blanket.

“Do you have any wine?”

“Only the moonshine. We can go to town tomorrow and gather some supplies and your things if you want.” He says the words quickly, his ears turning red.

He turns away and walks back toward the kitchen, but I catch up and tug on his arm. “Hey, big guy, slow down.”

He freezes but won’t turn to look at me.

I wrap myself around him from behind. “I don’t know what this all looks like, but we have time to figure it out. I’m not going anywhere.”

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