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He growls and nibbles softly at my neck. His stitches are scratchy, but I don’t care, having him this close makes everything okay. Even just for a second.
“You’re going to have a long, hot shower,” he says against my ear, “and I’m going to start dinner.”
I pull back, grinning up at him. “You’re not going to threaten me so I’ll cook for you?” He narrows his eyes, and I giggle. “Not funny yet?”
“Not quite. You know I never wanted to hurt you.”
“I know. So, you’re going to cook for me? Should I be afraid?”
A ghost of a smile plays around his lips. “You should be very scared.”
I tilt my head to the side and grin prettily at him. “Oh?”
“Get to the shower, before I spank that cute little ass.”
“I’d like that.”
“Go!”
He slaps my backside when I turn and head down the hall. I go the entire way to our room smiling, and, for the first time in a while, it’s real.
13
WILLOW
I shower and shave everything, then I dress in some light shorts and a tank top. I’m grateful my period is pretty much over but pissed it’s not over enough to have a good time with Jagger. When I walk out into the kitchen, I smell food cooking, and my stomach grumbles for the first time in days. Jagger is standing in the kitchen squinting at a piece of chicken, he looks so god dammed beautiful standing there like that, and, for a moment, I see a glimpse of our future together.
His black shirt is stretched across his chest and his black jeans are just tight enough to let the imagination roll. I walk over and stop behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He pats my hand and then continues staring at the chicken. I want to ask him if he wants help, but, somehow, I know that won’t do his ego any favors, so I just snuggle into him from behind. He spins around a moment later, takes my hips, and turns me so I’m pressed against the bench. Then he lifts me and deposits me down onto it and nestles himself between my legs.
“You smell amazing. It’s testin’ my self-control.”
“I could always get on my knees and suck you while you cook.”
His eyes widen and grow lusty. “Baby, I’d love that, but I have this all planned out and ...”
“Oh, do you now?”
He grins. “I do.”
“What’s the plan?”
“That’s a secret.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah oh, now sit there and look pretty while I cook.”
“What’re you cooking?”
He smiles at me. “Secret.”
“Lots of secrets tonight, Mr. Black.”
“You know it,” he says, focusing his attention back on the chicken.
I watch him slice it followed by some mushrooms, then he tosses them into a pan, and I realize what he’s making. I’ve made it for him a few times, and he always loves it so much. My creamy tomato chicken with mushrooms.
I smile. “Creamy tomato chicken.”
He looks up at me. “Jenny told me how to do it, but I’m not sure I’m gettin’ it right.”
“You are.”
“Don’t fancy helpin’?”
“Oh no, this one is yours, big man.”
He grunts and continues cooking. I’m enjoying every second.
“So, Ace told me Huck has gotten some explosives ready,” Jagger says, stirring the chicken.
I raise my brows. “Oh?”
“I’m goin’ back next week. I’ll take them then.”
“Oh.”
He stops stirring and turns to me. “It’s just for a few days. Week tops.”
“Okay, I guess I can live with that.”
He gives me that gorgeous half-smile and turns back to his cooking. I slide off the counter and set the table for him. When the food is ready, we both sit down. He stares at the dish and looks at me cautiously as I take a mouthful. Oh yum. The creamy tomato sauce is beautiful, and the pasta is perfect. He actually did an incredible job.
“Oh, Jagger, this is actually really amazing.”
“Are you just sayin’ that?”
“Try it for yourself and see.”
He hesitantly takes a mouthful, and his eyes widen. I grin at him and take another spoonful. I’m starving. I’ve hardly eaten. In fact, I don’t think I have eaten much at all for the last week. It’s worrying, and I know I’m losing weight. I finish my meal without thought, and look up to see Jagger watching me, his expression narrowed.
“Hungry?”
I give him a sheepish smile and look down. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten.”
“You’re not eating?” he interrupts.
“I do, but, just not enough.”
“You should be eating, Willow.”
“I am, it’s just hard.”
He narrows his eyes like he wants to argue, but stiffly nods instead. When he’s finished, he stands and clears the plates. I stand too, and am just about to turn around when he presses himself up against my back. One arm wraps around my waist and he leans into my ear.
“Shut your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
I shut my eyes and his fingers slide up and over my lips. I lean my head back into his shoulder and sigh as he slides his finger gently over my face.
