EPOV
I lift my head slowly, hand reaching out for the spot next to me. It's empty, again, and I wonder if she left me again.
"It's okay, Sleeping Beauty. I'm still here." I hear her mocking tone before I see her. She chuckles before the mattress dips down on my right. It's like she can read my mind. Her hands reach for my face before she leans down and gives me a searing kiss. I want to linger but my stomach begs for attention.
When I turn my head, I smell something oddly delicious, and I have a crazy kind of appetite I have — then again, we did have a pretty active night.
"What's with the smell? Is that restaurant downstairs already open at this hour?" I hit her with a smirk but she rolls her eyes instead and slaps my shoulder. I know it's not the restaurant, but I want to rile her up a little.
"Dude, come on. I cooked for you. I never cook." She admits, looking cute as fuck and sexy and sin in my shirt from last night and her hair up in a messy bun. She's not wearing much else, since I can see her puckered nipples poke against the cotton, begging to be touched, licked, worshipped by me and her legs are bare except for the pair of tall, baby pink socks on her feet that hit her mid-calf.
"Why aren't you in bed with me, baby?" I find a loose strand of her dark hair and tuck it behind her ear. Her skin is warm, pink and perfect. She leans in to my hand and I feel like I'm a fucking LifeTime movie. This lovey-dovey shit doesn't happen to me — ever. I can't even believe I fucking like it, too.
"Because I had to pee, and because what being in bed with you leads to, Masen. As much as I like your cock, my pussy needs a breather." She jokes. I arch a brow at her, turning on my back and putting a hand behind my head. Her bed smells exactly like her, sweet and sinful. Addictive.
I stare at the cracked ceiling, wondering why the hell she wants to live in a place like this. Surely, she has money, when her parents are both dead. Yes, it's kind of morbid to think like that, but it's the truth. The two of us need to have a conversation about her past, maybe it'll make me see what didn't make her say 'yes' to my offer to take her away from here right away.
"You like my cock?" I challenge her. She bites her lips, and turns a little more red, patches of lovely rosy blush spreading over her cheekbones. "You fucking love my cock." I eye her suspiciously. I don't even know where the L-word came from. I never think or muse about love, and I don't talk about it — except with Alice, or when it's about Alice, about Persephone. Yet, this little New York damsel sitting on this bed makes my heart tremble and shake for her. It's almost frightening.
"You're right. I like you, but I absolutely adore and love your big, delicious, never satisfied cock." I know she's talking about my dick, but still, hearing those big words come out of her pouty, little mouth make me anxious — in a good way.
Surely we can't be in fucking love. We only just met, barely know a thing about each other. Then again, I basically want to drag her to Miami with me, stash her away and care for her. I don't know what's fucking wrong with me.
"So you like me enough to make me breakfast?" I ask her. Her deliciously flushed cheeks round out when she smiles. It looks like she's gained a little weight since that first time we met at AA. It looks fucking good on her, too, evens her out.
"Of course I do. I like you enough that you're still in my bed…" She trails off. She's so fucking beautiful I'm dubmfounded.
"I like you enough to be in your bed." I grin. She rolls deep brown eyes at me that have a twinkle in them. She looks… good, happy.
"Amongst other things, right?" She lets out a heartfelt laugh and I can't but join in. My dick is sensitive as fuck, I think he needs the day off, but when she's looking like that… I don't know if I'll be able to help myself.
"Come eat." She takes me hand and I look at her table. She's put out two plates, two mugs. It feels gloriously domestic. I pull on my boxers and take the three steps to the little table before I sit down.
I could get used to this.