“Depends.” Dean angled his head to plant a kiss on the side of my throat as his hand roamed down to my hip, his thumb caressing the bone. “Are you on the menu?”
I let out a breathy laugh. “I’m running late for work as it is.”
Kira and Aiden’s muffled conversation drifted away from the kitchen before the faint thump of her bedroom door cut them off completely.
“You asked if I wanted breakfast,” he shrugged.
I couldn’t stop smiling. “I didn’t mean that kind of breakfast.”
He propped himself up on his elbow, the hand on my hip gliding up to my side again. A knowing smirk was on his face and his black hair was a bedridden mess, sticking out in all directions while simultaneously hanging across his forehead in floppy waves.
It should be illegal to look that good in the morning.
“Just a snack?”
That smile should be illegal too.
I traced a finger down his nose. “Don’t you think we’ve had enough showers already?”
Two showers in one night. One was more of a rinse while the other had been filled with curious touching under soap-lathered hands — his hands, dipping between my thighs as he stood behind me. We quickly learned doing anything else in that small space was almost impossible. Especially since Dean bumped his head on the shower nozzle several times.
Dean gave me a lopsided grin and kissed my lips tenderly, unrushed, and sweet as he brushed his thumb in small, soothing circles on my side. Getting ready for work was sinking lower on my list of things to do today.
I rolled over to face him and lifted a leg over his hip, smiling onto his lips when I felt him.
“That was fast,” I hummed.
“Morning.” He half smiled and kissed me again, only to mutter against my mouth, “I take it you are on the breakfast menu?”
I deepened the kiss in answer.
Dean rolled me onto my back, moving to rest between my legs before he began his descent. He took his time to kiss every inch of skin he could get his lips on, and then disappeared beneath the sheets.
“What are you doin’ for dinner?” Dean asked as he pulled up the zip of his jeans.
“Nothing. Unless you have a better idea?” I looked over my shoulder at him expectantly as I buttoned up my white blouse.
We stood at the end of my bed, finally putting on clothes and getting our day started after we took our time...waking up. I couldn’t help that my eyes wandered over his physique — and the deep blue bruising on his ribs — several times as we dressed.
He half smiled, reaching for the gray shirt on the bed. One of many he left at the apartment. “We should go out to a restaurant or somethin’. Or see a movie?”
“You aren’t sick of me?” I turned to face him as I tucked the hem of my shirt loosely into my beige slacks.
His eyes raked over me before he pulled his shirt over his head, reemerging through the neck hole with a smile. “Never.”
My heart fluttered but I crossed my arms, tilting my head to one side as I nodded to his face — to the smile that remained on it. “What are you thinking?”
“You really wanna know?” Dean stepped into the space between us and tucked a finger down the hem of my pants to tug me forward.
“Well, now I really do,” I smiled, gesturing to the space between us as he habitually drew a finger along my jawline. Then continued the line down the side of my neck. His eyes, following his movements, softened with a different kind of emotion. The haughtiness quickly faded as he met my gaze again.
His hand slowed and he brushed my hair from my shoulder, catching a strand between his fingertips. “Even if it scares you?”
“I think we’ve established that nothing either of us say will scare the other off.” My smile wavered as I took his hand in mine. “What is it?”
Though his smile was faint, his mind was at war behind those beautiful eyes. Filled with urgency and hesitation as he studied my face. Realization suddenly sank into his expression. When he cupped my cheek, I sucked in a short breath.
“What?” I asked softly.
