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“With Ken,” Jackson answers. “They’re building sandcastles.”
“So she’s okay?”
He nods. “You know her. She bounces back fast.”
I let out a sigh. “I wish I could bounce back that fast.”
Jackson glances at the tray of food. Then his eyebrows furrow as he touches his chin. “Hmm.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “What?”
His lips curve into a grin. “I might be able to help you with that.”
My gaze narrows. I can tell he’s thinking of something, probably something mischievous judging from that grin. But what?
“What are you thinking of?” I ask him directly.
Jackson grabs the bottle of whipped cream. “Say ‘ah’.”
I glance at the bottle and frown. What? Is he going to cheer me up by feeding me whipped cream? Is he trying to give me a sugar high? That’s his idea?
“Come on,” Jackson urges me. “Say ‘ah’.”
I give in and open my mouth. He sprays some whipped cream on my tongue. I close my eyes and swallow. The sweet, fluffy concoction goes down my throat.
“Now, wha – ?”
Jackson’s mouth crashes down on mine as he cradles my face with both hands. When I part my lips, his tongue slips in. It caresses mine and an even sweeter sensation washes over me. A moan escapes my throat.
Jackson pulls his mouth away and licks his lips. “Yum.”
I give him a puzzled look. “Yum?”
“Now, it’s your turn.”
He hands me the bottle of whipped cream and gets off the bed. He stands a few feet away and takes off his shirt. It falls on the carpet.
I swallow as I stare at the ridges of his bare chest. My gaze traces the dips and bulges of his abdominal muscles and follows that thin line of hair in between them over his navel and down to where it stops just above the waistband of his shorts. Then I bring my gaze back up to his face. The mischief in his eyes causes heat to flood my cheeks and my chest, extinguishing my breath. The hint of lust in them sends a shiver of excitement down my spine.
Now I understand what Jackson’s talking about. I’m still not sure I want to do it, though. Or if I can.
“What? Not enough?” he asks.
Before I can answer, he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts.
My heart stops. Wait. He’s not planning on un…
My thoughts evaporate as Jackson drops not just his shorts but also his briefs. They pool around his feet and he steps out of them.
Now he’s completely naked.
And this time, my gaze lingers on his crotch. Even though he’s not fully hard, I find myself fascinated by the rod of flesh hanging between his legs. It’s a little darker than the rest of him, rosy, and the tip is especially pink. Whereas the rest of his body is ripped, that part of him is smooth, pretty almost.
Pretty? No, that’s not the word. Magnificent. Enticing. Perfect.
My mouth waters.
Jackson places his hands on his hips. “Well?”
It amazes me how he doesn’t seem the least bit embarrassed at showing me every inch of his skin. Then again, I suppose he has no reason to be, given how incredible his body now is.
If he’s offering it to me, I guess I should accept.
I get off the bed. As I walk towards him, the corner of my mouth twitches up.
“Is that a smirk?” Jackson asks.
“No,” I answer. “Just a grin.”
“A wicked grin,” he says.
I meet his gaze. “What? Are you the only one who can have one?”
“No. I’m just curious to know the reason for it.”
I look at his chest. “I was just thinking how when I first saw you again, I wanted to see you in an apron. Just an apron.”
“Aha!” Jackson cheers triumphantly. “So you already wanted me then, did you?”
I don’t answer.
“So that’s why you were staring,” he adds.
“I wasn’t…” I start to defend myself but stop. It doesn’t matter anymore anyway.
I place a hand on his chest. “I never thought I’d get to see you naked, though.”
“Should I put on an apron?” Jackson asks.
“No.” I shake the bottle in my hand. “I think I have something better to dress you with.”
I spray a dollop of whipped cream on each of his nipples. Then I put some more on his abdomen, one on each side and then in between. I circle his navel with the thick, white foam.
Afterwards, I step back to admire my work. Jackson, too, glances down.
“Not bad,” he says. “Though I think you missed a spot.”
His cock twitches.
I ignore him as I put the bottle down on the shelf. Then I stand in front of him.
“So now, I eat?” I ask.
Jackson grins. “Bon appetit.”
I lick my lips. “Itadakimasu.”
It’s Japanese for “I gratefully receive” or “Thanks for the food”, usually said before a meal.
Jackson chuckles. “Now, where did you learn that?”
I shrug. “I was doing some research on food customs around the world. I don’t know a lot about wines, and I don’t think I can do much about that, but I thought if I’m going to work at a restaurant, I might as well be more knowledgeable about food.”
