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He obviously doesn’t know I have the stamina of a horse.
“I am,” I croaked, shifting in the bed. “But I need to shower. I need to get ready for my internship,” I sniggered.
I stroked my hand along his arm as it snaked around my waist and clasped my hand over his as I snuggled back into his embrace.
“The boss won’t mind,” he laughed.
“Oh. I know. But his employees will slut shame me if they knew I spent the night riding his dick and sucking him off.”
He lifted his head slightly and leaned on his arm, looking down at me. “Are you alright?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Hey?” he whispered, stroking my hair and turning my head towards him as he leaned over me. I looked at him, my eye make-up was smudged round my eyes. “Are you alright?” he asked again.
I nodded again.
“Yes, I’m good,” I shrugged. “It’s just post-sex aches.” I giggled. “I’ll take some paracetamol when I get up, no biggie.” I smiled and kissed him.
“I’ll get you it now, how about breakfast in bed before you go?” he asked, kissing me.
I stroked his beard, smiled and nodded.
“What do you like?” he asked.
“You cook?”
“I was married once upon a time, so yes, I could cook.”
“Oh,” I said and gulped. It wasn’t that I didn’t know, I just didn’t expect it to be said so blatantly.
“How about everyday we tell each other two things we didn’t know,” he suggested.
“Sure. You go first.”
“I have a tattoo,” he said, “it’s a statement my grandma use to say all the time.” As he mentioned his grandma, my mind trialed back to the conversations I had with his brother at Mara’s baby shower.
“What does it say and where is it?”
“It’s on my right bicep and it says pridie melius quam ultimo and it means…”
“The day ahead will always be better than the last,” they said in unison, their eyes meeting each others gaze.
“Wait, you speak Latin?” Dillon asked.
“I don’t but that’s a saying I say all the time. We have a lot more in common than we think,” I smiled.
“Yeah we do,” he agreed, “now tell me your two things.”
I thought long and hard about what I should tell him as anything I said would lead back to my traumatic past and that’s just too much for any of us to handle..
“I can’t cook at all. Not even soup, but I can bake.”
“I can teach you to cook and you teach me to bake. Deal?”
“Deal,” I smiled, “and as for breakfast, whatever gourmet delights you’ve got this morning are good with me,” I smiled sleepily.
He left the room and I started looking around. His house was clean and had the best smell. How much more attractive can he get?
