Spicy Desires: Love on Two Wheels and a Plate

I'd handle it

The morning sun shines brightly through the windows of the kitchen the sun casts a soft warm glow across Brett's kitchen as we share coffee in comfortable silence. I was still a bit stunned from last night, the intensity of our kiss lingers in my mind, it's like I could still feel his lips on mine, and that made it hard to keep my heart steady whenever I looked at him.

But as I took a small sip from my mug the smell fell my nose. Brett's phone sounds on the counter. He glanced at the screen, his easygoing expression quickly fading to something more serious maybe even guarded. He picked up the phone, pressing it to his ear as he walked a few steps away, his back partially turned to me.

"Yeah," he said, his voice low, a tone I hadn't heard before. "No, I already told you I'd handle it." He paused, listening, his jaw clenching slightly. "I don't care what they think. Just keep it quiet, it has to be done, we both know it."

I tried to keep busy, but his words pulled me in, hinting at something he hadn't shared. The way he kept his voice down his a hushed whisper and he glanced back at me every so often, as if he wanted to be sure I couldn't hear which only made my curiosity spike.

"Just stay out of it," he continues with a sharp and commanding tone, carrying an edge that felt out of place in the relaxed morning just moments before. "I'll take care of it myself, if you want something done right do it yourself."

He ended the call and set his phone down with a tight expression, his fingers grip the counter for a brief moment before he turned back to face me, his face slipping back into his usual easygoing smile. But I could still see the tension that lay on his shoulders, the slight unease in his eyes as he looked at me.

"Everything okay?" I ask as I try to sound as casual as possible though I can't quite shake the strange feeling his call had left.

He hesitates for a brief moment as he brushes his hand through his silky hair. "Yeah, just... work stuff. It's nothing," he replies his tone lighter but somehow it seems even less convincing than usual.

I gave him a small nod, choosing not to press, even though my curiosity gnawed at me. It wasn't any of my business. There was just something about the way he spoke, the firmness in his voice, didn't sound like any "work stuff" I could imagine.

Brett must have noticed my leftover curiosity because he came over to me, a much softer look was his eyes now as he reached out to touch my arm. "Hey, don't worry about it," he says gently but yet I still hear his voice steady. "Just... things I have to handle on my own."

The reassurance was definitely there, but so was a noticeable distance, as if he was carefully choosing what he could and couldn't say to me. It still made me wonder, but I nodded anyway just deciding to let it go.

Brett's hand lingered on my arm, his fingers tracing light circles over my skin as his eyes held mine with that familiar intensity. As if he were reading my eyes. The tension from his call seemed to fade the longer he looked at me, replaced by something almost darker and more intense—a look that made my heart race.

He took a step in closer and made me feel small under his eyes oddly enough in the best possible way. "You're too good at distracting me," he murmurs in a low and rough voice with a faint smirk on his lips.

I felt a warmth spread through me, my cheeks starting to flush as I looked up at him. "Distracting you from what?" I teased my voice was soft, breathy, and barely a whisper.

A dangerous spark flashes in his eyes as he leans down. I feel his lips brush close to my ear. "From a lot of things," he said, his voice gravelly.

His fingers trail from my arm up to my chin as he tilts my face so that I can't look away. His eyes held mine and so felt his thumb brush over my lower lip the small act made me shiver. "You trust me, don't you?" he asks his his tone softer, but yet it still carries a quiet dominance.

My breath stills, but I nod so I am completely captivated by the way his eyes seem to search mine, as if he wants to be sure of my answer. "Yeah," I whisper.

He seems satisfied and a slow smile spreads across his face as he moves even closer. His hand slips to the back of my neck and he guides me toward him until there is barely any space left between us. "Good," he murmurs as his lips graze mine in a feather-light touch that left me wanting more.

He held me there, barely letting his mouth touch mine, just enough to drive me crazy, his fingers tangling in my hair as his other hand slipped to my waist, pulling me against him. "You know," he whispered his lips so close I could feel every word he spoke, "I'm trying to take this slow."

I swallow as I feel the intensity of his look and the firm grip of his hands as well as the the heat radiating between us. "What if I don't want slow?" I dare my voice shaking slightly despite my best effort.

He chuckles before his mouth finally presses firmly against mine in a way that is anything but gentle. His kiss was possessive, intense, and almost claiming in a way that left no question about who was in control. I melt into him, my hands grip his shirt as his kiss deepens his hand moves to cradle the back of my head as he holds me exactly where he wants me.

When he finally pulls back I see just how dark his eyes were. "You've been getting under my skin since the moment I met you," he growls as his fingers trace down my spine the small action leaves a trail of heat in their path.

I could barely breathe, as the warmth pooled in my stomach as he looked down at me, his thumb brushing over my cheek. He leans down again and presses one last kiss to my lips, rough and full of promise.

"I'll let you decide how fast we go," he murmurs against my mouth. But there was a look in his eye that told me he already had a pretty good idea of exactly where he wanted to lead and how he would slowly pull me where he wanted us to be.

Maybe I was okay with that.