{BOOK TWO}...Daunted by the singular tastes and dark secrets of the beautiful, tormented young entrepreneur Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook has broken off their relationship to start a new career with a Seattle publishing house.
But desire for Taehyung...
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Jungkook P.O.V.
As sanity returns, I open my eyes and gaze up into the face of the man I love. Taehyung's expression is soft, tender. He strokes his nose against mine, bearing his weight on his elbows, his hands holding mine by the side of my head. Sadly, I suspect that's so I don't touch him. He plants a gentle kiss on my lips as he eases himself out of me.
"I've missed this," he breathes.
"Me too," I whisper.
He takes hold of my chin and kisses me hard. A passionate, beseeching kiss, asking for what? I don't know. It leaves me breathless.
"Don't leave me again," he implores, looking deep into my eyes, his face serious.
"Okay," I whisper and smile at him.
His answering smile is dazzling; relief, elation, and boyish delight combined into one enchanting look that would melt the coldest of hearts.
"Thank you for the iPad."
"You are most welcome, Jungkook."
"What's your favorite song on there?"
"Now that would be telling." He grins. "Come cook me some food, swain. I'm famished," he adds, sitting up suddenly and dragging me with him.
"Swain?" I giggle.
"Swain. Food, now, please."
"Since you ask so nicely, sir, I'll get right on to it."
As I scramble out of bed, I dislodge my pillow, revealing the deflated helicopter balloon underneath. Taehyung reaches for it and gazes up at me, puzzled.
"That's my balloon," I say, feeling proprietary as I reach for my robe and wrap it around myself.
Oh jeez... why did he have to find that?
"In your bed?" he murmurs.
"Yes," I flush. "It's been keeping me company."
"Lucky Charlie Tango," he says, in surprise.
Yes, I'm sentimental, Kim, because I love you.
"My balloon," I say again and turn on my heel and head out to the kitchen, leaving him grinning from ear to ear. -
Taehyung and I sit on Jimin's persian rug, eating stir-fry chicken and noodles from white china bowls with chopsticks and sipping chilled white Pinot Grigio. Taehyung leans against the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He's wearing his jeans and his shirt with his just-fucked hair, and that's all. The Buena Vista Social Club croons softly in the background from Taehyung's iPod.
"This is good," he says appreciatively as he digs into his food.
I sit cross-legged beside him, eating greedily, beyond hungry, and admire his naked feet."I usually do all the cooking. Jimin isn't a great cook."
