Page 18 of You've Got The Love
“I knew it! I could smell it. Anything else you want to borrow? I mean, you just help yourself anyway.”
“Now now, children. Let’s not argue. I’m going to leave you two to your lovers’ tiff. Glad you are okay, Bell. I’ll pass everything on to Bea and Lauren for you. FYI, Bea was NOT okay when I explained what was happening, but when she knew you were with Bas, she calmed a little. Keep in touch. Gotta go. Love you, babe,” Jess says and ends her call before I can reply.
Laughing as I think about Jess and her antics, I finish off oiling my hair, because I really don’t want to be Ms Fuzzy Fuzzball around Bas.
“She’s got a way about her, that girl,” Bas laughs, filling the silence.
“I’m sorry I used your stuff; I was in a rush and mine was in here. I’ll buy you refills of everything, I promise. But I actually blame you for having a bathroom that big. It’s the size of my living room at home. If I were at home, I could have gotten my toiletries in about three steps.”
“Bigger is always better, right? And there is no need to buy me refills, it's no big deal. Please just use what you need,” he replies before he leaves the room, leaving me hoping he doesn’t read too much into Jess’ words.
I finish pinning up my hair because Bas may have lush shampoo, conditioner, and hair oil, but he doesn’t have a hair dryer. I look in the mirror and have to laugh. I look absolutely ridiculous. I’ve rolled up his pyjama trousers about six times, so they are at my ankles, and I’ve used a hair tie to try to cinch the waist in. And I could wear his t-shirt as a dress, it’s that long. I’m not wearing any underwearagain because, one, I’m pretty sure he noticed this morning that I was bare under his t-shirt, so I want to test that theory—and his restraint—again, and two, I like knowing it's his clothes rubbing against me in all the best places.
I smooth out the bed where I’d sat on it, grab the pile of clothes from the bathroom and go in search of a washing machine.
“Bas?”
“Yeah?” He shouts from somewhere above me, making me frown and look up.
“Where are you?”
“I’ll be down in a sec,” he tells me, making me want to know what’s up there. Stupidly, I hadn’t even considered an upstairs, but of course there’s one.It’s a bloody windmill.
I walk into the kitchen and start to open every cupboard door under the countertop to see if it’s a built-in washing machine, but as I open the last one, my search comes up empty. He must have it in a separate room somewhere. I decide to make a cuppa while I wait for him, as I don’t want to go snooping around his home. I mean, I do, I really really do, but I have to show some self-control. It took everything in me last night not to open his bedside drawers; I had to literally lie on my hands at one point. I’d love to know what he keeps in his drawers. It’s probably different to the contents of mine; lip balm, hair ties, cotton pads, Q-tips, nail files, and a purple curved, G-spotRampant Rabbitvibrator.
“And what has caused your cheeks to heat likethat, Little Miss Bell?”
“Bastiaan! You scared me half to death.Again. I swear you enjoy doing it,” I scold him.
“No swerving the question. Why are you all red? Even your ears are glowing.”
“None of your beeswax,” I tell him, and poke out my tongue in an exceptionally mature way.
“Come on, Bell, spill,” he demands. He’s lended back against the sink, arms crossed over his chest, with that smile on his face, dimple and all. My God, he’ssosexy.
“No. Where is your washing machine, please?” I ask, willing my red face and ears to bugger off.
“Na-ah. What’s causing the redness, and why won't you tell me?” He starts to get closer and closer, backing me up.
“Don’t you even think about tickling me again, I almost died last time!”
“Died? You are so fucking adorable.”
Bas calling me that stops me dead. He thinks I’m adorable. He called me beautiful yesterday, too.
We just stand smiling at each other, like we are rooted to the ground. Just fixed in place, and all we can do is look at each other. My chest is rising and falling as I try to take in enough air, and the butterflies that have lived in my stomach since I first met this gorgeous Dutchman take flight, making me feel almost giddy.
One minute we are looking into each other's eyes, his pale blue to my dark blue, and the next he slides his hand around the nape of my neck to pull me to him, and his lips are on mine. My eyes drift closed as I savour this moment.A moment I’ve dreamed about, fantasised about. The kiss starts out soft, and I place my hands on his chest, feeling the warm, solid wall of muscle before I skim my hands down over his equally hard stomach muscles and around his sides to grip his back. I feel his lips part and his tongue lick gently at my lower lip, making me instantly open my mouth for him. We gently swirl our tongues together, and he moves his hands to my lower back, gripping into my flesh. Pulling me deep into his body, he clutches me tightly, and I can’t help but let out a moan as I feel his hard dick press into my stomach. Holy fuck, his dick isbig. He grabs my arse cheeks and hoists me up onto the kitchen island without breaking our kiss, which is beginning to get out of control. He slides me to the edge of the countertop and presses against me hard. I moan again as his denim-covered cock feels incredible, especially as I only have a fragile layer of cotton covering me.
As I begin sucking on his tongue, I hear a noise that sounds so out of place here in my passion-filled fog, but it just disappears into heavenly silence once again. The only noise is the smacking of lips as we kiss and fabric rubbing against fabric.
The noise starts again, and Bas pulls away suddenly as a shot of cold air hits my overheated body where he was pressed just seconds ago. I blink up at him, panting, my gaze fixed on his swollen lips, when the sound finally registers.
“My phone…”
I jump off the side and run to the bedroom where I left it plugged in, charging.
“Hello?” I pant as I sit on the bed.
