When we’re finally clean and exhausted from pleasure, I wrap her in a towel while I dry her hair.
“A girl could get used to this,” she sighs.
“What’s that?”
“You, taking care of me, drying my hair, looking sinfully delicious in nothing but a towel slung low on your waist.”
Kissing her quickly, I say, “If that’s the case, I’ll do this every day.”
“I like the way that sounds—every day.” She gives me a smile full of happiness and joy and I’d do anything in the world to have her look at me like that for the rest of my life.
I turn off the hair dryer and stow it away under the sink. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving. Do you want me to order something?” She walks back into my bedroom and rifles through my drawers until she finds a shirt to wear. “Wait, what time is it? Don’t you have to work?”
“I didn’t have anything important today.” I tap the screen on my phone to check the time. “It’s almost two. Did you have anything to do?”
She shakes her head. “I texted Allie earlier that I was taking the day off. I just wanted to be with you and figure this out.”
“Me too. How about we cook something together and then veg out on the couch this afternoon like old times.”
Taylor beams up at me. “Sounds like a plan.” She spins on her heel and leaves the room. When she bypasses the kitchen, I call after her. “Where are you going?”
“I need underwear.”
“Underwear is optional, honestly frowned upon.”
Her musical laugh echoes and settles deep in my chest.
While I arrange ingredients on the counter, Taylor fiddles with the music until a pop playlist sounds over the wireless speakers. Dancing around my kitchen in nothing but my shirt and socks with her hair in a ponytail, she looks the opposite ofthe ball buster she shows to the world. I’m honored to be one of the few people who get to see this side of her. Looking down at myself in joggers and no shirt, I realize she makes me feel like a twenty-something again and it has me wanting to swap my daily suits for jeans, business meetings and fancy dinners for more nights at the dive bar or on the couch.
“What can I help with?” she asks, washing her hands.
“Can you chop the garlic and parsley?”
“Yes, chef.”
Caging her into the countertop from behind I nip her ear. “Watch it.”
She presses her ass into my groin, always teasing me. “What if I don’t want to?”
“Dangerous. A menace to society, that’s what you are.” I slap her behind and go back to the stove.
We work in tandem, preparing a late lunch and basking in this newfound bliss of being truly together. Taylor occasionally flits around the kitchen, singing and dancing, and I find myself dancing along with her.
“I’m going to clean off the table outside so we can eat on the terrace.” She continues to make herself at home and it’s the most like home this place has ever felt.
When she comes back inside, I hold out my arm, and she leans into my side as I put the finishing touches on our very late lunch. Together we carry everything outside and I barely make it through the meal with all the moaning and groaning she’s doing on the other side of the table.
“Movie marathon?” I ask, clearing my throat and willing my dick to calm down. As much as I love sex with her, I don’t want today to be all about that.
She perks up. “Mission Impossible?”
“Like I’d suggest anything else.”
Quickly, we clean the kitchen before gathering drinks and snacks. When I sit in my normal spot on the couch, she sits inthe middle seat directly beside me and lifts my arm to the couch behind her. I play with her hair, watching the action flick but occasionally glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. After all, watching her is my favorite pastime and I’m helpless to look away when she’s so close.
“Bathroom break,” she announces when the first movie ends, running to the hall bath. I chuckle and head to my bathroom, making a pit stop to check my phone for any missed calls from Teresa just in case.
