Page 57 of Heal Me

“This is a great song, and I want to dance with my boyfriend.” I rest my cheek against his temple. “Cooking can wait a minute.” He relaxes into my arms, and we move in a slow circle. “I’m having a wonderful afternoon with you. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m happy being anywhere with you,mon chéri.” Jocelin slides his fingers through my beard, scratching softly and swaying in my arms. “And it has been an amazing day.”

“What do you think of cooking so far?”

“It is actually kind of fun when done with someone else, especially a handsome someone.”

I brush the tip of my nose against his cheek. “Oh? Any handsome someone will do? I see.”

He tugs teasingly at my hair, and an unexpected rush of desire sweeps through me. Fuck. I guess I’m into hair pulling now. “Only incredibly gorgeous boyfriends who know how to cook—in and out of the kitchen.” He grins, obviously proud of himself, and I groan at the cheesiness.

“Joce, that was just awful.” I spin him toward the vegetables. “Finish chopping. No dessert until your chores are done.”

His head snaps to look at me. “There’s dessert?”

“Maybe. If you behave.” I smack him on the ass.

“Gunnar.” Jocelin nibbles a strawberry, slowly tracing his lips with the tip, staining them red with juice. “What would dessert be?” I can’t tear my eyes from his lips or his tongue as it licks at the juice.

“What do you want for dessert?” My voice is rough, my mouth dry, and other parts of my anatomy are very interested in his response.

His steady gaze as he bites into the fruit has my heart thundering in my chest. Confidence is sexy on him. “What are my options?”

He meets my eyes and slowly sucks the ripe berry into his mouth, red juice dribbling down his chin and fuck, I want to lick it up. “Whatever you want.”

Jocelin crooks a finger at me, and I move toward him as if under his spell, my attention focused on his lush, juice-drenched lips. I stop inches away, waiting for some kind of sign. The tension is palpable as he grabs the front of my shirt and closes the distance between us. His breath smells sweet with strawberries and red wine, and it’s intoxicating. “I want any number of things,mon beau.” He trails his fingers along my throat. “I want your hair longer so I can yank your head back and devour your neck.” My cock pulses against his hip, and I stifle a groan as he brushes the tip of my nose with his. “I want you to stop silencing your responses to me.” As if his words have given me permission, I moan audibly when his palm slides over my cock, squeezing firmly. “And I want you. On your knees. Your hot, wet mouth wrapped around my cock.”

I slide my arms around him, his lips devouring mine as I grind against his palm. Fuck, it’s so good, and I need more. I’m dizzy and achingly hard. “Whatever you want, babe. Anything.”

And then there’s space between us. Jocelin’s sweet mouth is gone, and I blink in confusion, barely containing a whimper of frustration.

He picks up the knife and turns back to me. “Well, we obviously have to finish dinner first. What’s the next step?”

I grip the edge of the counter, knuckles white, and breathe, trying to get control of my confused body. I desperately want to snatch the knife from his hand, bend him over the counter, and fuck him silly. Or let him bendmeover the counter. Either would do. After a few deep breaths, I step closer and lean in so my lips brush against his ear, my voice rough with lust. “That was just plain mean, Jocelin Allard. And you will pay for that later.”

His grin is wicked and absolutely stunning. “Promises, promises.” He gestures to the food on the counter. “Before things spoil, we probably should continue.”

With more control than I feel, I relax my shoulders and will my dick to take a time out. I can be patient, if the reward is worth it. And Jocelin is definitely worth it.

The next twenty minutes are a struggle. I can’t stop touching him, nuzzling his hair, or caressing some part of him. Dinner prep is the last thing I want to focus on, but I promised I’d teach him the recipe, so I do. “Now it all goes into the pot, we pour in the stock, and then let it simmer for a few hours until the meat becomes tender.”

Jocelin hasn’t struggled at all. His focus has been on cooking, and I’m caught between admiration and annoyance. He pours in the stock and turns to me. “And that’s it?”

“That’s it. You’ve made dinner. What do you think?”

He beams. “That wasn’t difficult at all.”

“Told you. Cooking doesn’t have to be difficult. Next thing you know, you’ll be in Bjorn’s kitchen, making all kinds of fancy dishes for Sunday dinner.”

Jocelin laughs. “No, I don’t think that will be happening. I like cooking withyou. I’m still not sure I’m fond of cooking in general. Takeout is easier.”

We wander into the living room, leaving cleanup for later. “It’ll be a few hours until dinner. And I think there were a few things you mentioned wanting.” I pull him against me, nuzzling into his neck.

Jocelin groans and leans into me. “I love when you do that. Your beard feels so good against my skin.”

I rub his cock through his jeans and feel him hardening beneath my palm. I love how quickly he responds to my touch. “Mmm. That’s good to know. Should I keep doing this, or should I move on to something else?”

He tilts his head to the side, his mouth falling open in a soft gasp. “Like what?”

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