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“Hungry?”
“I shouldn’t be. But for one of your famous Benedicts? Always.”
He arches a dark brow. “I felt the need to reestablish my dominance in the kitchen after that meal Gavin put on for us last night. I don’t want you thinking about any other man today.”
“Dinner was incredible,” I admit. “But my body only knows one master.” I go up onto my toes to kiss his sexy mouth. “My stomach—and the rest of me—is all yours.”
He plates another serving and we carry our dishes to the table where he’s already laid out place settings for us. I get coffee for both of us while he pours two glasses of juice. It’s all very domestic and natural, and I can’t deny the feeling of contentment that sweeps over me as we sit together and have breakfast like any other normal couple.
I can’t deny how natural it feels to be with Nick, no matter what we’re doing. Whether that’s light bondage and food play or getting ready to start our daily routines together the morning after.
We settle into an easy rhythm at the table, enjoying our coffee and breakfast and making plans for the rest of the week. Nick’s phone chimes repeatedly with incoming texts and phone calls, all of which he pointedly ignores.
“Shouldn’t you answer?” I ask him over the rim of my coffee cup after we’ve both finished the last of our breakfast. “From what I’ve gathered, morning in this city doesn’t officially start until Dominic Baine says so.”
He gives me a wry smirk. “Careful, or you’ll inflate my ego.”
“I enjoy inflating your ego.” I lick my lips, grinning now. “Along with other things.”
He makes a low noise in the back of his throat, and for a moment I’m not sure if the dark, sensual glimmer in his eyes is a warning or a promise. Then he sets his napkin down beside his empty plate and gets up from the table.
I hold my breath as he walks over to me.
“Close your eyes.”
Visions of last night send streaks of desire racing into my veins. I glance back at him when he moves behind me in untenable silence.
“Close them, Avery.”
My lids drop and I wait, uncertain of his intentions and far too easily aroused by just the thought of what he might have in mind for me now.
Something silky brushes my cheek.
He’s tying something loosely around my neck from behind me. Then . . . something cold and metallic settles between my naked breasts.
I look down and find a key on the end of a long red silk cord.
I recognize the key immediately. It was the same one he used to open the door of the building last night.
“Nick, what—” I pivot around to gape at him. “What is this?”
“A gift.” He reaches down, touching the key that rests against my skin. “Your new private art studio.”
My own studio? I’m so incredulous, for a moment I can’t speak. “You said you were thinking of buying the building. You meant buying it . . . for me? That’s why you brought me there last night?”
He slowly shakes his head, sliding his palm around to my nape. I sigh against the warmth and comfort of his touch. “I also wanted to celebrate with you, like I said. So call it multitasking.”
His smile is so full of pride and affection, I feel light-headed as I stare up at him. “Nick, you shouldn’t have done this. I mean it.”
“The building is a solid investment. Besides, there’s no reason for you to spend your own money on shared space all the way across town when you can have your own private studio just five minutes from here.”
I glance down at the key, astonished that he would do something so generous. Then again, I shouldn’t be shocked. Nick may have earned a reputation as a cold, shrewd businessman—a heartless player in commerce and in life—but he’s never been that with me. Not with the people I care about either. He stepped in with Vendange when Tasha needed help. He’s even been pressing me lately to let him help with my mother’s situation.
He has given me more kindnesses than I can ever hope to repay.
But that’s not the entire reason I am hesitant now.
As much as I’ve dreamed of one day having my own space in which to work, I’ve never wanted the dream handed to me. My art is my own. It’s always been the one thing that’s belonged solely to me. My outlet. My haven.
