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But there's no denying Wesley looks great this morning. His floppy blond hair sticks up in every direction, and the bags that were under his eyes last week are no longer present. His caterpillar onesie hugs his limbs so delicately, and he's put on a few pounds since I rescued him.
His ass… oh Christ. His thick, juicy ass is what I focus on most.
Fuck me, gods. Never in my life have I laid eyes on such a great ass. My ex-boyfriend had junk in his trunk, but he was always going on starvation diets to thin down. It wasn't appealing and after a few months, his body didn't turn me on.
Wesley looks fucking adorable in his onesie. I want to scoop him into my arms and eat him up.
"Good morning." I flip the bacon over in the pan. "I take it you slept well."
"Did I ever." A soft breath escapes his lips as he plops down at the center island, then rests his elbows on the marble. "I think the Hamptons is the best place in the world to sleep. I’ve had nothing but amazing dreams since I moved in."
"I heard you ran a bubble bath yesterday."
My maid was home, and she heard curious sounds emanating from Wesley's bathroom. She also heard some odd noises coming from my bedroom, and I was concerned someone broke in.
I was meeting with my work partners at the country club and I regretted not being home to protect Wesley.
But she told me not to worry about it; the noises, apparently, came from a member of the house. A verycuriousmember. When I returned to my bedroom, I discovered rumpled sheets and something sticky on my pillow. I pretended not to see it and slipped into bed.
Wesley nods. "It was amazing." He picks up a cup of coffee I set out for him. "I'm used to cold showers, but not longer than five minutes."
"I take it they didn't have bathtubs in the warehouse." I let out a growl as I pull two plates out of the kitchen cupboard.
Wesley shakes his head. "They had tiny, cramped showers they'd thrust four boys into at a time. They beat us if we stayed too long."
Primal rage fills me at the thought of the abuse Wesley suffered. It's not fair these men ripped him away from his suburban life and forced him to service perverts. Now, to hear that he couldn't even shower by himself pisses me off even more.
Who the hell do these assholes think they are? No one has a right to strip a human being to nothing and treat them like cattle. It's against the Geneva convention.
I scoop the scrambled eggs and bacon onto a plate, then slide the Texas toast out of the toaster.
"You never have to worry about that again, sweet boy." I bite back a grunt as I pull butter out of the refrigerator, then set it next to the two plates. "Here, you can use the bathtub as much as you please. And I presume you found the strawberry bubbles underneath the sink?"
"Yes." Wesley's blue eyes light up like saucers. "Those wereincredible. I love fruit and, well, strawberries are my favorite."
"I'm glad to hear that." I make a mental note to add strawberries to my shopping list. I don't eat many fruits or vegetables at home, even though my doctor told me I should. He didn't bitch at me about my weight, which I was grateful for, but he said I needed more leafy greens in my diet. As long as I still get to eat my nuggets and fries, I can handle a salad or two. "I'll tell my maid to purchase more."
I bring the plates to the center island. "Here you go, boy." I set them down. "I cooked scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast today. There’s plenty where that came from, so don't be afraid to eat it all. It's no trouble to make more."
Wesley can't believe his eyes as he stares at the plate. A dewy sheen flushes his cheeks, and he glances at me like a lost puppy.
"You made this for me?" His voice is soft and sweet, and it sends an arrow through my heart.
Goddamnit. Why did I think I could stay away from this boy? I’ve tried my hardest, but he's irresistible. He isn’t innocent, but he's sweeter than any boy I've ever met. He's a fighter, too, which makes him even more desirable in my eyes.
"I told my maid to take the day off so I could cook for you." I sit next to Wesley and take a sip of coffee from my mug. "It's been a while since I've gotten my hands dirty in the kitchen. I wanted to stay up-to-date on my cooking skills."
Wesley lets out a sob, and then thrusts his arms around me. "Thank you." He buries his face in my shoulder, rubbing his nose back-and-forth. "I appreciate this so much. You didn't have to do this."
An uncomfortable feeling wells up in my chest. I wrap my arm around Wesley's waist, pulling him flush with me. I told myself I’d quit getting so handsy, but it’s tough. His lithe body is warm in his bug onesie, and I can't help but inhale the scent of strawberry on his hair.
But I muscle my feelings down. I promised Constantine I wouldn't act on my attraction until we completed the mission. Besides, Wesley's been through too much for a relationship right now.
Also, I have trust issues regarding my weight. Wesley doesn't seem like he cares, but looks can be deceiving. My ex-boyfriend claimed he found me attractive, too, but that didn't stop him from making horrendous fatphobic comments about me when we broke up. He was lying all along.
"I want to cook for you, boy." I tilt his chin up and stare into his eyes. "It's my pleasure."
The sound of breaking glass reaches my ears. At first, I think it's an intruder and I prepare to pull out my Glock. But then I glance up in time to see Pickles leap onto the center island, her tail wagging.
