Page 97 of All We Need

“So…a blindfold?”Boothmumbles sleepily between my boobs.Afterhe fucked me into oblivion, we cleaned up and dragged ourselves back to bed.Ididn’t have the energy to get angry about my shredded lace body suit.Becausewho could get mad about that? “Careto share with the class where that idea came from?”

I bite down on my lip.

His ego couldn’t handle the knowledge thatIused the blindfold because of the sordid dreamIhad about him in the cabin.

I pretend to be asleep, which doesn’t last long when he dives under the covers and nibbles a path from my hip to my belly button.

“Booth!Cutit!”Isqueal asIattempt to pry myself from his clutches.

“Don’t lie to me,Silv.”Hesucks at the skin above my navel.Myonly view is his mop of chocolate waves as he lies between my legs, teasing me. “Butif you tell me you’ve done that with another man,Ican’t be held accountable for my actions.”

Snorting,Ishove at his head. “Andwhat ifIhave?”

His head snaps up, eyes blazing.

I poke my index fingers into his cheeks, forcing his dimples out. “Andyou accuse me of being jealous.”

He growls before pressing his face to my stomach again. “You’remean.”

“I know,”Iquip.

“I like it,” he mumbles.

“I know that too.”

He looks back up, his envy gone as he studies me carefully, fingers absently tracing the dip of my waist.It’sat that moment my hunger decides to make itself known.

His eyes light up.Starknaked, he runs out of my bedroom, shouting, “Don’tmove!” over his shoulder.

My question about what the heck he’s doing is answered whenIhear the refrigerator opening and the beep of the oven.

“Combineeverythingyou say?” he hollers through my apartment.

There’s no containing my delighted smile. “Yes!Sprinkleit with cinnamon and then add the orzo after forty-five minutes.Thenbake for another ten.”

Despite the clatter coming from my kitchen,Idoze off.Thesmell of my mother’s home cooking rouses me, andIwake to find an overjoyedBoothbeaming down at me, a hearty bowl of youvetsi in his hand with two spoons.

“Time to eat, beautiful.”Hisgentle voice, along with his gentler touch, keeps me locked in a sleepy haze.Stillnaked,Ituck the comforter around my chest as he helps me into a sitting position.Ireach for the bowl, but he shakes his head. “Letme.”I’mabout to argue when he reaches out and presses his fingers to my furrowed brow. “C’mon, let me look after you.”

Drip, drip, drip,with each sweet and thoughtful gesture, my resolve melts away.

His whole body glows with happiness when he seesI’mnot going to fight him.Withassured movements, he scoops upsome orzo and chicken and guides the steaming food into my mouth.Hewatches me intensely.AsIwrap my lips around the spoon, asIslowly chew and swallow, and especially when my moan of indulgence echoes through the room.

The act of it all is oddly erotic, comforting, and intimate.Silently, he feeds me, stealing himself a bite every so often until the bowl is empty.

“Well…” he says coyly, breaking the silence as he places the dish on my bedside table. “Howwas it?”

Reaching out,Iswipe a smudge of red from the corner of his mouth.Lipstickor tomato sauce, who knows. “Itwas delicious.”Hischeeks darken at my compliment.

He doesn’t make a bold joke.Instead, he shuffles under the covers with me and resumes his position, hard, warm body splayed out on top of mine with his chin resting on my stomach.

That’s where we stay, chatting and napping.Thepast few hours has left me feeling full, not of food, but feelings.Someconfusing, but most satisfying.

The light stubble on his chin scratches my skin and the fullness remains.ButasIwatch him, watching me, determination takes root.

Determination to do whatIcame here to do.Determinationto accept whatever outcome unfolds from my time inSuttonBay.Determinationto open up to him.

“What are you thinking, beautiful?”Myinsides light up at his husky voice, weighted in sleep.

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