Herding Mickey in, I close the door behind me. He rushes inside, giving me a moment with Elliot.
I pull him in, and he comes in easily enough, getting on his tiptoes seeking my mouth just as desperately as I crave him. Electricity zings through me when I have his lips on mine, his body wrapped around me.
Mine.
I push him against the wall, my tongue sliding into his mouth. He groans, the sound traveling to my very core. My world narrows down to his smell, his taste, his fingers grabbing at my hair and clutching my T-shirt, his heat against me. I don’t want this to stop. I don’t ever want him away.
“I’m quitting my job,” I announce when we come up for air.
He laughs, the sound musical. “Which one?”
“All of them.” I nod and chase his mouth again.
He smiles against my mouth. Then pushes me away.
“I’m not taking responsibility for two jobless men,” he declares and walks out of my embrace. Then follows Mickey.
“But I do have opposable thumbs that are great for chores.” I walk after him, appreciating the view a little too much.
He flops down on the couch. Mickey leaves his spot beside the window and lies down on his feet. “I’m going to have to see some proof. How about getting dinner ready, and we’ll go from there?”
I bow to him. “Whatever you need, Master.”
His eyes glaze over.
“Oh, that does it for you?”
He blinks, coming out of the haze. “What? No. What are you making?”
I smirk but let him change the topic. It’ll be better explored in the bedroom after dinner anyway.
Washing my hands and rolling my sleeves up, I get started on dinner. Elliot joins me once I’ve lined up the veggies on the counter. He pulls out the knife and takes some of them off my hands.
“So, was it a Bureau job or a police job?” he asks as he chops the carrots into different sizes. God, he’s bad at this.
I let him continue because he seems proud to be helping. The pieces are bigger than I need them to be, so I can fix them later anyway. “Bureau. A quick one, but I had to spend the entire day in a car with Sloan, so it was not easy.”
“She’s alright,” he says, concentrating hard on the carrots as he brings the knife down slowly in an uneven motion.
His movements are careful as I mix the dressing. “Weren’t you a trained serial killer?”
His hand stops, and he trains a glare at me. “Do you want to experience how I killed?”
His knife is now in the air. I laugh. “Here, I’ll teach you.” I move behind him, my arms sliding alongside his in a knockoffGhostimitation. I cover his palm. Bringing the carrot closer, I guide him through the chopping.
His breathing grows shallow, and his heartbeat drums in my ears. “This is so cheesy,” he complains, but doesn’t push me away.
I sneak in a kiss on his head, and a sharp smell of his lavender shampoo washes over me. “Focus, Elliot. There might be a quiz later.” I move closer until I’m plastered against him. My dick takes notice that we aren’t just cooking anymore.
His breath hitches when it grazes his ass. His hand goes lax under mine while I continue chopping the poor carrot. It’spractically mush now, and there’s no fixing it. “You seem really into the idea of quizzing. I’m discovering a lot about you today.” His voice is low, closer to a whisper.
I huff out a laugh. “What can I say? You bring out the weirdest kinks in me.” Leaning down, I pick up another carrot from the pile. Do we need this many carrots? I bury my face in his neck, still moving the knife, albeit a little slowly, like he’ll disappear if I don’t have a reason to keep him here.
I pepper his neck with kisses, working my way up to his ear. “Are you paying attention?” I whisper.
I feel the shiver in his entire body. It makes my dick harder. It’s all in on the action. Elliot drops the knife and turns around in my arms. “We can finish this later,” he suggests.
I nod. “Yeah, let—” Mickey’s demanding bark interrupts all my nice plans.
