Chapter Forty-Nine
We spend the next couple of hours doing pretty much nothing, which is an absolute first. I rise shortly after him, we shower separately—my bathroom is barely big enough for one, let alone a six-foot spunk plus one. I make coffee, Kai makes fun of my empty kitchen, and I spend a blissful hour perving. My heart is content and my libido ravenous as he wanders around my apartment wearing nothing but his low hanging suit pants. I manage to keep my hands to myself but my eyes not at all. They devour each dip and vein, feast on every tendon and curl.
Lounging on the sofa with my feet in his lap, Kai reads aloud from my smutty book, bemoaning my taste in vulgar literature and complaining vociferously about his empty stomach. I tell him unashamedly his voice nourishes me, though really I’m so hungry I think my bum would eat my knickers, if I had any on, that is. I’m still waiting for him to notice that part, but I really should’ve popped to the corner shop for a loaf, at the least. Conversation flows effortlessly as we carefully avoid the difficult topics of earlier. I wish I could say the same about my brain ignoring those subjects, or my slightly warm butt.
As the doorbell rings and startles me, Kai slides my feet away and jumps to open it. I pray to all possible deities that Matt hasn’t arrived to burst our bubble in a totally non-neighbour-ish way.
‘Rashid,marhaba!’
Kai sounds positively buoyant as he greets his reserved employee as, with a hand on his shoulder, he pulls him inside. Rashid trails Kai to my tiny kitchen, the pair crowding the small space. Kai leans his hip into the counter as Rashid places several bags on the counter top, then hands over a leather weekend bag to Kai.
‘Will there be anything else?’
‘La. Shukran. Nothing, thanks. The car’s downstairs?’ Kai asks absently, rifling through the bags. He’s enthralling, this happy-chap Kai, distracted and eager, like a young boy on an adventure.Or up to something.
‘Of course. The keys.’ Rashid fishes a set from his suit jacket, dropping them into Kai’s hand. ‘If that is all?’
Kai nods, smiling distractedly. ‘Shukran jazeelan.’
‘What was that all about?’ I ask as Kai closes the front door behind Rashid.
‘Supplies. I sent out an S.O.S. I’ve never seen a kitchen stocked as poorly as yours. A man could die fulfilling your carnal desires with so little to sustain him for his endeavours.’
‘Would he die happy, though?’
‘Absolutely,’ he replies, deadpan.
‘I wasn’t expecting company. It’s so difficult getting around in cabs and it’s just so hot,’ I whine. ‘But I can shop now, ‘cos I have a new car!’
‘So you do,’ he says, eyes bright. ‘Come, let’s eat.’ Kneeling, he begins to unload the of the brown paper patisserie bag to the coffee table.
‘Is that cake?’ I sit up as he opens a cream-coloured box.
‘Not just any cake.’ He waves the now open box under my nose. ‘Chocolate ganaché, coffee butter cream. Every mouthful a small bite of heaven.’ Digging a fork into the deliciously dark portion of cake, he glides it past my face.
‘Where’s my piece?’ I ask as he slides the fork into his mouth.
‘What happened to self-service?’ he taunts, ploughing the fork into the box once more.
‘Whatever.’ I sigh my pretence of indifference and he meets my feigned apathy with a quirk of his brow, raising me one by daubing a gooey forkful against the centre of his bare chest.
‘Don’t let me deprive you. Self-service waits right here.’ Rubbing a finger through the chocolaty smear, he raises it to his lips, withdrawing it with a lip-smacking pop. The sound echoes, a sudden energy filling the small space between us.
I close my eyes as molten carnality floods my veins.
‘Open your eyes,’ he whispers. ‘They’ve been devouring me all day.’ Trailing his finger against my torso, his eyes are clouded with want.
I push his shoulders with the flat of my palms, his legs unfolding awkwardly between us as I crawl the length of him and straddle his hips. There’s just me and him and a lick of chocolate right now. Gone are my concerns of dominance and surrender, I don’t need to wonder if what I’m doing is wrong.
My gaze travels his torso, up past his neck where his pulse jumps in anticipation. My own response starts in my stomach, warmth growing along my spine, as I bend and firmly lick the length of chocolaty smear, sealing the action with a kiss at the patch of now damp skin.
‘How’s that for self-service?’ I whisper, rising and seating myself on his thighs, his legs settled between my own.
‘Worth starving for,’ he murmurs. ‘But you’ve left a bit.’ As I raise my fingers to my mouth, he catches them in his own, pulling me against him where he skims my lips with his tongue. ‘I live to serve,’ he whispers salaciously against my cheek. His hands slip to my face as we kiss slowly, a sensual, coaxing dance between our mouths and tongues.
‘Take me inside you,’ he whispers against my mouth.
A dark, captivating chasm opens up inside me, and as his mouth meets mine, I kiss him hard, with a force that shocks us both. Mashing my mouth against his, teeth clash and tongues collide as he struggles to rise, to meet my passion, to take command. I run my hands through his hair, pulling at the ends, relishing the masculine noises sounding in his throat. His hands pull at my clothing, the tempo for our coupling set. Grasping the hem of my tennis dress, he pulls it from my body, forcing our mouths to part momentarily, smiling at the realization I’m not wearing any undies.
