It wasn’t until I was standing under the hot shower that I clocked the word “love” that he threw my way.
Why did that do funny things to me? I was trying to win Jesse back. I didn’t have time for Rowan’s nonsense. This was ridiculous, anyway. Rowan is Australian.Lovewas like the wordmate. They all talked like that, didn’t they?
I got out of the shower feeling like a brand-new woman. And this brand-new woman took her time getting dressed. Okay, fine. Itook my time because I couldn’t find anything clean to wear. I had to go to the back of my closet to pull out a black dress I wore to a funeral last year.
Joy picked out the dress for me since she was the dress gal in our friendship. I thought the dress was too sexy for a funeral, but Joy told me it was a statement piece that would last. “Every woman needs a little black dress in her closet,” she said. But if I felt self-conscious, I could wear a sweater over it. Now, I was glad for the sexiness. It would show off my assets to Jesse.
I managed to find some heels and sauntered out of my room with 30 minutes until showtime.
I discovered I had stepped through a wormhole or something because the room I entered was not the one I left. Everything was spotless. Rowan found my cleaning supplies and polished the tables and counters. He dusted the furniture and rearranged the dining area to accommodate four people. My seashells were neatly arranged in their gleaming glass jars along the shelves. And the broken compass I’d been searching for sat in a place of pride right in the middle.
I think he even washed the windows because I could see the sky clearly, as if there was no glass in the panes.
My galley kitchen smelled magical, and as I slowly approached the man responsible for all of it, he dipped a spoon into a pot and pulled out a taste. I watched his tongue flick out to catch the spoon bowl, and his eyes closed as his generous mouth closed around the spoon, and he reveled in the taste of whatever magnificence he created on my stove.
I think he even moaned. Maybe that was me.
“What are you making? Orgasm soup?” I quipped.
His eyes flew open, and he bobbled the spoon as he caught a full-length view of me. “Goldilocks! You look amazing.”
I twirled. “This old thing?”
Rowan put the spoon in the sink and stalked toward me, eyes locked on mine. I felt the sudden urge to run away from him, but knew he’d catch me and do all that shoulder-throwing stuff he talked about earlier.
I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to remember Jesse.
Jesse, who was on his way over here right now.
Jesse. Jesse.Jess—Rowan slid his arms around my waist and pressed his palms against my lower back. He pulled me closer to that warm, spicy aroma that gave me the urge to lean in and lick him like a pervert.
I felt his lips brush my ear as he whispered. “Kendra, you could wear a paper bag and look delectable. But in this dress, you make me have thoughts I shouldn’t have.”
“Like what?” I asked breathlessly, my eyes still closed.
“You don’t want me to tell you,” Rowan teased.
I swallowed and licked my lips. “Pretty sure I do.”
“You asked for this,” Rowan breathed and pulled me closer. “I want to slide this dress off your shoulders until it hits the floor. You slowly step out of the fabric, still wearing your heels, and I lift you onto the table, where I lay you out before me. My own personal Kendra feast. Can you imagine that?”
I pressed my legs together and tried to remember to breathe. I nodded.
“I would then put your heels flat on the table and put your hands on your knees, making you spread them wide so I had an excellent view of that pretty pussy of yours. I would tease your clit until you were dripping, waiting for me. Then, I’d press my face to your core and lick and suck you until you screamed my name.”
I gulped. “That… that?—”
“And if you didn’t screammyname when you came all over my face,” Rowan growled. “I’d tie your hands together and make you watch me declutter your spice cabinet.”
“Yes,” I whispered, startled, my eyes flying open. “Wait. What? I have a spice cabinet.”
“You do. And it’s full of expired spices that I would throw out while you watched me.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Rowan stepped away from me with a mischievous grin. “I would. I let it slide last time. You called outhisname when I made you come on my dick. I won’t let it happen the next time.”
I flipped my hair over my shoulder, hoping it would stir up a breeze in here. It was freaking hot. “There won’t be a ‘next time.’”
