Must Date The Chef

|| 52.

Water from the overhead shower jets down on us, I close my eyes and moan as Paul's fingers dig into my scalp, massaging the shampoo into my hair to rid it of the residue gel. My eyes fly open when his hand strays to my breast, I frown and his evil chuckles echo in the bathroom. He returns to his task, rinses the lather from my hair. Soapy water rolls down to our feet and disappears through the drain. A content sigh leaves my lips as he repeats the motion with the hair conditioner, the intimate silence only interrupted by the sound of running water.

We keep at it until our bodies are free from lather, I offer him one of my white towels once we step out of the shower, wrap one around my hair and he rewards me with a heart-melting smile. With our fingers laced, towels wrapped around our waist, chest and hair, we saunter to the room in silence.

"You're so quiet," he states when we are standing in front of the wardrobe. I gulp.

This morning was not my first time but with Paul, it felt like a whole new experience and I want a repeat of it. That is not the issue though, I am yet to tell him. He pulls me close to him, my towel drops to my feet and I yank his so we can both be in similar state. His chuckles taunt me, I refuse to look at him when he hooks a finger under my jaw.

"Ify." My eyes raise to his face, I blink and lick my lips when he kneads a nipple, then cups my mounds. "Your breasts are so tiny."

My jaw slacks, I hit him on his arm and take steps away from him. "Hey," I start. Without meaning to, my gaze lowers to my chest, I palm my full breasts and my eyes narrow. This boyfriend of mine is an idiot. "They are not small, they are perfect for my shape."

He closes the distance between us, I reach for my towel but he tugs it out of my grasp. Folding my arms on my chest, I look away when his fingers brush my cheek and swat his hands when they rest on my shoulders. His lips pucker, I shrug and keep my eyes trained on the door, ignoring his whispered pleas. I am not upset with his snide remark because I know he doesn't mean it but it feels good to have him on the other end of the spectrum, begging for forgiveness.

"I was joking na. Babe," he mutters. My eyes finally meet his face, his brows furrow and he bats his long lashes at me. "You looked dull, I wanted to cheer you up. Asa nwa," I stifle the urge to smile, "baby la hot. Your breasts are perfect, I love them. I love you."

When I remain mute, he hoists me up and my legs snake around his waist. "Sorry na." His teeth graze my neck, his muffled voice causes sparks to dance on that part of my body and I whimper softly. "Smile for me."

On cue, I erupt into a fit of giggles, my arms sneak around his neck, he scowls and lets out a hiss when he realises I was messing with him. I scream when his arms around my waist relax briefly, he arches a brow as if daring me to question his revenge and I scowl. A ghost of a smile flits across his face, my frown turns upside down and our foreheads meet after I place a kiss on his.

"Why are you so quiet? What's wrong?" he asks in a whisper. Confusion laces his eyes, I palm his face and tug on his lower lip.

Tucking my head into the crook of his neck, my head towel slips and I tighten my arms around him as he struts to drop me on the bed. He kneels between my legs, I lose my train of thoughts when his palms close over my breasts. I suck in my lip when he tickles my belly button, my eyelids flutter rapidly.

My fingers weave into his wet hair, I am reminded of my kinky hair causing water to trail a path down my back. He spares me a glance before taking a nipple in his mouth, I gasp and my head falls back as a series of moans escapes me. My back connects with the bed, his face hovers above mine before his lips descend on mine. Warmth settles in my chest, I push my tongue into his mouth, touching every corner like it's our first kiss.