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Half an hour later, Piper watches me from the kitchen table, the contents of her basket spread out around her, while I prep chicken to make her homemade soup. She's been quiet since she opened it. Too quiet, maybe. I can practically hear the wheels in her mind turning, but I'm giving her time to decide what she wants to say.
"You didn't have to do all of this for me," she finally whispers.
"I know," I say, smiling to myself. Call me crazy, but I don't think my girl is used to being spoiled. She doesn't seem to know how to let herself be taken care of. I'm guessing that's because she's always been the one doing the caretaking. Growing up with six younger brothers and sisters probably does that to a person. "Do you like it?"
"I love it," she says, her soft voice carrying across the small kitchen. Like the living room, the kitchen is cozy and inviting. It's barely big enough for one person to work in, with a two-seater situated in front of the windows in the breakfast nook on the far side. "It must have cost you a fortune."
"You're worth it," I murmur, glancing at her over my shoulder as she admires the various bags of rare coffee I picked up for her. Some did cost a small fortune, but she's worth every penny. Besides, it's not like I can't afford it. Speaking of which… "We should talk."
She startles, her gaze darting to mine. "A-about what?"
That same panicked look from yesterday crosses her face. This time, I know I'm not imagining it or reading more into it than is there. She's definitely hiding something from me. I don't fucking like it. At all. But I don't push. Not yet. If I want her to trust me with whatever is going on in her head, she needs to know she can trust me. Right now, she doesn't believe that.
"About what happened," I say, popping the chicken into the oven and then leaning back against the counter with my arms crossed. I tip my head to the side, scrutinizing her. Is it my imagination or does she look guilty? "When I woke up that morning, I went to get you breakfast. I had every intention of coming back for you."
"But you didn't," she says.
"I did," I disagree.
"I waited for almost an hour."
"Did you snoop, pretty baby?" I ask, already knowing she didn't. If she had, she'd already know I'm telling the truth. My shit was still in the closet.
"What? No," she says, scowling at me.
"You should have," I murmur. "Then you'd know I'm being honest. My shit was still in the closet, Piper. The café took longer than I expected. By the time I got back, you were already gone."
"The housekeeper told me you checked out," she says, dropping her gaze from mine as doubt filters through her expression again. "I didn't see a point in waiting around after that. It seemed pretty obvious to me that I was just a one-night stand by then."
"You weren't a fucking one-night stand," I growl, pacing toward her. "You were never that, Piper. I meant every word I said to you that night. Every word." I haul her up from her chair with my hands around her waist. "I still mean it, pretty baby."
"Cortez," she whimpers.
"You're mine," I snarl, thrusting one hand into her hair to angle her head. Even though I probably shouldn't do it, I can't fucking resist. I've been dying to feel her lips on mine again for two months. I cover her mouth with mine, swallowing her whimper.
Her fingers curl into my jacket, pulling me closer. And, ah God, I missed this perfect mouth. I missed her soft curves. I missed the way she melts into me and the sweet sounds she makes. I missed every-fucking-thing about feeling her body trembling with need against mine. I claim her mouth in a scorching kiss, trying to coax her soul from her body with my lips and tongue.
She climbs my body, scrabbling to get closer. I boost her up with my hands on her ass, squeezing and kneading her round ass as her legs wrap around my waist. I don't give her time to think about what's happening between us. I dip my head and attack her chest, biting her nipple through her sweater while I grind her against my dick.
"Cortez!" she cries out, dragging her nails down my back.
"That's it," I growl and then do it again. "Mark me, Piper. Leave your claw marks all over my fucking back, pretty baby."
"Oh my god."
"I'm your god now, sweet little Piper," I croon, releasing one plump cheek to palm her breast. How did I forget their exact weight? Or how sensitive they are? As soon as I pinch her nipple, she goes wild, clawing and biting me, crying out my name. "Ah, fuck. You're going to come, aren't you?"
"Yes, yes," she chants, grinding against my erection like she's riding my cock. She's mindless, her head thrown back as she chases the pleasure. God, she's beautiful like this. No wonder I couldn't keep my dick out of her that night. It's a wonder I didn't raze Nashville to the ground searching for her.
"Then be a good girl and come," I demand, nuzzling her neck, playing with her tits, trying to touch her everywhere at the same damn time. Fuck whoever designed the clothes standing between my hands and her gorgeous body. "Cream your little panties for your god."
She comes with a shout, bucking in my arms and moaning my name. It's so goddamn sexy. Fuck. My cock has imprints from my zipper all up and down the shaft. I don't pay him any attention though. Right now, I'm exactly where I want to be.
I hold Piper close, crooning praises in her ear as she trembles, slowly coming down from her orgasm high. Her body is limp and pliant, her heart pounding against my chest. She's so sweet and cuddly, but I have a feeling it won't last long. I decide to start talking while she's still willing to listen.
