Must Date The Chef

|| 25.

The bed dips under my weight, I roll to the side, my hands blindly reaching for my midnight gist partner who barely allowed me a wink of sleep. He's not there. My eyes fly open, the back of my hand goes over my mouth to stop a yawn from slipping out. I blink, trying to clear the rest of the sleep from my eyes. My gaze lowers to the visible part of my body on the unusually soft bed, my mind draws blank at the blue, T-shirt I am wearing. It doesn't belong to me.

Panic starts to set in but one look around the room, the portraits hanging from the wall and everything flood back. Paul is my boyfriend now. I spent the night at his place. We are officially dating, no more games. The thought warms me over, it feels good to put a label to our relationship and also know the feeling between us is still mutual.

Another yawn escapes my lips, I shuffle to the empty parlour and retrace my step to the kitchen. That's the only place he can be and that is where I find him, doing what he does best with a vigour that makes me wonder how long he has been awake.

Standing by the door to watch him at work, my first time of seeing him in his element, a smile finds its way to my lips as his hand moves expertly over the chopping board, dicing vegetables with a speed I will never attain. Cooked chicken and sausages sit in separate bowls in front of him and I drool as the muscles on his back flex when he increases the speed of his dicing. I feel myself getting hot all over again, my teeth sink into my lip and I moan softly. He is hot.

My feet start moving before I realise it, my arms wrap around his waist from behind and my cheek presses flush against his back. I inhale his strong, masculine scent mixed with the fragrance of the liquid soap I used last night and sigh. He smells good, better than I do. I also need to shower.

"Good morning, babe," I greet. His hands come over mine, he gives them a small squeeze and retracts them to turn around. My head falls to one side. "You slept well?"

I slept well, better than I have in days, even with the lack of sex. Apparently, sex isn't the only way to get a great night's rest. Cuddling in bed with your partner, your back pressed to his chest and his arms around your waist will have you purring and sleepy in no time.

"Yeah, I did," he replies with a peck to my forehead. His lips trail down the bridge of my nose to my mouth and he deepens the kiss. "Morning, love. How was your night?"

"It was good, I slept well," I murmur and beam at his pet name for me, bringing his face back for another kiss. I can never get enough of it, his kisses and the sparks that light up my body when our lips connect.

The durag on my head slips when his hand moves to the back of my head and I chuckle when he puts it on instead of giving it back. We had to find something to replace my bonnet and he offered this. I already know I'll be taking it home with me but he doesn't know that yet. Neither does he know I might be going with a few fancy hoodies I spotted in his closet. After all, that's what girlfriends are for.

"No work today?" I ask when we break off.

His hands halt on my chest, he palms my breasts through his shirt, I moan and the shirt rides up. My hands go around his neck, he lifts me and my legs find their way around his waist. We stagger to a corner in the kitchen, he places me on the counter and begins littering kisses all over my neck, everywhere his mouth can reach while his hand sneaks under my shirt. I want more.

I hiss as his palms cover the mounds on my chest. My breathing becomes ragged when he rolls my nipples between his fingers without stopping his kissing assault. I moan and tug on his shirt. His fingers caress my inner thighs, I gulp, a lump lodge in my throat as my fingers run through his scalp and my body goes still when he cups my butt. I am not putting on any underwear.