“In an I-forgot-how-charming-you-can-be-way.” She touched his cheek, thumbing the corner of his mouth, before ducking her head in apparent embarrassment. As she stepped aside to let him unlock the front door, he noticed her cheeks were flushed. “I’ll go start dinner.”
Nicholas felt almost short of breath as he headed up the stairs to his room, his face still tingling where she had touched it. Ignoring the doubts in his head, he changed into a pair of worn gray sweatpants and a white wifebeater, hoping he hadn’t imagined the longing in her eyes.
Jay was standing over the stove when he came back downstairs, frowning into the pot as she added a powdery yellow spice from a jar. She was still wearing her work clothes, thoughshe had kicked off her shoes. The open back of her blouse revealed a generous expanse of bare skin. He’d put his tongue to that dark beauty mark on her left shoulder blade more than once while taking her from behind. It always made her shiver. Sometimes, it made her moan.
He wanted to spend the rest of his life taking his time with her, finding out what other things could wrest little shivers and pleasure-sounds from her.
He wanted her to sayyes.
“Can I help?”
Jay jumped, her fingers tightening on the ladle in her hand. She looked at him, and then away, where she gestured to a pile of carrots on the cutting board.
“You can chop those carrots for the curry.”
He grabbed one of his good Japanese knives.
She winced, watching him hack the top off the biggest one with a flourish. “It’s not an execution. Here—” She left the ladle in the steaming concoction to take the knife from him, rocking the blade back and forth to slice off several neat and even pieces. “Make them nice and thin, like this. It’s a gentle back and forth motion.”
“I know how to cut vegetables, Jay.”
“You’re just holding it awfully close to your f—”
“Jay. Stop.” He took the knife back from her reluctant hand. “I know how to—motherfucker.”
“Fingers,” she finished helplessly. “Is what I was about to say. You’re supposed to cut away from yourself, Nick. Not towards.”
He swore again in response as drops of blood scattered on the wooden cutting board. Jay sighed and took the knife away,giving it a rinse with soap and hot water before setting it back on the cutting board, nudging the carrots away from his blood.
Tearing off a piece of paper towel, she said, “Let me see what you did to yourself.”
He gave her his hand, letting out a hiss when she gripped him by the wrist, one thumb pressing just above his pulse point, with her other fingers bracing against the backs of his.
“It’s not that deep,” she pronounced, bowing her head over his palm. When a few locks of her hair slid against his bare shoulder, his groin tightened with need. Oblivious, she the paper towel and squeezed while looking up at him with one of her gentle half-smiles. “One time in college, I accidentally cut myself down to the bone while slicing an avocado. Avocado hand.”
“That’s not a thing,” he ground out, staring at their entwined hands.
“It is. Look it up.” She gave his finger a final squeeze before taking the paper towel away. “You’ll be fine. Make sure you bandage that later, though. And put some antibiotic on it.”
She picked up the knife.
“Are you ousting me from my own kitchen?”
Jay began to chop. Small, neat slices.It’s a gentle back and forth motion.“It’s your house. You can do whatever you want as long as it doesn’t involve knives.”
His cock throbbed. “I’m making the drinks then.”
“Not too strong.”
“If we’re having an evening in, I want to have some fun.”
“I’m fun without alcohol.”
“Yeah.” He splashed a generous amount of gin into two cut-crystal tumblers. “Reading and rock collecting. You’re quite the party girl. Pass me a lemon.”
She took one out of his crisper and began grating it.
“Seriously? You don’t trust me with the fucking grater, either?”
