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“Maybe I should just wear my little black apron and nothing else.”
“If you do that, the little bit of self-control I have left will snap.”
She blinks as if surprised.
“Do you think I don’t want you?”
“No, I—” She swallows hard and then simply turns to me. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“I always did appreciate your honesty. I want you so badly that I ache with it, Lorelei. Always have. Always will. Absolutely nothing will change that.”
She bites her lip.
“So, if you don’t mind if my control takes a vacation, then…by all means. Wear the apron.”
To my surprise, she doesn’t put the fish in the skillet. Instead, she turns off the burner, stows the food in the fridge, and then marches out of the room, leaving me to curse myself.
I’m a complete idiot.
I just ruined the small foothold of trust and ease we’d gained and started to rebuild between us, and all because I want to get her naked.
Just as I’m about to get up and follow her, to apologize and reassure her, she comes marching back into the kitchen, naked as the day she was born, aside from that little black apron.
My tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth as I take her in. Her dark auburn hair is long and curly, draped around her shoulders. Her eyes, as green as a stormy ocean, are on fire as she watches my gaze move from the top of her head to the tips of her little pink toes.
“Wow.”
“My cousins gave me some good advice today.”
“Yeah?” I can’t stop staring at the smooth skin of her shoulders. “What’s that?”
“They said I should grab hold of what I want and what makes me happy because life can be so short.”
“Good advice.” I have to swallow hard. “Excellent advice. And what do you want, Lorelei? What makes you happy?”
My fingers twitch. I want to reach for her, so I ball my hands into fists, staring at her.
“You.” She flips her hair over her shoulder, standing proud and sure. “Being with you makes me happy, Xander.”
“I hope this means you’re okay with me putting my hands on you.”
She holds her arms out at her sides. “I’m all yours.”
“Thank fuck.”
I move in, but I remind myself to be gentle. I’m strong, and I don’t want to hurt her. I twirl a piece of that fiery hair around my finger and lean in to press my lips to hers as I reach behind her with my other hand and pull the ties of the apron free.
It takes less than a second to pull the loop over her head and toss the whole thing to the floor, and then, I simply scoop her up into my arms and march back to the bedroom.
“I thought we might have kitchen sex,” she murmurs against my neck.
“That’s on my list for later. First, I want you in a bed because I plan to take my time. It’s been a damn long time, baby.”
“That’s my fault.”
I cut off that thought by kissing her senseless and then set her gently on the bed. “We’re not talking about fault or hurt or any of the rest of it. Because that’s over, Lorelei. It’s in the past, and we can’t change it. We’re going to move forward from here, and I’m going to just love the fuck out of you.”
“I’m down for that. But first, you have to get naked.”
Ignoring her, I kiss my way down her chest and nuzzle her nipple with my nose before sucking it into my mouth. Her hands dive into my hair, holding on tightly as her legs scissor in anticipation.
She’s so damn responsive. Enthusiastic.
Gorgeous.
My hands can’t get their fill as they roam over her smooth, amazing curves. And when they drift up her inner thigh, she gasps and grabs for my shirt.
“Get. Naked. Xander. You’re not allowed to touch me there until your clothes are off, damn it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lorelei calls the shots, always. So, I immediately stand, make quick work of my black shirt and jeans, and then join her once more. “Now, where was I?”
She willingly spreads her legs, so ready for me to explore and tease, to coax and pleasure her. She leaves wet kisses on my shoulder, my chest.
And, finally, my fingers make it to her already wet and ready center.
She grips onto me, her eyes wide and on mine as if she’s almost scared of what’s about to happen.
“What’s wrong?” I kiss her chin and then her nose and wait to move closer to her folds. “Talk to me, baby.”
“I’m not the same.”
My eyes narrow on hers, and I can see the fear there.
“I’m not the same as I used to be. I have scars, and I don’t know if it’ll feel the same.”
She closes her eyes, clearly embarrassed. “Hey. Look at me.”
