We clink glasses, my eyes locking onto Spencer’s. He nods as a blush creeps up his neck. He blushes so easily and it’s my favorite sight. God, he is beautiful. He looks just as breathtaking with or without makeup on, but tonight, in the blue, I don’t even have the words. I’m torn between slowly undressing his body and having to buy him a new shirt to go with the silk panties I already owe him.
We dish up, and I anxiously wait to see what he thinks. I have the meal down, but I was having a hard time paying attention, and I only had to call Beckett once, okay maybe twice.
“Mmm, Oh my god, this is good, like really, really good.” Spencer licks his lips, moaning as he takes another bite.
My cock twitches, wishing it was making him moan. But Spencer liking my food is a close second.
Spencer looks up at me sheepishly. “What?”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I do,” he says earnestly.
His hand reaches out, covering mine. His skin feels soft and smooth as his fingers glide over the top. “You did amazing. If I tried to make this, I can guarantee you it would be inedible.”
After too many years of being told I’m worthless, my heart flutters at the compliment. “If I can cook shrimp linguine, when I’m more of a frozen pizza kinda chef, then you can make this.”
Spencer laughs, taking a sip of wine. “I don’t know. I doubt it. Jules, Alex and I hold a dinner night once a week and let’s just say we are lucky nobody has died yet. Next week it’s my turn, and I have no clue what to make.”
I take a few bites as I rack my brain through the very few meals I know, trying to think of something he could make. Maybe I could call Beckett and see if he has any ideas.
Spencer continues to moan and groan over the food. Annnd I’m an idiot.
“You could make this,” I suggest.
Spencer arches his eyebrow at me. “There is no way it will ever turn out this good.”
“I could help you, I mean, if you wanted.” He is quiet for a moment and I worry I’ve said something wrong. “I don’t mean to impose on—” Spencer looks up at me.
“What, oh, no, that’s not it.” He smiles. “I would love it if you helped. I was actually thinking maybe we could turn it into a kind of… thank you dinner.” Spencer winks and I chuckle.
Spencer is getting more and more excited as he goes on about the plan. He talks with his hands, very animated, and his voice goes up an octave like he is trying desperately to hold back a squeal.
It’s cuter than shit.
And the idea of spending more time with Spencer is never a hardship.
“I was thinking we could invite Jaxon and Dom as a thank you for the stairs.”
“And a thank you for hiring me and letting me live here. I don’t know how I could ever repay him enough for what he has done for me,” I say. Excitement rushes through me at the idea of being able to, if at least in the tiniest bit, thank him.
“We should invite Mira because, well, Jules.” He sighs. “It’s like watching the mating ritual of lions on the national geographic channel.”
I laugh at the image in my head and remember the other night at the bar. “Yes, for sure! Should we invite Jasper too, and what about Ollie?”
“Yes to both,” he says, before shoveling more pasta into his mouth.
“Are those two….?”
“Nope, not yet.” he responds. “The sparks fly all over this weird little group we have and yet nobody opens their mind to what is in front of them. Well, except for maybe Mira and Jules, the chase is like foreplay to them.”
“Foreplay always makes the reward so much sweeter.” I need him to know that I’m okay at whatever pace he wants to go. And that while he guides us, I will remind him just how desirable he is.
I slide out of my chair before walking next to where he sits. When he looks up at me, my heart nearly stops. God, he is breathtaking. I rest my fingers under his chin and claim the lips I have been daydreaming about all day. I can’t seem to get enough.
I had hookups back in California, and there's not a lot of kissing during a hookup. It’s more of a mutual understanding of gratification. Getting the release. But this, I could get used to this.
When I pull back, Spencer does a couple of slow blinks, and I chuckle. Continuing into the kitchen, I grab the bottle of wine from the counter and refill my glass.
