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“Ah, babe. I burn lots of calories skating.”
She laughs. “Well, I can’t keep eating the same stuff as you, because I don’t burn lots of calories skating.”
I give her a look of mock confusion before she turns back to her cookbook. “Let’s see…how can you burn lots of calories without even leaving the apartment? Maybe something where you use all your muscle groups and it’s so much fun, you don’t even realize that it’s exercise?”
“Stop teasing me.”
I spread my arms out wide. “How am I teasing you?”
“Well for one thing, look at you.” Reese looks up from the recipe and gives me a once over. “You’re wearing boxer briefs and nothing else.”
I approach her from behind, sliding a hand beneath the baggy sweatshirt she likes to sleep braless in. She moans softly and leans her head back against my chest as I run my fingertips up the warm skin on her spine.
“Feel good?” I say in her ear.
“Mmm, so good.”
Since our first official date a few weeks ago, Reese and I have been together all the time unless one or both of us is working. She stayed at my place one night, but I like to stay at hers because she cooks for me and her bed sheets smell like her.
We haven’t talked about whether we’re in a relationship, because I know that’ll freak her out and she’ll probably retreat if that happens. I don’t care whether it’s called a relationship or not, because what we have going now is exactly what I want, even without the label.
I’ve always assumed from the moans and groans of women I’m with that what I’m doing must feel good. But with Reese, for the first time, I want to ask. I want to hear her tell me what feels the best and how she most likes to be touched and kissed.
There’s been lots of touching and kissing the past couple weeks, and more than a few orgasms, but we still haven’t had actual sex. I’m pretty sure that’ll freak Reese out, too, and I’m more than happy to show her how much I love eating her pussy by doing it every morning we’re together.
My hands travel from her back to her front, still beneath her sweatshirt. Her smooth, warm skin makes my cock stiffen against the small of her back. I tweak her nipples with my thumbs and forefingers and the wooden spoon falls from her hand, bouncing off the island before hitting the floor.
“Oh, Knox,” she says in a breathy tone.
Nothing works me up like the way she says my name when she’s turned on. I’m completely hard now, as she must know since she’s pressing back against me. I slide one hand down the front of the little black cotton shorts she’s wearing with no panties, finding her wet when I slip a finger inside her.
Things are about to get really good when out of nowhere, “The Imperial March” from Star Wars starts blaring. Reese jumps and looks across the room, where her phone is sitting on the other side of the kitchen counter playing the song as a ringtone.
“No,” she says softly, shaking her head and cringing.
I remove my hands from her body and put them back at my sides, the mood shifted from sexy to something I’m not sure of…but I know I don’t like it.
“What is it?” I ask Reese as the song keeps playing.
“Eric. I haven’t talk to him since…”
I’m fucking pissed. How dare he call her, after what he did? She’s finally in a good place, and this call might set her back. It might set us back. I stalk around to the other side of the counter and pick up her phone, sliding my finger across the screen to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Oh…” A douchey male voice says. “I guess I have the wrong number.”
“Are you looking for my girlfriend? Reese?” I play it cool, though it’s hard as hell.
“I…yeah, I guess I am.”
“And you are?”
“Eric Darnell.”
“Eric?” I pretend I’m just figuring out who he is. “Are you that asshole who screwed her over at the altar? The one who fucked her ugly-ass friends?”
There’s silence on the other end of the line.
“I take that as a yes,” I say.
“Can I just talk to Reese?” he asks flatly.
“Fuck no, you can’t.” I go into the living room, pacing like a caged lion. “Do you know who I am, Eric?”
“You already said.” His voice drips with sarcasm. “You’re her boyfriend.”
“Yeah, I am, but I’m also an enforcer for the Chicago Blaze. You know what that means, don’t you? It means I beat the asses of guys who are more man than you’ll ever be for a living. I’ve broken jaws, Eric. I draw blood on the regular. I once did some serious damage to a guy’s ball sac.” I let that sink in for a couple seconds before asking, “Do you still want to talk to Reese?”
