22
Weston comes bearing gifts: a bottle of red wine, a box of donuts, and a bag full of toys.
“Oh, you didn’t have to,” I say as he hands me the goods. “Thank you so much.”
I leave the bag of toys in the living room, and take the wine and donuts to the kitchen. Ethan makes a sudden appearance, all smiles. “Mister,” he cheers, excited as can be. My heart breaks for a moment. Ethan is an extrovert like his dad. He loves people.
“Hello, little guy,” Weston offers. “How are you?”
I smile, completely charmed by his awkwardness. I swoop in and take Ethan’s hand. “Remember Weston, Ethan? He lives upstairs. He brought you lots of toys.” I figure we might as well break out the toys now. No time like the present.
Ethan’s eyes are wide as saucers as I hand him the colorful xylophone, silently cursing Weston because those things are noisy. I reach for the retro style plastic television. I crank the music and the looping image. It takes me back.
“Remember those?” he says. “They’re making them again. Replicas, almost identical to the originals.”
I’m mesmerized by the slow moving image, reminiscent of a simpler time. “That’s so cool.”
Ethan is banging on the xylophone. Bing. Bing. Bing. Thankfully, he soon loses interest and reaches for the television. I pull out a wooden puzzle, farm animals and a red barn. “Thank you so much for all these toys.”
Weston smiles, and I melt a little. That smile is powerful, sweet and sexy. “It’s the least I could do to repay you for the nice dinner I’m about to have.”
I laugh. “You shouldn’t thank me until you’ve tasted it.”
“I’m sure it will be great.”
“Well, someone like you is probably used to the finest restaurants, so please just lower your expectations for tonight.”
His gaze darts about my loft. “I just love being here. With you and Ethan,” he says. “It’s your place now… your rules.”
I grin. “Oh yes… I’m not done with you, Mister.”
I stand and offer my hand. He takes it and I pull him up. We head to the kitchen, leaving Ethan completely engrossed in his new toys. “Good thinking,” I tease. “Distracting the boy with new toys.”
He laughs. “My intentions were nothing but honorable, I swear,” he insists. “But now that you mention it…” He slides a hand under the skirt of my dress, and lifts the fabric. “Oh, damn… I love those.”
I smile, brought back to the delicate white panties I slipped on just for him. I open the refrigerator door. “I thought you’d approve, Mr. Hanson.”
“I do,” he says. “But I’m not liking this bruise. It’s turned purple. Is it painful?”
I turn to him. “Only when I sit.”
“Sorry,” he whispers against my ear.
“No more hard biting,” I scold. “I thought that was already specified in the agreement.”
“It was.”
“Hmmm… maybeyoushould be spanked,” I tease. “For not adhering to the agreement.”
He laughs out loud. “I’m the only one who doles out spankings.”
I smile. It seems like a double standard, but I’m quite okay with it.
The lasagna, my grandmother’s recipe, is already in the oven. The bread is baking in the breadmaker, and all that’s left are the appetizers and Caesar salad. I’ve already prepared the stuffed jalapeño peppers, and pull them out to bake. “You like spicy food, right?”
He kisses my shoulder. “As much as the next guy.”
I set the tray down on the counter, and push him away. “You need to stay off of me. I’ll never be able to get dinner ready if you don’t.”
