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“Reallyyyyy,” she says dramatically. “Hot Chace? Chace who may or may not have appeared during one or two of my shower orgasms?”
“Didn’t need to know that?” I shake my head as I pull the protein bar out of my bag that Aidan had all but shoved into my hands when we left this morning. Usually he cooks breakfast for me, but this morning we couldn’t get out of bed for anything, which also made me five minutes late for my first class.
“When’s he coming?” she asks, a twinkle in her blue eyes alerting me that she would definitely not let him slip through her fingers this time.
“Aidan said maybe next weekend.”
“I will make myself way available for the occasion.” She raises an eyebrow at me before I see her pulling her phone out. I almost choke on my food when I hear her next words. “Hi, I’m calling to see if I can book an appointment for a Brazilian wax next week?”
The smell of lasagna wafts around me and my mouth waters, giving me feelings of nostalgia and reminding me of home. I look up from my computer and watch Aidan move around his kitchen. His arms flex and tighten as he does something so domestic. For me. And in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants that make my mouth water and a t-shirt. Aidan Reed, also known as the most gorgeous man I’d ever met and the best sex of my life, is now making me dinner.
I am so fucked.
He catches me staring and shoots me a grin that I feel deep in my core. My heart flutters and I try to stop myself from going deep into the fantasy of this similar scenario in five years, ten years, fifty years.
Yep, I’m in deep.
“Do you need help?” I ask.
“Nope, you stay there and study.”
“You know I’m going to be a tough critic. I am Italian. Marinara is in my veins.”
“I know. I told myself I wanted to cook you something I knew you’d love and were familiar with, but now I’m shitting myself thinking you won’t like it.”
I stand up and make my way over to the kitchen where I wrap my arms around him. “I was just kidding. I’m sure I’ll love it because you made it and no man has ever cooked me dinner before.”
He leans down and presses his mouth to mine, sliding his tongue through my lips, letting me taste the wine that he wouldn’t let me have “until your homework is done”. I look at his counter and see all of the necessary ingredients, and I run through a mental checklist. “Seasoning is half the battle. You remembered parsley?”
“Yes.”
“Basil?”
“Yes, Skyler.” I can sense the exasperation in his voice.
I put my hands up. “Okay, just checking. Smells good.” I reach for his wine glass and take a tentative sip.
“Is your homework done?”
I give him a cheeky grin. “I don’t know…want to check it?”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “What are you working on?”
“Work for your class. Although, I don’t know why. Sleeping with the professor should have some perks.” I giggle as I make my way back to the table and sit with his wine glass in hand, letting the flavors of the Malbec take me back to my Italian vacation.
“Is that so?” He moves across the room and leans over me. “You think I should just give you an A because we’re sleeping together?”
“Of course not.” I flutter my eyelashes and let my tongue dart out and lick a drop of stray wine. “I think you should give me an A because I give fantastic head and I let you stick your dick in my ass.”
His nostrils flare and I watch him rub his hands together like he’s preparing for something sinful. “Fantastic head, huh?”
“Mmmhmm.” I turn back to my computer, knowing full well that I’m about to be taking a very long study break. He tugs on my bun, letting it fall from the confines of my ponytail holder and makes me look up at him.
“We’ll circle back to my dick in your ass later. Do you think your blow jobs warrant you an A, Miss Mitchell?”
“I know they do,” I quip.
“So, you’d be willing to bet your entire grade on an oral exam, then?” His face leans down and it’s so close I can almost taste it.
