“This is for you,” he says softly, appearing slightly unsure of himself.
It’s sweet and completely unexpected from the man I was with this afternoon, who fucked me on a desk until I squirted all over him.
The same one who couldn’t promise me anything but secretive sex, unless I misunderstood.
I reach for the flower slowly. “Wow. Thank you. That’s really sweet.”
“It’s not cheesy, is it?” he asks, confirming my suspicions that he is in uncharted territory.
I bite my lip to contain the smile that wants to spread wide across my face. My cheeks feel warm. “It’s beautiful. I don’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers.”
With the rose in my hand, I grab a small crystal glass and fill it with water then place the flower in it.
“What are we eating?” I ask curiously.
“I’m going to make us a lemon garlic pasta with some freshly grated pecorino cheese.”
Okay, this man just got even hotter. I watch his biceps flex under his gray button-down as he moves items around the counter.
“Okay, Miss Harlow”—he rubs his hands together— “are you ready for me to rock your world?”
I swallow down the lump forming in my throat and nod my head anxiously, suddenly confused as to whether we’re talking about food or sex.
He laughs to himself, like he knows what I’m thinking.
“Can I help with anything?” I offer, thinking it might help keep my mind off what is currently taking place in my kitchen.
“I’ve got it covered. You just sit your cute little butt over here and keep me company.”
He hits the counter with his hand.
The man is a myriad of adjectives. He can be serious and grumpy one hour, then flip and become a goofy, fun, lighthearted man.
I think I know which one is the real him. The other is the persona he puts on for the world to protect himself.
I follow his orders and push myself up onto the counter.
He chops some greens and peels the garlic, and I watch in fascination. His sleeves are now rolled up, and his expensive watch is on display.
He begins to open cabinets repeatedly to find what he needs. Amusement must be written all over my face. Once he gets a pot of water boiling, he comes over and places his hands on the counter, caging me in.
“Is there something you have to say?” he asks with a flirty undertone.
I playfully shrug my shoulders. “There are many things I could say.”
“Well, go on. Don’t hold back.”
“Well, for one, you’re a confusing man. Are you suddenly accepting the fact that you can’t stay away from me?”
His eyes hold mine. My heart beats erratically, even though I’m trying to give off a woman who’s confident in her words.
“I’m waving the white flag.” He smirks, then places the chopped garlic in a skillet with some olive oil.
“Wise choice. It was getting pretty embarrassing for you.”
He rolls his eyes. “What’s the other thing that’s got you looking at me like that?”
I go for honesty. “You look really hot, cooking right now.”