It honestly broke my heart that not a single man had ever done something kind to make him feel special. I had turned away from him to look for a sauté pan, but I turned back around to face him so he could see the sincerity in my eyes. “Spending time with you and making you happy. That’s what I’m ‘getting out’ of it.”
I saw the moment he accepted my words as truth. “What are you making me for dinner?”
“Chicken Marsala and roasted vegetables.” I turned back around and started the prep work for dinner, but not before I saw the stunned look on his face. He was probably expecting grilled cheese and tomato soup, which wasn’t too far off from my normal cooking, but I was capable of more. It was important to me that he knew that and not just in regards to my kitchen skills.
“Can I help you?” he asked and I wondered if it was because I was touching his pots and pans. He was so damn particular about them that he rarely wanted anyone to wash them. Apparently, they were some high-dollar deal that he wanted to cherish.
“Nope.”
“You want to listen to a football game or something while you work?” he asked.
“Nope.” The night was about him and I wanted to prove that I didn’t have to watch sports every single night. “You watch what you want.” Television was a big deal because we were two men who were hardwired at birth to dominate the remote control.
“Okay.” I heard the shrug in his voice. Soon his home was filled with the sounds of his favorite home improvement show while I cooked dinner for us.
My resolve to behave was pushed to the limits when Josh started showing his appreciation for my cooking skills by moaning after every bite. They were very similar to the sounds I made when I ate the food he cooked for me.
“So good.” Oh man, Josh busted out the phrases he used when he was lost to the sensations we created together during sex. My dick started to wake from its slumber like a sleeping dragon, he was ready to come out and play. “Delicious.” He licked a bit of sauce that dripped off his fork and onto his wrist. He wasn’t helping me behave, but that wasn’t his responsibility.
I refused his help to clean up after dinner and sent him back to the couch with his glass of wine. My body was so in tuned with him that I could feel when he chose to watch me instead of the television. His focus seemed to be more of the reflection type rather than making sure I didn’t scrape the surface of the sauce pan with a sharp object. I realized that my actions surprised him and the skeptical side of him challenged my intentions, but he’d soon see. Hell, I was willing to go home instead of sleep over if that was what it took to make him see that my need for him went beyond sexual.
“Movie time,” I said when I joined him on the couch. “What are you in the mood for?”
“I think I’d rather watch this show than a movie if that’s okay with you.” It happened to be one of his renovation shows that I happened to like also. It was a married couple who could find the beauty in just about any house. I was suspicious that he only chose it to make me happy, which must’ve showed on my face because he rolled his eyes. “There’s a marathon on because the new season starts on Tuesday. I haven’t seen some of these, and even if I did, I still love watching them.”
“Okay,” I said in surrender.
We watched a few hours of episodes and laughed several times at the husband’s shenanigans and the wife’s never-ending patience with him. They truly were a fun couple and very knowledgeable about what they were doing. My favorite thing about the show was how they tried to repurpose things when they could because shiny and new didn’t fit everyone’s personality.
“Relationship goals,” Josh said sleepily from where he lay against my chest. His confession surprised me a bit, because the R word wasn’t in his vocabulary. “Somethinggoals,” he amended, as if he read my mind.
I ran my hands through the silky strands of his platinum hair and could tell the moment he fell asleep. I didn’t reach for the remote to change the show, I continued to watch the couple that Josh seemed to admire so much. It was true that they had a natural, genuine love for one another that came through loud and clear. They didn’t smooch or hang all over each other, but you could see it in their expressions and the smiles they shared with one another.
I stayed in the same position so that I didn’t wake him until the numbness turned into pain. “Wake up, sleepy head, so we can go to bed and be more comfortable.” Josh just tried to burrow deeper into me rather than wake up. “If you cooperate then I’ll take you to see Charlotte even though you haven’t showed me your pole dancing studio.” He’d been bugging me to show him my 1970 Dodge Charger that I kept in storage more than I bugged him about the studio.
“Just leave me here.” Poor guy sounded exhausted and there was no way I was leaving him on the couch when there was a perfectly good bed waiting on him. I did the only thing I could; I carried him to bed. “What?” he asked when he realized he was being lifted in the air.
“I got you.” They were the same words I said to him the night I shot and killed the man who broke into his home with the intention to kill him.
“Yes, you do.” I tried not to take his words too seriously because he was half asleep, but they still made my heart speed up.
He woke up enough to help me remove his clothes and get in bed, but he was out like a light after that. I spooned up behind him so close that we shared a pillow because that was how he liked to be held. I discovered that I missed our closeness on the nights I slept away from him. The warmth of his skin against mine and his even breaths pulled me into a deep sleep.
The next thing I remembered, I opened my eyes to find Josh standing next to the bed fully dressed with a cup of coffee extended to me. It was a lot like the first time he stayed at my house, except I was happy to wake up there when he hadn’t planned on staying at my house. I told him I’d wake him up and I did, but it was the next morning and not after a few hours like he’d been expecting.
“Breakfast in ten minutes.” Josh set the coffee cup on the bedside table when I made no move to take it from him. “Hit the shower,Big Daddy, because you’re taking me to see Charlotte before I have to do my tedious errands.”
“You didn’t cooperate,” I hollered after his retreating back.
“Pick your battles, babe.”
“Fine, but then I want a demonstration up in the studio.”
Josh stopped and faced me. “Oh, honey, you’re going to need a few days to rest up after the wicked things I want you to do to me on the hood of your car.”
I whipped back the covers and flung my legs over the side of his bed. I tripped over my shoe and stubbed my big toe in my hurry to get to the shower, but my dick didn’t care about anything as minor as that. “Fuck!” I heard Josh laughing over my discomfort and vowed I wouldn’t be the only one limping that day.
IT HAD BECOME Acompetition between us–Charlotte vs the pole dancing studio. As long as I live, I’ll never forget the lust-crazed look in Gabe’s eye the first time I mentioned my attic studio on our first dinner date. It was so fucking adorable how he tried to be a gentleman and wait for an invitation to a private showing the months that followed, rather than invite himself on up. It made me fall deeper inlikewith him. I’ll also confess that I liked having the upper hand when it came to him, so it was quite a blow when I discovered that Gabe was keeping a secret also.
