Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
The compliment was offhand, easily given, and it tickled the back of my neck. Still, I rolled my eyes. “You’re biased because of the sex we just had.”
Kane pulled his tee over his head then grasped my chin, face uncharacteristically serious. “Chef, I’m not biased. You’re gorgeous. It’s off-putting, just how stunning you are. Yeah, at the party with the makeup, the top that did great things for your tits … you looked hot. But hot is a dime a dozen. You, in your chef’s whites, in your kitchen, face flushed, eyes wild and alive—that’s beauty. You on top of me, riding me with your hair wild—that’s beauty. You now…” He tugged my ponytail. “Beauty,” he whispered, then his lips were on mine.
I lost all sense.
“You’re kind of beautiful too,” I whispered back.
He smiled. “I know I’m meant to say that I prefer ruggedly handsome or masculine, but I like that you think I’m beautiful.”
He kissed my nose.
“Now, let’s go get some groceries so there’s something living in your apartment that isn’t just the bacteria on old Chinese takeout.”
So we did.
We walked a handful of blocks together, in the daylight, Kane’s hand in mine. Easy as can be. Natural. We got lost in the crowds of other people going about their days. I got lost in the notion that Kane and I were just a man and a woman grocery shopping together.
It was that simple.
And that complicated.
My fridge was now bursting with all sorts of fruits, vegetables, cold-pressed juices. Apparently, Kane was a juice guy. But also more champagne, beer, copious amounts of candy bars because clearly, he liked cold-pressed juices and sugar. A man of extremes.
The dinner he’d made was baked salmon and salad.
It was delicious.
Then he took me to bed.
And I’d woken up with him.
“You gonna overthink this?” he brushed hair from my face.
“Overthink what?” I blinked up at him, my voice lazy and satisfied and unfamiliar.
Relaxed.
That was the word.
I’d never sounded or felt so relaxed in my life.
Prior to this, to us, I woke up grinding my teeth, not giving myself a second to lay, to scroll or doze or do whatever it was people did in the mornings. I was up, mind calculating the things I had to do, the places I had to go and the amount of time I had to do those things depending on the menu for the evening.
I didn’t have days off.
Not even today. Theoretically, I should’ve been up thirteen minutes ago. I should’ve been getting my coffee from the cart on the end of my block then heading to the docks to see what was freshest. Then it was to the meatpacking district for the New Zealand lamb I’d been waiting on from a supplier no one else knew about.
Then it was straight to the restaurant for prep.
I didn’t have a free minute, let alone thirteen of them. Especially since I had taken the morning off yesterday to grocery shop.
Yet I didn’t get up. I wasn’t entirely sure I could get up, and not just because of my boneless limbs. Because Kane’s arms were around me. Tight, vicelike. It should’ve made me feel caged, claustrophobic, panicked. It had with every other man who’d tried to hold me in any type of way.
Not with Kane.
“Overthink this.” Kane’s fingertip brushed what I knew was the crease between my eyebrows as I contemplated my relaxed state. “I already see you doin’ it.”
I chewed on my lip. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Although I was overthinking, it was a lot less than I normally did.
“I’m not gonna play games.” He cradled my cheek. “Have in the past, I’m not gonna lie. I’ve been an asshole, selfish, letting myself get caught up in bullshit.” He spoke plainly without adornment. “I was not a gentleman, and I don’t intend to be with you.” His other hand cupped me between my legs, and I let out a sharp breath of pleasure.
He grinned wickedly.
“Not in the bedroom … or wherever I feel like fuckin’ you.” He swiped his tongue along his teeth. “But the second I saw you, I knew that there was no way I was playing any type of game, wasting any time to make you mine. Initially, though… Gonna be honest, Chef. I wanted to fuck you, and I didn’t think too far ahead of that. But it didn’t take long to understand that I didn’t just want to fuck you. Wanted to make you mine. And I saw it in your eyes too. Whatever the fuck it is between us is intense as fuck. Doesn’t make much sense. It’s out of both of our control. And you’re about control, Chef. Saw it when I walked into that kitchen, making me hard as a rock. I like seeing you in control, showing your power. But neither of us have power over this, and I’m expecting at some point that’s gonna freak you out. Make you want to run.”