“Yeah. I’m beat. I should go to bed.”
“Okay.”Love you. But it felt weird to say that in front of Evan so she kept it inside her head. “Call me tomorrow after the session if you want.”
“Will do.” There was a pause, then he ended the call without another word.
Chewing on her lower lip, she set the phone down on the counter.
“Everything okay?” Evan asked gently.
It would be. “Brent wanted to talk. But then he said he was beat, so I don’t know.” She gave him a small smile. “Boundaries are good. If he wants me to know how he’s doing, he’ll tell me. I need to accept his answers on the face of them, and he needs to deal with the consequences of that, and I donotneed to burden you with any of this, so I’m going to shut up now.”
“Five more minutes and I can distract you with cookies,” he said. “They really don’t take long.”
She watched the timer with him, leaning against him, just soaking up his warmth. When the beeping started, they reached for it together, their hands bumping.
“Scoot,” he said, patting her on the bum.
She got out of the way and he deftly pulled one tray out, and put the other tray in.
“And when the second tray comes out, the first ones will just ready to maybe eat one of. They may crumble if they’re still too warm.”
“I’m okay with a crumbly cookie.”
“I should make you eat some real food first.”
Her eyebrows arched up, and he laughed.
“Or…not.”
“Definitely not. Not unless it’s a whole role-play thing where you catch me eating cookies before my dinner and I get deliciously punished for it.”
His eyes glittered, and he grabbed a spatula. Lifting a cookie off the tray, he put it on a plate and set it beside her.
She greedily grabbed it, and it fell apart in her hands as she giggled and ate it anyway.
He crossed his arms. “Did I just catch you eating a cookie before your dinner?”
The giggling got worse. “They were right there and so good.”
He caught her around the waist and spun her around, lifting her up onto the counter with ease. She gasped and took another bite of the cookie, grinning at him as she did.
“Bad girl.” He grinned too.
“This is one of my hottest fantasies,” she whispered. “Although in my fantasy, I’m drinking a glass of milk and have a little… you know, a milk mustache? And then you lick my upper lip, which could be weird.”
“Mmmm.” He leaned in and traced the upper curve of her lip with his tongue. “Not weird,” he murmured, before sucking the sensitive flesh into his mouth.
Not weird at all. Jess’s heart thudded against her ribcage.
“This is a fun secret,” he whispered before kissing her deeper. “What happens after I catch you having illicit milk and cookies?”
“I dunno. I usually—that’s as far as I need the fantasy to go.”
“You touch yourself to it? That’s the point you get off? The milk moustache licking?” He said all of that in complete seriousness, like it wasn’t weird.
Maybe it wasn’t.
“I use a vibrator.” She felt the wave of embarrassment that wanted to follow the admission, and pushed it away.
