He shrugs, stepping past me into the house like he belongs there—and he does. His heart is already rooted deeply within me. “I knew you’d get caught up packing and lose track of time.” He makes his way to the kitchen and sets the bags on the table, turning back to look at me with that familiar softness in his eyes. “This way, you don’t have to change or worry about being gone too long. I knew you’d worry about it the entire time.”
He walks back over to me, takes the drink tray from me and places it on the table before slipping an arm around my waist. “Besides...I don’t really feel like sharing you today. I haven’t had enough time with you the last couple of weeks, and I kinda just want you all to myself.”
My smile softens and I lean into his chest, wrapping my arms around him, letting them slip underneath the hem of his shirt, touching his bare flesh.
“Well,” I whisper, “in that case, I’ll let you feed me dumplings and cuddle me like I’m your emotional support human until you don’t feel that way. Or until I have to start packing again.”
He chuckles against my hair. “Deal. And you are definitely that. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life.”
“I hope you never have to find out. Now feed me. I’m starving.” Right on cue, my stomach growls, sending us both into laughter.
“Sit down, I’ll get the plates and you can tell me all about yesterday.” He pauses for a moment. “Feel free to leave out all the details.”
I gulp. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. In no way did I ever want to tell him any of the details about the photo and video shoot.
He moves over to the cabinet, taking out two plates and bringing them back to the table. One by one, he pulls the containers out of the bag and begins placing food on the plates.He loads mine with noodles and dumplings, knowing they’re my favorite.
Once he’s done, he sits down beside me, and we eat in silence. My goal is to stay busy eating so that he forgets what he asked me.
“Do you think the one session was enough? Or will they have to do some of the shots over?”
I finish chewing what’s in my mouth and swallow. “Umm, Chad said the photos were good. The video, I don’t know yet because he wasn’t there for that.”
“Hopefully not. I know how hard it was for you to do it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be your partner.” He picks up an egg roll, taking a large bite.
Wanting nothing more than to change the subject, I blurt out, “So my mom messaged me. Apparently we’re having a family dinner tomorrow night at her—” I catch myself, “—our new house.”
“Want to come see me after? Spend the night?”
“More than anything.” I reach out and take his hand in mine, squeezing it gently.
“Well, let’s finish eating, then I’ll help you pack some before the kids arrive. At least move some of these boxes out of the way, so there's room to walk.” He lifts our joined hands, pressing them to his mouth as he kisses mine softly.
“My big strong hero.” I blink my eyelashes real fast as I try to look like one of those women in The Beauty and the Beast fawning over Gaston.
He lets go of my hand and begins flexing his muscles. God, I love him so much.
“But you still haven’t told me about your day. Not all the details, or how she touched you, but how did it go? Did you have a good time? Were you comfortable?”
Do I tell the truth? Lie?
"It was...different," I say hesitantly, a faint blush creeping up my cheeks. "Working with another woman, I mean. I was nervous at first, but both her and the photographer were incredibly professional. They made sure I was comfortable every step of the way."
I pause, searching for the right words. "There was a lot of emphasis on consent and boundaries. Both of them checked in with me constantly, ensuring I was okay with what was happening." Not entirely a lie.
Ezra shifts in his chair, facing me as he leans forward slightly, his eyes meeting mine. "Did you enjoy it?"
I hesitate, gently biting my lower lip. It feels as if the air has been sucked from the room as he waits for me to answer.
"I did," I admit after a moment. "I didn’t expect to, and it caught me off guard."
I can feel his tension rise and he nods slowly, and I can tell he’s processing my words. "Did you... orgasm during the shoot?"
The question hangs in the air between us, heavy and intimate. I look down, my hands fisting in my lap.I think I might vomit.
"Yes," slips softly from my lips. "I did."
He looks at me and I know he’s trying to figure out the words to ask his next question. Fuck, I hate this.
