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When I withdraw my arm, she watches me lick my digits clean.
“I really needed that,” she says.
“The food or the orgasm?” I ask her.
“Both,” she says.
“Well, eat up so we can go home and have more,” I tell her.
FIFTEEN
Istretch my arms above my head before I roll over and reach for Alistair, who doesn’t appear to be in bed.
What the hell? I actually stayed all night to wake up alone?
The sound of banging and clanging coming from the kitchen lets me know he’s here somewhere—at least he’s still in the apartment.
I close my eyes. Maybe I can drift off for another five minutes. Just as I’m about to dive into slumber, my alarm startles me.
“Fuck.” I slap a hand out to the bedside table and pick up my phone. Five a.m. I have to get up and get ready for work.
Although, after yesterday, I really feel like calling in sick for the first time in forever. Pushing the covers back, I get up and reach for the robe Alistair bought me. I wrap the tie around my waist and pad into the kitchen to find him at the stove, a spatula in hand.
“Morning.”
Alistair spins around. “Morning. I was going to bring you breakfast in bed,” he says.
“Oh, want me to go back and wait?” I ask.
“No, you’re up now. Sit down. I’ll grab you a plate.”
“You really didn’t need to make me breakfast. Thank you,” I say as I awkwardly lower myself onto the chair. This is why I usually leave. I don’t know how to do the morning after. This seems way too intimate.
Alistair places a plate full of pancakes, bacon, and eggs in front of me. “Are you okay?” he asks, his brows drawn down as he squints his eyes in my direction and scans my features.
“Fine,” I say.
“You’re not fine. What’s wrong?” He walks around the counter and sits next to me.
“I don’t know. Don’t you think this is weird?” I ask him.
“Me cooking you breakfast is weird?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. It’s just… you seeing me first thing in the morning. Eating breakfast together. It’s all very domesticated, intimate.” I shrug.
“If it makes you feel any better, I plan on bending you over this counter and fucking you until you come at least three times as soon as you finish that food.” He smirks.
“That’s not… a bad idea,” I say, picking up my knife and fork.
“It’s the best idea. Eat,” he says. We continue our meal in silence for a few minutes. “I haven’t done this before. Had breakfast with a woman. Thank you for staying,” he says.
“Thank you for inviting me.” I smile.
“The invitation is an open one, Dani. I like this.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I don’t say anything at all. I eat until I can’t possibly eat anything else. My thighs have been clenched together, wetness coating them as my mind keeps returning to the image of him fucking me over this counter.
I push my plate away from me. “I can’t eat anymore. It was so good,” I tell him.
