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When we get to his place, I’m ushered inside his townhouse and am in awe at the mix of old and modern, including the exposed brick walls throughout the downstairs. It’s gorgeous and totally a place I could see covered in my art. Even if I don’t want to get too ahead of myself.
Silas doesn’t let me look around long, leading me directly into the kitchen. I pout which only makes him laugh as he picks me up by my hips and puts me on a stool situated at the kitchen island. His voice is rich and deep, almost like a purr, “You’ll have plenty of time to explore, Paisley. I want you here, in my kitchen, so I can make you some food.”
The thought of him providing for me, of feeding me, should make me want to burn my bra or something, but it doesn’t. Instead, I settle into my seat, and get the pleasure of watching a chef, a real one, make me dinner. He does everything with precision and speed.
The thought of one day cooking for him, of him watching me and thinking of all the ways I’m doing something wrong, makes me want to run for the hills and never look back. My face must mirror my thoughts because Silas stops cutting up some onions and studies me. He looks calm on the outside, but I can see the turbulent seas in his eyes.
“What’s wrong, Sugar?”
I shrug one of my shoulders, but he arches an eyebrow in response, the simple act telling me I’m not going to get away with not answering. Okay then.
“I was thinking about one day me cooking for you and wondering if you’d be critical because I don’t have perfect knife cuts or technique or something,” I try and make my voice light, but even I can hear the worry underneath.
His whole being lights up like the fucking Aurora Borealis and his voice is filled with hope, “You want to cook for me? You can see our future together?”
The excitement in his tone helps to make some of my fears ebb. I nod my head tentatively and lick my lips as he goes back to work. “I think so, I mean, yes, I do, and I can.”
Silas flashes me a grin before assuring me, “I would never be critical of you doing something for me. So, what if everything isn’t cut perfectly? I don’t give a fuck about that. For me, it’s second nature, but, I’ll be honest, I’m making sure everything is perfect because I want to impress you,” he admits the last part while winking at me.
I find myself laughing and it’s like all the worry about today is replaced with a sense of rightness, of being home, of feeling complete. It’s not something I’ve felt before. Not with any other man I’ve dated. It’s a different feeling than I get with my best friends too.
It’s strange, but it’s not bad.
I’m going to embrace it.
I have a feeling Silas wouldn’t let me do anything else anyway. His whole body has an air of determination. As the delicious smells from the food he’s making fill the kitchen and my stomach lets out a small growl, it’s clear there are going to be some major perks of dating a chef.
Delicious, decadent perks.
CHAPTER 6
SILAS
Christ, my woman is sexy as fuck. I’ve been sitting across from her at the table, my cock hard as a led pipe and the inner caveman inside of me screaming at me to swipe all the food, the plates, the glasses…everything, off the table so I can put her on it and feast upon her. I’ve barely held that part of me in check but watching her lips as she slides the tines of her fork out of her mouth is a torture I’m not sure I can endure for much longer.
I’m not going to try and downplay the amount of contentment it gives me that she’s not only eaten the food I made for her but has seemed to thoroughly enjoy it. It makes my heart so damn happy I think it could burst right from my chest. I’ve always loved cooking for others, it’s part of why being a chef has been enough for me for so long. Feeding the woman I’ve fallen in love with my food is something entirely different.
I know, it’s only been days, but I’m not going to try and say I’m anything less than in love with her. I was almost sure of it the moment I saw her but spending tonight with her has only made those feelings more tangible. She’s sweet, smart and talented. She’s funny and has the most adorable blush I’ve ever seen on a woman. Somehow, she’s this combination of sexy and sultry along with innocent.
She makes my cock throb and if she doesn’t finish up eating soon I won’t be held responsible for my actions.
I don’t realize I’m staring at her until she takes her napkin and wipes at her face. “What?” She scrunches up her nose, “Is there something on my face?”
“No, Sugar, nothing except for how beautiful you are.” There’s that blush again. I wonder if I can get her to do it again. I look into her eyes, almost getting lost in her brown depths. “You are, you know? You’re so damn beautiful, Paisley.”
She rolls her eyes and waves her hand as if swatting away my compliment before she puts her fork down and pushes her plate away from her slightly. The way she fidgets in her chair under the honesty of my words tells me she hasn’t been treated the way she deserves. I’m going to change that.
I stand up quickly and she looks up at me startled as I move around the table to her and pull her up into my arms. Instead of all the pretty words I could shower her with, I kiss her. I know she won’t believe the words, they could be lies, but she will believe the action. I’m going to make sure she has no other choice.
Her arms twine around my neck as I deepen the kiss and her body melts against mine. I love kissing her. I plan to do it every day for the rest of our lives. When my hands glide down her back to cup her ass, I lift her up and her legs wrap around my waist.
The surprised squeal she lets out has her separating her lips from mine and I hate it. She looks at me with such confusion and surprise. I can almost hear the self-deprecating words about to fall from her lips, but I’m not going to allow it. Not tonight, not ever.
“I think we should have dessert after we work up a little bit of an appetite for it.” I smirk at the way her eyes heat at my words. I don’t want there to be any confusion between us. “I’m taking you to bed, Paisley. I’m going to fuck you until neither of us can walk for a while. You should know up front, I’m not wearing a condom, I’m not letting anything come between me and feeling your sweet pussy wrapped around my bare cock.”
She bites her lip, her eyes wide. “I’m not on anything. What if,” she pauses, “what if—.“
“You get pregnant?” I cut her off and finish her question. She nods her head slowly as I carry her through my place and up to my room. “Good. I hope you do. You’ll be so damn sexy round with our child. I want it,” sincerity fills every word.
