Page 51 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
He cracks a smile. “Liar.”
I stand from the chair with the bag clasped in my hands. “I don’t mind.”
“Why are you so perfect?” He pulls me in for a quick kiss on the lips.
I’m not perfect,” I snort, walking out in front of him as he holds the door open for me.
“That’s right, you’re definitely not. Your breath smells terrible in the mornings and you’re a monster without coffee.”
Hey!” I push him away from me on the sidewalk. He laughs, clutching his side.
“You’re the one who said you weren’t perfect. But don’t worry”—he grabs for my hand, pulling me in closer to him— “I love those things about you.”
“Oh, really, huh?” I’m doubtful, because who likes bad breath and he’s right—I’m a bitch without my coffee.
“Yup”—he says assuredly— “because it makes you who you are.”
“Are you trying to butter me up?” I accuse, squeezing his hand between mine. His palm is soft, the little hairs on his knuckles coarse.
His impish grin reminds me of a naughty child who knows they’ve been caught. “Is it working?”
“Perhaps.” I give a tiny shrug. “But the night is young.”
Jae swings open the door to his place, letting me inside first. Reaching in, he flicks the lights on, illuminating his apartment in brightness. The overhead lights are stark, bathing everything in a clinical hue.
To my left is the spacious modern kitchen complete with white cabinets and white countertops. In front of that is hisliving area with a sectional in front of a large flat screen over a fireplace—despite the fact we never need to turn it on. The view out the large floor to ceiling windows isn’t the best, but there is the barest hint of the ocean between buildings if you’re looking in the daylight.
Jameson shuts the door, engaging the alarm. I follow him into the kitchen where he places the to-go box on the island and pulls out two forks from the drawer. He holds one out to me, his lips quirked on one side in a tiny grin.
“Dessert?”
I take the fork from him, biting my lip. “I thought in the car you said I was the dessert tonight?”
“Oh, you are.” He slides his glasses up his nose and I have no idea how he makes that movement suggestive, but he does. “But are you really going to pass this up?”
He flips the lid open, revealing the Oreo cheesecake he ordered to take home with us. Licking my lips, I admit, “No, I can’t pass anything Oreo up.”
It’s my greatest weakness in life.
Digging the fork into the cheesecake, I bring the bite to my lips. The moan that leaves me as the flavor hits my tongue, sounds like pure sex, even though I don’t intentionally mean for it too.
His eyelids lower, watching me swirl my tongue around the tongs to lick it clean before going in for another bite.
“This is delicious.” I close my eyes, savoring the taste.
“It is.” His voice has gone deeper and gruffer than normal. When I open my eyes, I find that he hasn’t even taken a bite but is instead watching me eat the dessert.
I dig in for another bite. “Here, have some.”
I hold the fork out to him and he wraps his lips around it. “Good. But you taste better.”
He takes the fork from my hand, grinning at my open-mouthed expression, and tosses it in the sink with a clang. Closing the lid on the box, he shoves it in the fridge before returning and picking me up so my legs go around his waist.
I bite my lip, wiggling my hips against the erection straining against his pants.
“I wasn’t done with that,” I protest weakly.
He reaches around my body, supporting me with one hand to push open his bedroom door. “You are now.” He nips at my jaw, a playful bite that promises more to come.
