Page 20 of Say Yes to the Chef

He arches one eyebrow, a silent question in his eyes.

My answer is the same now as it was last night.

Yes. So much yes. I want this man inside me. Filling me. Stretching me to the point that I can’t tell where pain stops and pleasure starts.

Where he ends and I begin.

I want to feel him. Feel us.

Feeleverything.

I reach up and cup his face. “We’re going to need more condoms.”

His eyes flash with a wicked gleam, then he rocks his hips forward and I tilt my head back, moaning at the heat rushing through my body toward our connection. He does this again and again, rocking against me until I’m writhing beneath him, bringing me to the edge with just the friction of our bodies against one another.

I wrap my legs around his waist, dig my hands into his biceps, and call out his name as my body shakes and I come without penetration at all. Marco follows closely behind me, arms tensing and eyes closing as his body goes rigid and he spurts his release onto my lower belly.

After a long stretch of silence, Marco says, “I have to play Santa.”

My eyes fly open. “What?”

He smirks, then rolls off of me, using a hand towel he grabbed from the bathroom earlier to clean my stomach, then wipe himself off. He tosses it toward the bathroom, then flips over onto his side and props himself on his eyebrow. “Tomorrow, for Christmas, I have to play Santa for the kids.”

I bite down on my bottom lip as I imagine this absolutelywickedlyhandsome man playing an old, gray-haired, bearded Santa Claus.

I reach over and scratch my nails over the ridges of his abs. “This isn’t much like a bowl full of jelly.”

He laughs and I find myself holding my breath, enraptured by the deep rumble.

“Can I see you?” he asks when he stops laughing. “Afterwards?”

I lick my lips, searching his eyes. “You want to see me again?”

Marco’s smile falls and he sits up to look down at me. “Is that a serious question?”

My pulse kicks up and I push up onto my elbows. “Yes… why?”

“Adrienne…” He runs both hands through his hair, then pushes off the bed and stands. With his hands laced behind his head, he faces away from me for a moment, that firm ass on display, then he turns around quickly and looks at me with an incredulous expression. “Is it not obvious?”

I lift my eyebrows. He’s going to have to clarify.

“The only reason I’m going to leave this room again is because I worked my ass off to get this job and I can’t fuck it up.”

He strides back to the bed and leans over me, caging me within his arms. “But you should know that I am having a very difficult time even making that distinction when all I want is to bury myself inside of you again and pull those fucking sounds from your perfect lips.”

My mouth falls open on a soft gasp and his nostrils flare.

“Yes, those sounds.” He mutters something in Spanish, then shakes his head. “Adrienne, if you’ll allow it, I want to spend the week with you.”

I suck in a breath as heat floods my cheeks. “Marco, I…” I swallow hard as emotion tightens my throat. “I just thought this was a—”

He sighs and his shoulders fall, then he drops his head and closes his eyes. After a tense few seconds, he gives a curt nod, then pushes back up and places his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry. I misread this. Of course you thought it was just a one-night stand.” He runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I’m an idiot.”

I scoff, then quickly cover my mouth. “Marco, yes, you have definitely misunderstood.”

His face falls and I hurry to stand, slinking my arms around his waist and pressing our naked bodies close as I look up to him. “You misunderstood my misunderstanding.”

His brows furrow, but he wraps his arms around me anyway, still unable to keep his hands from skimming over my back, my shoulders.