Denial (40 page)

I look up and find him bewildered, but smiling. To my delight, his hair is all messed up for once and he only has one sock on, but it makes him that much cuter. We stare at each other for a moment, the calm before an inevitable storm of questions. And, so unlike me, I give him my best come hither eyes and beckon him over with a curl of my finger.

He gets here very quickly, arms outstretched and ready for me to fall into. They encircle me so tightly I can’t breathe, his face burrowing into my neck and inhaling deeply. My arms are trapped between us and I feel his
heart racing beneath my fingertips. I can’t escape his grasp to hug him back, so I turn my face and plant a kiss on his jaw.

“Hey,” I croak, and my body tenses because it hurts to talk. I want to ask him what’s got into him, but I can’t and I think I know anyway.

His head jerks up, nearly knocking into mine. It’s my voice. He tips my chin up and kisses my throat softly before pulling back to stare at my face. Based on that concerned expression, he doesn’t like what he sees. Feeling self-conscious and desperate to distract him, I pop the bite of brownie I was saving for him into his slightly gaping mouth. It snaps shut and his eyes widen.

“Did you heat this up in the microwave?” he mumbles, still chewing.

“Yes.” That sounded a lot better.

“Maya, I was very specific about how to thaw these.”

“I thought we were going to ignore the specifics from now on.”

He grins. “Not about food, we’re not.” That raised eyebrow tells me he’s only half joking.

“I couldn’t wait.

“I’d say I’d give you a pass, but I guess you can do whatever you want now. How long have you been up?”

“Only for fifteen minutes.”

Swallowing, his expression become unsure, a face I spent too much time looking at last night. “I thought that you left.”

“Nope. I was going to come back to bed, but I was too hungry.” I move in and press my lips against his, but just a peck even though I’m still pretty horny. Especially because I’m still horny. We need to talk.

Smiling back at me, he
sniffs the air. “Is that bacon?” I nod sheepishly. “You’ve been up for fifteen minutes and you’ve already eaten half a brownie and started cooking bacon?”

“It might have been closer to twenty minutes. And I’ve eaten a brownie and a half.” A bad idea, because my stomach hurts. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your shoulder.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your throat,” he shoots back. Kissing my forehead, he moves to the freezer and starts digging around, coming up with a pint of raspberry sorbet we made a few days ago. No sugar. He hands it to me, lid off, along with a spoon. “Eat some of this.”

“Don’t we have any real ice cream?”

“No, but we have an ice cream maker, cream, and sugar. But someone had two brownies and probably has a stomach ache now, so we’ll have to wait on the real ice cream.”

I frown at him. “I can wait. Let me see your shoulder.”

“Maya, you sound awful. Please take a few bites.”

“If I do, will you let me look at your shoulder?”

He groans in exasperation. “Fine. But don’t freak out. It’s not a big deal.”

I doubt that, but I refuse to argue with you this morning because you were beyond sweet last night
. “I’ll try.” He looks at me skeptically while I take a bite. Okay, this is very good, better than ice cream. It does make my throat feel better. And my stomach.

“Did you have a plan for breakfast?”

“No.”

“So, something that involves bacon?”

“Just bacon is fine.”

“I’ll make some eggs,” he laughs.

“You said I could look at your shoulder!”

He sighs. “I did.”

I pull out one of the barstools. “Take your shirt off.”

Reluctantly, he complies, wincing as his arms rise
over his head. I stifle a curse and my eyes burn. That is scary. Every single tooth broke the skin, but the swelling is what is most disconcerting. I’m not going to freak out. I’ve put him through enough of that.

“You already had the peroxide and gauze ready?”

“It was the first thing I did. Even before the brownies and bacon.” He’s staring at me while I treat the wound. This has got to be extremely painful, but that doesn’t keep my arousal from spiking when I’m this close to him with his shirt off and I can feel his breath on my neck. “I want you to restrain me the next time we have sex.” My stomach flutters when I think about the last time. He was incredible, but it was more than that. I hope.

“No!”

“Isaac, this is ridiculous.”

“We’ll figure something else out.” I’m about to protest when he cuts me off. “I want your hands on me.”

How do you argue with that? “Then we’ll gag me.”

“No we fucking won’t. One, you don’t like gags.” I’m flattered that he remembers. “And two, I can’t imagine fucking you without kissing you. Not yet anyway.”

“Neither can I.”

That’s all it took. Lurching upwards, he grabs me by the hair and clamps his mouth onto mine. I can’t believe we can do this whenever we want to now. We can do anything we want to do now. I slump forward into his chest, his hard thighs surrounding mine and his erection presses into my hip. We get lost together for a moment until he pulls me back.

“Are you really going to stay?” That insecure face. I melt every time.

“Yes,
” I peep. He looks like he wants to ask me something else, but kisses me instead. I want him so badly, but he’s not going to distract me. I squirm away.

“Let me finish.” I move to cover the broken skin with ointment, but he grabs my wrist. Hard. “It will heal faster.”

“No.”

“This might scar without it.”

“Exactly.”

“Isaac…”

“I said no, Maya.” Dammit. I promised not to argue.

“Scars are forever.”

“Exactly.” His gaze locks with mine and he gives me that perfect cocky smile.

“But this is–”

“Your mouth.” He kisses me forcefully. “And I want it.”

Desire swells between my legs as my stomach flips over. That is so hot. And sweet. This entire time, I’ve been telling myself that I don’t mean anything to him, but I can’t say that anymore after last night. It is his shoulder, his reminder. I promised myself I wouldn’t argue.

