He kisses my neck and the spot behind my ear. My stomach flutters, and my knees turn to jelly.
“We probably don’t have time to go back to bed,” I say. “It’s a long drive home, and Rufus knows you’ve got work tomorrow.” I tip my head back against Jett’s shoulder. I have no clue if the plate I’m washing is clean or not, but I keep moving the sponge over it.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Fuck, no. But maybe you should? I guess it depends on whether you want to risk Rufus catching us fooling around.”
Jett stills.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
“Kian.”
“It’s fine. We agreed. What happened here stays here. No strings. No promises.”
“I will call you,” he says.
“I know.” Do I?
I know Jett. He’s always been fairly work-obsessed, but it got worse after his break-up with Erica. Will he forget all about our weekend hook-up the moment he’s home, with the pressures of daily life weighing down on him? It’s okay if he does. Even though he said he wants more tutorials after we leave here, I’m not going to hold him to it. Nor am I going to get my hopes up. From the moment I got down on my knees to suck his cock, I knew that nothing was likely to come of it. Except him. Obviously. But I’d love it if he did call.
“I think that plate is clean,” Jett whispers.
“Huh?” I look down at the plate, which is sparkling as if it was the main star in a washing-up liquid advert. I put it aside and grab the next one.
“You’re distracted.”
“I wonder what by.”
He chuckles. “Do you mind?”
“Having a sexy guy fondle me while I wash up? Let me think about that for a moment. Uh, no. Fondle away. Just don’t get me too hot and bothered.”
“In case Rufus walks in the door.”
“You know, Granddad only comes up here once a month. Less in winter when it’s too cold to fish. So if you wanted to spend another weekend here with me sometime, it could be arranged.”
“I’d like that.”
My heart skips. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” He kisses my neck again. His lips are soft against my skin while his beard tickles. “That plate is clean too.”
“I’m glad you’re paying attention.” I wash the pan we used to cook the pasta in. The other pan is stained from having tomato sauce made in it. “You’re a lot more relaxed than you were at the start of the weekend.”
He chuckles against my skin. “It’s all your fault.”
“My—fault?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Tyres crunch over gravel. I tense.
Jett spins me around, captures my face in his hands, and kisses me deeply. “I’ll call you.” He pulls away and leaves the kitchen.
I turn and lean against the sink. That’s it, then. Weekend over.
“Honey, I’m home!” Rufus yells from the front door. “I hope you two crazy kids didn’t get up to anything too naughty.”
