AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Because I had no clue Thorn likes plants.
Like, his living room is simple enough. A nice warm space with a terracotta shade couch, a wooden sideboard, matching coffee table, and all those other normal things normal people have. Except the entire place is covered in green.
Not just green. Endless shades of green weave around the room as sunlight dances on them from a large window to our left.
I look up at him, and he shuffles, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs as his gaze flicks around the room. I fucking love that I can tell what he’s thinking now. It took me a month or two to get used to all his tiny facial expressions and actions, and there’s a lot I'm still figuring out. But the corners of his lips rise and fall a touch as he looks at me for approval.
I know he’s trying to figure out if anything’s wrong. And I bloody adore the fact my boyfriend is proud of the giant trellis dominating the wall behind the sofa, covered in vines that bloom with delicate purple flowers. That a sea of macrame pots with spider plants hanging from the ceiling like floating islands is ‘a bit messy’. Or that every surface is loaded with different plants in pots that match the sofa, from huge bushy things to minute bubbly ones I could hold between my fingers might be a problem. Or even that there’s a giant fucking palm tree scraping the high ceiling, casually tucked in the corner behind his TV.
“Wow, this is just… It’s amazing,” I say, drinking it all in. I reach for his hand instantly. There’s not a single chance I'm letting him think there’s anything wrong with this. “It’s perfection.”
I'm so tempted to tease him, wind him up so I can push him onto his plush sofa and make him moan. I’m so ready for it, and, goddamn, do I like making him squirm. But the moment’s too tense to try it on. It’s one of those moments that can make or break the evening. We've had so many awkward conversations since we first started dating, and it's taken us time to find our balance. I'm not letting the dickhead side of my personality get in the way.
Thorn gives me a hard nod as I look up at him again. He’s gazing at me with his shiny-eyed look that means he’s so fucking happy he doesn’t know what to do with himself. I’m making a vow right now that I’m going to bring him flowers every time I see him.
I told myself to give him space and make him comfortable, but I can’t do it when his fingers are squeezing me like he does whenever he needs reassurance.
I lean into him, bringing my free hand up to his neck, burying my fingers in his smooth brown hair so I can lower him down to me. He lets out a tiny gasp of surprise, then instantly relaxes as I gently kiss him. “I mean it, Thorn,” I say against his lips. “It’s beautiful.”
He sighs, relaxing more than I thought he might in the first five minutes, and I grin as I nudge his nose with mine. I’m about to tell him there is absolutely no way we aren’t ending the night with his cock inside me, but a ding comes from a doorway to my left.
His hands drop as he jumps back. “I’m sorry,” he says breathlessly, his bottom lip plump and pink, ready to taste in a way that drives me absolutely insane whenever we’re together. “I haven’t finished cooking.”
A burst of joy bubbles up through me and I laugh, the sound beating out of my chest, my hand twitching over the back of his neck.
“You’re cooking!? Really?” I can’t even remember the last time someone actually wanted to cook for me.
A cloud rushes over his face, and the proud Thorn disappears as I fuck up again. I don't want to be the one to take away his smile, not anymore.
I need to remember how huge this is for him, how huge it is for both of us.
“That’s just amazing, Thorn,” I say with a happy sigh. “Do you know how special that is to me?” I step in closer, rising to the balls of my feet to properly stroke his hair, nearly melting at the way he bends to my touch.
“Come on, tell me what you’re making,” I say softly, my fingers dancing along the shell of his ear. I grin as his eyes flutter closed.
There's a pause and another little blush fans across his cheeks.
“Baked squid frittata from La Boqueria,” he mumbles, as I lower myself. “I've tried to make it authentic for you.”
I pause, searching his face. The last time I was in La Boqueria market was two years ago on a shoot in Barcelona. And I haven’t found a place that's done it quite right since. Though I've never told him that.
He opens his eyes, staring at me intensely as a teasing tone enters my voice. “Thorn, baby, how do you know that’s my favourite food?”
He clears his throat as he straightens, the pink of his cheeks deepening to red as his chin dips, trying to hide from me. But he’s so tall it doesn’t work, and just makes my grin wider.
“Well, you posted it online a while ago,” he mutters.
I’m trying to think back to the last time I actually posted anything. I gave up my account ages ago and let my manager run it now. All she does is stick up sexy pictures of me, which isn't exactly hard.
It must have been fucking years. So, how did he find out about it?
Before I can ask, Thorn’s eyebrows shoot up, and he blinks heavily, his chest expanding as he sucks in a harsh breath. He steps out of my arms, dragging his gaze to the kitchen.
“I have to check on the food,” he says, spinning and shooting off through the door, and I sigh as he vanishes.
I mean, yeah, it stings when he does it, but thank fuck I know why. I used to get so offended when he ran away from me until a couple of months ago. But knowing your boyfriend is so attracted to you that he needs space to process is a total head rush.
Besides, every time we fuck afterwards, he’s usually ten times hornier because he’s had time to prepare. One of the few things I expect whenever we meet is that he'll bolt at least once. And he always comes back if I give him time.
