“How did I do that?”
“I thought you were one of those pretty boys who think they’re too good to eat pussy.”
Ocean lifted his head and kissed my thigh. “You were testing me?”
“Not really.” I shrugged. “But it was still a nice surprise.”
Ocean stood and fixed my skirt before turning me around and kissing me. His nasty ass made sure to feed me his tongue so I could taste myself and rose onto the tips of my toes so he could get a better angle.
“Keep on,mo aingeal,” he warned. “And I’ll fuck you through the wall.”
Not quite ready for that, I backed away and bumped into the shelf, sending the one book on it tumbling over the side. It was an embarrassing display that didn’t go unnoticed by the finest man alive. Maybe it was the orgasm talking, but I chose not to dwell on it. Ocean had made it more than clear he wanted me, and he didn’t seem like the type to be easily swayed. He gallantly rescued my book from the floor and re-shelved it while I thought of something to say.
“Thanks for the books and the um…other thing.”
“When you’re ready for more, just say the word,” he whispered.
Wait… books or orgasms?
I didn’t ask out of fear that it might lead to more, and Ocean didn’t seem interested in clarifying as he took my hand and pulled me from the library. We traveled up to the third floor and through the door that led to the rooftop terrace. A bar took up most of the space, but there were couches and loungers around the lit fire pit and a covered area with a dining table laden with food.
And candles.
There were candles everywhere—scattered on the floor and on every surface. Music played from some hidden speakers. “Yeah, I Said It” by Rihanna set the mood, but the cherry on top was the largest bouquet of red roses I’d ever seen. I could barely wrap my arm around the bundle.
Something cracked open inside of my belly. Something warm and fluttery that took my breath away. Fortunately, Ocean excused himself only to return five minutes later looking like a million dollars while I was still disheveled.
I pouted while he pulled out a chair for me and kissed my cheek once I was seated. He then sat next to me at the head of the table. Out of habit, I glanced at the empty chair in front of me. Hunter would always sit across from me so that I could see her making faces at my choice of food.
As if he read my mind, Ocean murmured, “You’re going to have to explain this vegan food to me and why you torture yourself with it.”
Thoughts of Hunter fled as he poured white wine into a glass for me. I never really got into drinking the stuff, but for the sake of appearing more sophisticated than I was, I accepted the offering.
“It’s not torture.” I giggled. “It’s good for you. Good for your temple and your soul.”
Ocean spooned some black beans and rice onto my plate, along with some spicy jerk tofu. He then topped it with mango, pickled onions, avocado, and cilantro. “My soul?”
“Yes.” I shifted nervously in my seat because I couldn’t figure out why I found Ocean doing something as simple as filling a plate so damn sexy. Like everything else, he was just so damn efficient at it, knowing just how much food to give me and arranging it all in a way that made my mouth water. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up, and the veins in his forearms became a constant distraction as I tried to remember what we were discussing. “No innocent animals had to die so that we may live.”
“What about carnivorous animals? Should they only eat plants, too?”
Used to the same arguments, I shook my head with a sigh. “They don’t have the capacity to know any better. We do.”
“Hmm,” Ocean hummed as he began making his own plate.
“You don’t have to eat vegan food just because I do.” I gave a tasting sip of my wine. It was light and crisp and a little dry, but also fruity. I immediately took a second, larger sip. “I already tried that with Hunter, and she told me to go to hell.” Ocean’s unreadable gaze flicked to me, and I shrugged with a small, fond smile. “She doesn’t pull any punches,” I told him. “Ever.”
To my utter shock and dismay, Ocean gently demanded, “Tell me about her. Your Hunter.”
“She’s my best friend,” I said matter-of-factly as if those two little words could encompass everything she is and has been to me. “We sort of grew up together, but we didn’t meet until we were fifteen during grief counseling. A-after my parents died.”
“Hunter lost someone, too?”
“Not really. Her mom died, but that bitch abandoned Hunter long before that. The counseling wasn’t her choice or mine, but we found each other because of it and promised we’d always be together no matter what.”
“A family of your own never entered either of your minds?”
I stared Ocean in the eye and repeated, “No matter what.”
