"Oh, I thought," she says in between bites, "the Boston Red Sox are playing. Maybe we can watch a game. You said the other day you hadn't had time to watch them play this season."
I almost can't comprehend how her actions are making me feel. I'm not used to any of this from a woman.
"Sure," I say and lean into her, "if we can watch it in the bedroom."
She laughs and rolls her eyes. "Of course we can."
I take a few more sips of my whiskey, a few more bites of my food, and a few more kisses from her.
When we're done, she stands. "I can clean up."
"What?" I say. "No. I've got someone for that. Come on, you've done enough."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Okay, then let's go," she says and takes my glass and the bottle of whiskey.
We head up the stairs to my room. We sit on the couch in front of the TV, and she turns it on.
"Okay," she says, looking over the remote. "It's supposed to be on this channel," she says and raises the remote, pointing it at the TV.
The game turns on, and a smirk comes across my face.
"You making me sit here and watch this is the only way I would, so thank you," I say, leaning back against the couch. "Come sit next to me."
"In a second," she says and hands me a freshly poured glass, then walks around the couch behind me. "You just relax," she continues and starts rubbing my shoulders.
"Wow, I could get used to this," I say as a joke.
"Well, this is my way of taking care of you a little. With all that you've done for me, it's your turn for a little relaxing."
I want to say something in response, but the way she works on my shoulders and neck muscles makes me stay quiet and enjoy what she's doing.
No one's ever done this for me.
My entire life has been about carrying weight, being the one who never breaks. And here she is, trying to take some of that weight off my shoulders. Literally.
I should tell her she doesn't have to. That this isn't her job.
But I don't.
Because fuck, it feels good to let someone care.
"Oh, I wanted to thank you," she says, her hands sliding up into my hair, rubbing my scalp, "for the nightlights."
She saw them.
This morning, before I left for the day, I had one of the housekeepers put sixteen auto-sensor nightlights throughout the house so no hallway or room would be dark anymore. Zaria hadn't mentioned the house being too dark, but I didn't want her to have to.
"Yeah, I didn't want anyone tripping walking around at night," I say.
"Mmm-hmm," she says.
She continues rubbing me, and at some point, her hands start to come down the front of me, rubbing my chest. She leans against me, her breasts pressing up against my head.
"You keep doing that and I'll need you to rub something else," I say.
