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“Should I return the favour?” I fidgeted and gestured at his obvious erection.
That’s what people did, right?
He grinned at me. “No.”
“Really? Don’t men do that to get their dick sucked?”
Wasn’t that how it worked? I had no frame of reference for this… this? Whatever this was between us.
He frowned. “When you suck my cock, it’ll be because you are desperate to taste me and not to return a favour. I’ve told you before that our relationship is not transactional.”
I didn’t know what to say. No one had ever eaten me out. And without some form of payback, I didn’t like the feelings that were brought up. I pulled my knees up and hugged them.
He turned to pull his trousers on, and I gasped. His back was a mess of thin scars. Old wounds littered the powerful lines of his back, some puckered and jagged.
“What happened?” I asked as he shrugged his shirt on.
“People tried to kill me,” he said matter-of-factly, buttoning the crumpled material.
“Why?”
“Does it matter? They failed.”
I fought the desire to rush over and hold him. My stomach churned at the idea of all those wounds. Did they all happen at once or in multiple attacks?
“Let’s get some breakfast,” he said.
I jolted out of my morbid thoughts as I remembered the dusty cereal in my cupboard and the fact we’d run out of milk.
“I don’t have anything,” I admitted.
“Craig has picked up food.” Sean grabbed his phone from the dresser and pulled his gun from under the pillow.
Still naked, I walked across the room to my dresser. There was no point in being shy. I picked underwear, leggings, and a T-shirt and pulled them on under his watchful gaze.
We walked into the main room and saw Cat emptying bags of food to create a considerable breakfast spread on our small table.
“A big blond guy dropped these off. He said he couldn’t stay, but they were from you,” Cat addressed Sean.
“Damn right he can’t stay. He’s got a job to do,” Sean said.
“You ordered all of this?” I asked him.
“You needed something after all the champagne last night.”
Cat glanced at me, smirking and filling her plate with pastries. “Thanks. We usually eat cereal.”
She was wearing her carer uniform for her shift today. She grabbed a coffee and settled on the beanbag in the corner. I felt her curious eyes on us as Sean filled a plate for me, then insisted I sit between his legs on the couch.
“What are you guys doing today?” she asked, taking a bite from a flaky pastry and closing her eyes in delight.
“I’m supposed to be working.” I nudged my croissant across the plate.
Sean grabbed it and tore off a strip, holding it up to my mouth. The attention made the naive little girl inside me swoon.
“You’re spending the day with me. I sorted it with Kia.”
“Are you her boss?” Cat said, pausing with her coffee halfway to her mouth.
