“Hmmm. I need to feed you because I have more plans for you tonight. What do you want?” He fondled my breast while waiting for my answer, but he did look me in the eye.
“There’s no place with delivery.”
“Sweetheart, you pay enough, and there’s delivery.”
Chapter 23
Poppy
I woke with Gabe’s palm planted on my lower back, a full bladder and righteous morning breath. The pitch-dark room gave no hints to time. I blinked, disoriented, allowing my sight to adjust to vague shadows. I carefully slid out from the sheets, not wanting to wake Gabe, and hunted for something to wear. We’d fallen asleep together last night after time in the hot tub, followed by a shower, followed by him pulling me into bed. My face warmed as I remembered the shower. I’d never showered with someone else before, and I’d tried to beg off, but he’d had none of it. I’d expected to be mortified, but the way he looked at me—it was like the guy needed glasses, really. But that appreciative gaze never once mocked. He clearly wasn’t lying when he said he was a boob guy. By the time he turned off the shower and wrapped me in an insanely thick warm towel, I believed that maybe my full curves, even the dimply, unfiltered ones on my ass and thighs, were desirable…at least to one man with subpar vision.
I found Gabe’s t-shirt on the floor and pulled it on, then cracked open the door to the bathroom. Sunlight burst through. I snapped the door shut and glanced over at Gabe. He remained comatose. The second door opened to the dim hallway, and I slipped through.
After relieving myself in the hallway bathroom, I searched for a clock. I didn’t normally sleep late, but I also didn’t have blackout shades that provided hotel level darkness. If we’d slept until noon, I’d be screwed in a non-sexy sense.
The black and white clock on the kitchen wall showed it wasn’t even eight yet. I breathed out a relieved sigh. After staring at his coffee maker until I heard the drip, proof I’d figured it out, I moved on to priority two—food.
One glance in his oversized refrigerator revealed Shelley did an outstanding job stocking Gabe’s kitchen. Color filled the vegetable drawer, and as I leafed past bell peppers, carrots, mushrooms, and lettuce, I landed on the spring onions. The small grocery on the island didn’t even stock those. I located the ingredients for an omelet and found some hash browns in his freezer. I set all the components aside and decided to hold off on cooking, since I had no idea how late a sleeper Gabe would be.
From my stance in front of the expansive window, sipping my coffee, I could see a lone runner out on the beach and a ship far off in the distance. The morning sunrays sparkled over the dark blue waters. A warm body came up behind mine, and I almost spilled my coffee as rough growth tickled my neck.
“Morning, beautiful. I like waking up with you in my place.” I stretched in his arms and kissed his chin. “I’d like it even better if I woke with you in my bed.”
“Sorry about that. I woke up and didn’t want to disturb you.” He lifted my coffee cup and took a sip then hummed his approval. “Let me get you a cup.”
He followed me into the kitchen.
“Man, I can’t remember the last time I slept so late. Or so well.”
“It’s not even eight.”
“I’m usually up by four. Out of the bed by five. Trust me, this is late.”
“But your room is like a cave.”
“New York habit. I didn’t set the alarm. Normally, I don’t need to since I don’t sleep well.” He scratched his head, and errant strands of hair stuck up all over his head, making him even more good-looking. His boxers hung lower on his waist, and his cotton t-shirt hugged his biceps and molded to his pecs. Scrumptious. “You making breakfast?” He fingered the egg carton set out on the counter.
“I thought I’d make something.”
“I need to go for a run. You want to go with?”
“I don’t have any running shoes here.” I snapped my fingers with pointed drama. “And…Oh, yeah…I don’t run. Clearly. You don’t get these curves—”
“Uh-huh. None of that.” He waved his index finger in the air like a windshield wiper. “Your curves are perfect. I fantasize about all your curves. There will be no negative talk about this body. Got it?” He stepped forward until he towered over me. I pressed my lips on the dip in his clavicle, above his heart, then pulled him down for a morning minty-fresh kiss.
“Instead of a run, we could find other ways to exercise.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and I shook my head.
“No, I think you wore me out last night. As much as I’d like that, I think I need to give it a little rest.”
“It? You mean your glorious, tight vagina?”
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys. You have to go and use the word.”
“Hell, yeah, I go and use the word. I love the word. Va-gi-na.”
“Well, you definitely know your way around one.” His smug expression reminded me he was fully aware of his talents. “But I’ve got a full day.” I reluctantly stepped away from his warm, delicious body. “Do you prefer an omelet, plain eggs, or scrambled eggs?”
He leaned back on the counter, prepared to watch me work. “Scrambled. Nothing too heavy.”
“Got it.” His request for healthy didn’t shock me given how lean and muscular and really, well, completely perfect he was. “What about you? What have you got on tap?”
“Oh, you know. Another day with lawyers. I have a few meetings scheduled.” He glanced at his bare wrist. “This is a late start for me. But worth it.” He playfully pinched my ass. “What about you?”
“Oh, I’ve got to follow up with the
