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“Dessert. Every good meal should end with a little sweet.” Gwen puts the tin in the freezer and turns to face me. “What can I do to help?”
“Everything’s done except for dressing the salad. It’s either one of the three dressings out of a squeezable bottle or you can work your magic,” I tell her.
“Let’s see what you have.” She looks through the cupboard, pulling out olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt, honey, garlic, pepper, and Dijon mustard. When Gwen is focused on a task, she forgets anyone and anything else exists. She starts to hum and does a little skip step when she working. It’s cute, so cute, in fact, that I nearly forget the steaks.
When dinner is served, Gwen takes a bit of her steak, and her eyes pop with the first bite. “Oh my God, this is the best steak I’ve ever had,” she exclaims. “You are the grill master!” She laughs, then takes another bite.
“Enjoy, babe. That’s the extent of my cooking skills. Give me a piece of meat and let me throw it on the barbeque, and you’ll eat. Anything else, it’ll be all on you,” I joke.
“When my mom and dad got married, Mom couldn’t cook at all. My dad used to tell this story about how on the day he proposed, Mom said yes. Then they started talking about how they were going to have to learn to cook. Mom said she was going to learn to make three meals. Pork chops, spaghetti and meatballs, and roast chicken and potatoes. Dad had to learn two. He picked steak and nachos. That was five meals. Day six was leftovers.” Her expression is warm and soft when she talks about her parents.
“What happens on day seven?”
“Takeout! Of course.” She giggles. It’s infectious, and I can’t help but join in.
“Your parents sound like they had it all figured out,” I tell her.
“They made a good team. I think it was really hard on Dad to be without her. He continued to work hard and make a good life for Zaira and me, but he was never the same after Mom died. It’s like part of him died along with her. It’s sad, but beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” I furrow my brows.
“They must have shared an incredible love if she took a piece of him with her. I think that when Dad died, he found Mom again, waiting for him to hand him back the piece she’d been holding onto,” she says wistfully.
Gwen’s a romantic. I can do hearts and flowers. For the right woman, a man can be what she needs him to be. It won’t change the fact that I need to be in control of my space. I also need control in the bedroom. That didn’t seem to faze Gwendolyn last night.
Then again, when Gwen all but confessed that last night was her first time, I slowed down our lovemaking big-time. Watching Gwen come alive in my arms was the greatest high I’ve ever felt. What she lacks in experience, she makes up for in passion.
“Are you ready for dessert?” Gwen’s already halfway out of her seat and on the move.
“I guess I am,” I tease. She looks over her shoulder, rolling her eyes before going back to unwrapping whatever it is that she’s been hiding in the freezer. She comes back, proudly placing a dish down in front of me. “Chocolate chip ice cream sandwiches. I made the cookies, then stuffed cookies-and-cream ice cream between two cookies.”
She goes to sit back in her chair, but I take her hand and guide her onto my lap, then I shift her dish next to mine. I take a bite of the heavenly dessert. The soft cookie with the cool ice cream center is delicious.
“This is really good, babe.”
Gwen takes a bite of her own. The ice cream middle starts to drip from the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darts out to lick it up. She takes her index finger and scoops up the ice cream center and is about to put it in her mouth when I take her wrist and slip her finger into my mouth to suck it off.
Gwen’s eyes lock with mine as I suck the sweet, gooey goodness off her finger.
“Caleb.” Her voice hoarse and raw, she’s clearly feeling the same heat, the same desire.
My hand finds the back of her neck, guiding her closer until our lips are almost touching. “Here’s the thing, Gwen. I’m a man who knows what he likes and how he likes it. I really like you. I especially like you in my bed. But when you’re in my bed, I like to be in control. I’m going to ask you to trust me.”
“I trust you,” she whispers. I can feel her warm breath.
“Good, babe. Then go to my bedroom, get undressed, and wait for me. I want you lying on your back, and because I know this is new for you, you can throw the sheet over you. Can you do that for me?” She nods. I kiss the shell of her ear before loosening my grip.
When I release her, she shimmies off my lap and walks toward the bedroom. She looks back at me right before she turns the corner. I give her my best sexy grin; she returns one of her own and disappears around the corner.
I take another bite of the chocolate chip ice cream sandwich, then decide I might have a better way of enjoying the rest of my dessert.
ELEVEN
Dominance
CALEB
I clear the table and lock up the house. I do that partly to give Gwen time to get ready for me, but also to fan the flame of excitement for what comes next. And also, to slow down my need to claim her. It seems that whenever Gwen’s in the room, I want to be touching her, holding her.