“Fine,” I sigh. Kissing my hand, he lets me go, his eyes never breaking away from mine.

“It’s clean, just forget about it for now. How long has that bacon been in the oven?”

“Maybe ten minutes.”

“And you’re starving?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck!”

“What?”

“You. You’re what,” he mutters, striding over to me. His kiss is so hungry. “I don’t want to wait.”

“We could probably sneak in a quickie.”

He snorts. “I don’t do quickies, Maya.”

“Isaac!” I squeal as he scoops me into his arms.

“I can manage quick showers though,” he says, which explains why we’re headed to the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“So you can get me dirty again?”

All I get in response is that arrogant throaty laugh as he turns on the water
and covers my skin with kisses.

*****************

“What are we making?” I ask.

“Spaghetti.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean, that’s it? A fresh marinara sauce is a lot of work, and then of course there are the meatballs. ”

“Now this sounds really time consuming.”

“It is. A much needed distraction, remember? So we can stop fucking for a little while.”

“I’m hungry now.”

Snickering, Isaac picks an apple out from the fruit bowl on the counter and takes a big bite before handing it to me. After a few chomps of my own, I realize he is still staring at me, so I give him a quizzical look.

“Do your hands hurt?” He circles my wrists in his fingers and takes a bite of the apple I’m holding, chewing while he inspects my hands for damage.

“Not now, but they did when you were grabbing them.”

“You should have stopped me.”

“I would have had to take my mouth off of you.”
And you were so cute when you asked me to hold hands while I sucked your dick, I would have let you break my fingers before I let go
. Leaning in, Isaac gives me an apple flavored kiss before releasing one of my wrists to toss the core aside.

“You know, I’d like to keep deluding myself that I won’t hurt you, but that isn’t exactly safe because it isn’t exactly true. I kind of lose it with you, Maya. And I don’t… that’s never happened before.”

“You’re telling me. I’m the one who went all zombie on your shoulder.”

“It is fine, but if the situation were reversed, I’d be devastated, so I get where you’re coming from.”

“We’ll figure something out and we don’t have to worry about it right now.” I kiss across his knuckles playfully and pull my hands free to grab the recipe. “Peel and seed six pounds of tomatoes? How the hell do you do that?”

“It’s actually fun, you’ll like it.” He fills a large pot with water and puts it on a high flame. “Let’s chop some onions and peppers while we wait for that to heat up.”

Smugly, I grab an onion from the bag and begin dicing it into submission. “Do you remember the first time you showed me how to cut an onion?”

“I do. You mangled it, and I thought it was adorable. Now look at you.”

“You’re still a lot better at it.”

“You’ve been doing this for a week. I’ve literally chopped thousands of onions, Maya.”

“I know you say you didn’t like culinary school very much, but you seem to enjoy cooking.”

“It’s been a lot more enjoyable since the first time I taught this girl I have a huge crush on how to cut an onion.”

“Oh, really? Why is that?” I’m grinning like an adolescent.

“She told me she wants to be friends. No benefits.”

“How’s it working out?”

“We’ve had some ups and downs, but so far it’s been pretty fucking awesome.”

“Even without the benefits?”

He laughs and leans over to kiss my temple. “Yeah, that arrangement didn’t last very long. But that hasn’t been my favorite part.”

“What has?”

“I think she might have a crush on me too.”

“I’m pretty sure she does.” I scoot closer and kiss his shoulder.

“I’m still trying to figure out why.”

“Well, you do have a lot going for you, other than your spectacular body and gorgeous face, you know.”

“Really? Like being fantastic in bed?” Shooting me that trademark cocky smile, he tosses another onion my way.

“Well, that never hurts. But you’re pretty laid back. Great taste in music. Easy to talk to. Very considerate. Funny. Smart.”

“She’s a lot smarter.”

“Book smart maybe. But she’s been told she has the social and emotional intelligence of an inanimate object on several occasions.”

“Who fucking told you that?” Slapping his knife down, Isaac turns to face me. He’s a little angrier than he should be.

“It’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it.”

“Did he say it?”

“No, actually. Just teachers, counselors, friends, other boyfriends. It’s a common theme.”

“How many other boyfriends have you had?” He’s particularly cute when he’s just normal jealous, but I’m feeling a little put on the spot.

“Not a lot, really. Compared to most other girls my age.”

“In other words, a number you could easily recall.”

I sigh. This went downhill fast. “There were 3 before Luke. That counted. Nothing lasted more than a few months.”

“How many didn’t count?”

“Dating in college is pretty ambiguous. You start seeing someone, sleeping with them, and until they tell you that you’re the only person they’re screwing, you’re just kind of in this gray area. There were several those.”

“What a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, it is, I guess,” I laugh.

“What about the three that did count? Why did you break up with them?”

“They all broke up with me.”

The shocked look on his face makes me blush. “Why would anyone break up with you?”

“I think my favorite line was ‘I never thought I’d actually say that I wished my girlfriend had mood swings.’”

“
Why would he say that?”

“You might have a hard time believing this after last night, but I’m told I’m a little flat. Emotionally. Not just my chest.”

“Whoever told you that is full of shit. On both accounts.”

“Maybe now, for the emotional stuff anyway. But it took a long time to get there. My brain doesn’t
work the same way other people’s do. Especially most women.”

“It works great. Like, extremely, impossibly well.”