Leaning forward, he holds my stare and whispers, “But none of that compares to what you do to me now, Gwen. The woman you’ve turned into and the way you take my breath away…” his hand comes up and holds the side of my face. “I can’t get enough of you,” he confesses.
Stunned, I don’t say a word as I wait for what any ordinary woman would wait for. Him to kiss me. But he doesn’t.
Leaning back, he says, “Eat up. We have a long day ahead of us and a hell of a lot of promises I intend to make good on.”
I smile at him. “Is that so, Roberts?” leaning back in my seat, it’s my turn to cross my arms over my chest and study him. “What makes you think I’d drop everything and spend the day with you traveling down memory lane? Maybe I had plans. Maybe I don’t want to travel into our past. Did you ever think of that?”
“Hey, a promise is a promise, Gwen,” he laughs, taking a bite of his food. “You’re coming with me, even if I have to haul you out of here over my shoulder. Trust me, nothing would give me more pleasure, sweetheart.”
Rolling my eyes, I lean forward, pick up the beignet, and take a big bite. Washing it down with some coffee, I don’t even try to act ladylike as I talk with my mouth full. “Fine. But only because I am not about to let you haul me over your shoulder anywhere.”
“We’ll see about that,” he chuckles. “I also remember you used to love it when I took control.”
I continue eating and let him have the last word, but only because the memory of it left me speechless, remembering all the times he would take me up against a wall before carrying me off to the bedroom all those years ago.
Damn it if he isn’t right, but hell if I will let that be the way we end this day tonight.
12
Rex
Standing shoulder to shoulder at a sterile kitchen counter an hour later, Gwen’s eyes light up as she takes in what the chef in front of us is saying. I try to tell myself to listen, but all I see is her. All I feel is her. Her beauty and the way it still steals my breath away are all-consuming.
I watch her pick up the butter and toss it into the pan. She moves the pot to the center burner on the stove next to her. I smile as she looks up at me before grabbing the next ingredient.
“You need to be listening,” she scolds me quietly. “Besides, I’m doing all the work here, Rex.”
“But I love watching you work,” I tease, which earns me a swat on the shoulder. “Okay, Okay,” I concede. “What goes next?”
Coming up behind her, I cage in her against the counter. I nestle my lips against her bare neck and watch as goosebumps break out on her arms. I trail a finger up her side and hear her sharp intake of breath.
Reaching in front of her, I grab the flour to add to the roux for the first course we are learning to make in this New Orleans-inspired cooking class I found at the last minute while searching online last night. Another one of her bucket list items, not mine, but what the hell. At this point, I’ve surrendered like a fool, and I’m all about whatever makes her happy.
Besides, nothing gives me more pleasure than feeling her pushed up against me like she is right now, wanting me to do things to her on this counter that would blow her fucking mind.
The teacher says something about making sure whatever is in our pot resembles a blonde roux, and I could honestly care less. Running my hands across Gwen’s stomach, I pull her ass closer so she can feel what her presence does to me. A slight gasp escapes her lips when she feels how hard I am. Moving her ponytail to the side, I kiss her neck and try to restrain myself from doing more.
Like fucking her on this damn counter.
Gwen picks up the whisk and starts imitating the teacher’s movements. Standing tall, she straightens herself against the counter and clears her throat, attempting to pay attention. Smiling, I wait until I see she is focused and then blow on the area my lips were resting on just a few minutes earlier. Gwen’s movements falter slightly as she gives into the pull we have on one another, but then she starts stirring the damn pot again.
Not in the relenting mood, I grab around her waist, lower my hand, and run my fingers across her center, lightly at first and then harder as I circle the spot I know brings her the most pleasure. A low moan escapes her lips. Her head falls back against my shoulder slightly before she gains control of her senses and pushes me away.
We earn a scolding look from the instructor, which makes us both laugh.
“Now for the trinity. Onions, celery, and bell peppers,” the instructor says.
Rolling my eyes, I take my position next to Gwen and watch as she adds the ingredients individually. Smiling, my heart melts, knowing I’m closer to heaven than I have been in a long time.
Maybe things could be different this time. Maybe I could give her what she wants if she still wants me to. Even though there is a part of me that wonders if I will run when she gets too close, give into the shit that still haunts me in my past, the more I spend time around her, the more I want to take the chance.
“How did you remember I wanted to take a cooking class?” she asks.
“Well, remember that one time my parents were out of town, like always, and you came over to escape your parent’s fighting,” I say, taking the next ingredient the instructor mentions and adding it to the pot when it’s time.
Gwen stirs the pot before looking up at me and giving me a nod to continue.
“You wanted to cook a meal, and we spent all night in the kitchen only to end up with burnt chicken, overcooked vegetables, and a soggy dessert. After we ate the only edible thing left, the garlic bread, I couldn’t let the last meal we cooked together be so bad now, could I?”
