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Her reply comes instantly.
ARI:Of course not. You told me not to.
The sounds of footsteps approaching has me tucking away my phone and I face away to take out our food, plates, and two bottled waters. I’m a bit nervous at the thought of living with a man for the first time. Suddenly, it hits me that this is too intimate, as if we’re a real couple even though it’s fake.
Still, it’s nerve-racking. I’m not even trying to think about when I’ll have to sleep beside him on the same bed. I could just sneak to my old apartment once he falls asleep. Then in the morning, I’ll return before he’s awake and he’ll be none the wiser.
Hmm… It could totally work.
Satisfied with my little plan, I turn around. “I hope you like Chinese because—”
The rest of the words get stuck in my throat and all my thoughts scatter while every nerve ending in my body comes to life at the sexy vision before me. I swallow the drool threatening to fall out of my mouth while my eyes try to decide where to stare at first. Looking away is an impossibility and breathing seems secondary.
Because Dash is standing shirtless in our kitchen.
His ripped muscles look carved from the finest stone and chiseled to perfection. Muscular seems too tame a word to describe his veiny forearms, broad chest, and eight-pack abs with the happy trail leading to the bulge beneath his black sweatpants.
Sweet mercy! Who fucking needs eight-pack abs?
I swear if sex appeal had a name, it’d be Dash Stern. Don’t get me wrong, Dash is powerful and magnetic in his pristine thousand-dollar suits but the half-naked him is a sight to behold. Sexy. Sinful. Irresistible. Freshly showered with his hair still wet, pants dangerously low against the V of his hips—he’s mouthwatering. My fingers itch to dig into the cuts and planes of his hard abs to explore every inch of him for hours.
What will it feel like to have him pressed against my naked skin?
My stomach hollows and I have the strong urge to squeeze my legs to ease the ache that his perfect physique ignites. It’s like my brain has stopped functioning because I can’t rip my eyes away and stop staring like a sex-starved creep.
Is he going to flaunt his body in my face every day?How the fuck am I supposed to resist him? It’s like I’m taken back to seven years ago when he roamed around shirtless in his house. Silly of me to think he would’ve changed.
Dash clears his throat. I blink and wrench my gaze to his. My cheeks redden when I find a smug smirk gracing his too handsome face. His green irises, sparking with lust and delight at my stuttering and salivating state.
My head tilts back on instinct when he approaches behind the counter and I’m enveloped in his smoky scent with a hint of aftershave. The breath whooshes out of my lungs when he crowds me from behind and leans over my shoulder to check out the food.
“Smells delicious,” he whispers in my ear.
“It’s from a popular restaurant.”
“Wasn’t talking about the food, kitten.”
I blush like a schoolgirl while he pulls away, his fingers ghosting over my waist just shy of touching. It takes me a few seconds to recover and meet his gaze as he helps me set the plates and carry the water to the table. The muscles in his back, rippling and flexing with each step, and I want to cry at the sensory torture.
If this is his plan to seduce me without touching, I’m afraid he’ll succeed.
Following him, I sit across from his seat and avoid his piercing gaze by busying myself in pulling out the fries and burger. He fills his plate with his own food but unlike him, I can’t concentrate on anything except his naked chest or his hair falling on his forehead, giving him a boyish look.
“You keep staring at me like that, wifey,” he says in a low, husky voice before hooded eyes meet mine, “and I’d be tempted to make a meal out of you.”
My hands pause halfway to my mouth and I act aloof and annoyed while my body hums in pleasure. Ignoring it, I shrug and snap, “Then go wear a shirt.”
“Or you could take off yours so I have something to look at too.”
“Nice try.” I laugh, rolling my eyes.
His low chuckle reverberates down my spine and then we both dig into our plates. The second I bite down on my burger, I forget all about Dash and his distracting body while my taste buds sigh in pleasure. I don’t know what they put in the bread and the patty that has me addicted.
Who gives a fuck if it’s unhealthy when it tastes like heaven?
The sudden loud scraping of a chair has me freezing and focusing on a tensed Dash standing over me. “What?”
Shaking his head, he grabs his plate and walks past me while muttering something like, “Death of me.”
