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And passion we had, basically everywhere. There wasn’t a surface in that hotel suite where he didn’t taste me, make me come. By the end, we’d collapsed in a tumble of spread limbs and moist flesh on the chaise lounge in the suite’s sitting area. We’d both fallen asleep there, but when I woke up, I was in a bed by myself.
That didn’t mean Ramses wasn’t around me, on my flesh or in the sheets. We’d made love here too, several times.
Love. Was that what this was? It was infatuation, definitely, and obsession, most assuredly. I was obsessed with Ramses, had been for a while. He was like a forbidden candy I couldn’t help but taste, the urge to be naughty and sample his flavor ridiculous. We didn’t hold back sexually, and we’d only spent a couple of nights together. Something told me more wild days were sure to come, but I wasn’t sure I was prepared for them.
I want you to be my girl.
But what did that mean to him? Did he understand what that meant? Did I understand what that meant? Sex was one thing. Perhaps, the easiest thing. It was society and pressures to be a certain something that was the problem. We did have a decent age gap, and we’d also have to stare his mom in the face and tell her the truth.
After I’d already lied to her.
I lay with so many thoughts in that bed I basically drowned in them and Ramses had been gone for so long, I turned to find him. I grabbed my phone first, a text message on the screen.
Ramses: Come get breakfast when you’re ready. I’m getting it ready for you.
Oh my God, he made me breakfast.
Like a legitimate boyfriend, he doted on me, but then again, I’d done the same for him that first night.
Mostly, because I was a control freak.
The game from last night was over without the sex-induced haze, and the urge to grip hold of that control tugged me out of bed.
I showered quickly, the bedroom connected to the bathroom. It hadn’t been until after I toweled dry and threw some clothes on that I smelled, well, food. It wafted in like he’d started to ready it after I woke up. He might have even been listening for me to wake up so he could start.
I wouldn’t put it past him, shaking my head when I cracked the door open and a myriad of smells hit me. I was talking eggs, baked goods, bacon.
I’d even smelled steak.
I got a suite with a kitchen, but he’d have to have gone out to get food. Or called a delivery service. I padded down the hall with my bare feet in a pair of jeans and a tank top. My hair still wet, I towel-dried it on my search to find Ramses and that food. I found them both in the sitting area.
And he’d completely outdone himself.
He hadn’t cooked, silver domes indicating room service lining the counter between the kitchen and the sitting room. But it appeared he’d ordered everything on the menu.
Platters with stacks of danishes, three-tiered stands arranged with muffins and scones. He’d order pancakes, as well, and he did have steak and eggs. It all sat arranged on their various plates near the bacon, a feast with at least two types of cold beverages and coffee. Ramses was coming out of the kitchen with silverware for it all. Two place settings had been arranged next to each other. The table sat at least twelve, but he only put silverware in front of the two chairs. It reminded me of the sweetheart table at his friend’s wedding.
And God, was he delicious too.
He hadn’t spotted me at first, in only his lounge pants, gray sweats that cuffed at his ankles. He must have planned to stay overnight in the city as well, a complete and ab-lickable god with his shaven head and magnificent body. The sweats helped his Men’s Health Magazine aesthetic, the outline of his package on full display. Whoever invented gray sweatpants needed to be knighted for their service to womenkind.
I cleared my throat, and Ramses jerked that buzz cut in my direction, his grin wide. Eyeing me, he placed a hand toward a chair, and I took it.
“What’s all this?” I asked, letting him push me in, and he joined me.
“This is a do over.” He snapped out a napkin, placing it on my lap before draping an arm across my chair. He folded a hand behind my neck. “And you’re sexy as hell.”
I didn’t understand the whole do over thing, but I definitely computed his mouth on mine.
He captured my lips in his hungry kiss, smelling all fresh like he’d showered. He must have snuck one in while I’d been sleeping. The fact only made me want to get in his lap and bury my face in his neck, but I resisted.
He didn’t.
He mouthed his way down to my rapid pulse, hooking my waist and actually tugging me on top of him. A heavy hand kept my ass on firm thighs, his thick cock probing me right through his sweats.
He groaned, tasting the other side of my neck, and if we kept this up, we wouldn’t be eating. I smiled. “Ramses?”
“Yep?”
