“I was yelling at the ticket guy that we needed to get off the train, but he was really nice and explained that it happens all the time.” She takes a deep breath and rubs her belly. “This has been the best surprise date I’ve ever had.”
“I would have to agree. You ready to go?”
“I don’t want it to end.” I can see the truth in her eyes, and I reach out, take her hand and lead her out of the restaurant.
“Let’s go for a walk. The night’s not over yet.”
We take the path to the park. The sun has set, but the lamps light the way along fountains and trees. It’s a beautiful night, and holding her hand isn’t enough, so I wrap my arms around her and pull her to my side.
“What’s happening?” Paige whispers, more to herself than to me.
“Whatever you want to happen, kitten. I’m not going anywhere.”
* * *
“FUCK.” I HEAR the muttered word as I slowly open my eyes, the morning light peeking through the curtains of my bedroom. I smile against Captain, his chest hair tickling the side of my face. I give a little wiggle of my hips, feeling his morning wood press into me as I breathe him in.
This is how I’ve woken up the last few days, with my body on top of his. I can’t ever get close enough to him. It seems I’m a cuddler. Who would have thought? Maybe years without much physical contact has my body soaking up every bit it can get while it lasts. He grips my hips to stop me from grinding against him. Instead, I sink my teeth into his chest, giving him a playful bite. He murmurs another “fuck”, but this time his voice is so deep I can feel the vibration.
I sit up on his lap, looking down at him laid out on my bed. I still can’t get used to it. He looks like a Greek god with all his thick muscles. Too bad he won’t let me do what I want to him. He looks like he’s been awake for a while. Probably has. Captain is a morning person, and it’s the only fault I’ve found with him over the past few days. That and the fact that he’s hardly touched me since the night with the belt. I’m getting frustrated. This is totally ass backward. Isn’t the man supposed to be pushing for sex and not the woman?
I stretch my arms over my head, doing my best to tease him, and the hands on my hips tighten. His face turns hard as his eyes narrow on me. He jerks his hips, making his cock dig into me, and a soft moan leaves my lips.
“Kitten,” he warns.
“What?” I bat my eyelashes, like I have no idea what I’m doing.
“You’re pushing it.”
“Really?” I rock my hips slightly. “`Cause it feels like I’m rubbing it.” I lean down, a breath away from taking his lips. And right before I almost kiss him, I spring off the bed. Two can play this game.
Well, I think I can play this game. Or at least I’m trying to. Captain is the only man I’ve ever tried to seduce before.
If I’ve learned anything over the past few days, it’s that Captain likes to kiss me. It’s like he can’t go more than twenty minutes without touching his lips to mine. He even steals kisses when we’re at work. It’s cute and silly and maybe a little juvenile to sneak off for a make-out session. But I can’t get enough of it, even when I pretend like it’s annoying me. He smiles every time I tell him “no, we can’t do this at work,” then he kisses me again. I think what I love most about it is that he’s normally all business on the job. But with me, I come first. His need to kiss me overrides everything else. It’s adorable, and I don’t care that it’s immature.
He makes a grab for me, but I dodge him, slipping into the bathroom and locking the door.
“Think I can’t get in there?” He uses his firm, no-nonsense tone, and I roll my eyes.
“I’m naked,” I tell him, pulling off my T-shirt and panties and turning on the shower. I know he won’t come in now. I hear him growl before saying something about breakfast. I giggle.
I jump in the shower and make quick work of my morning routine, throwing on some navy slacks, a white button-up silk top and lilac Prada wedges. I gather my hair into a ponytail and then join Captain in the kitchen. The man knows that the way to my heart is through my stomach, and he’s not pulling any punches. We work around my kitchen like he lives here and knows it even better than I do. I guess he probably does. He’s cooked here more than I have.