Chapter 13

Paisley

I can’t believe I was able to tell him about Daddy.

I have a wall of rocks cemented around my heart, built so strong China would’ve loved my work back in the day when they tried to keep the Mongolians away.

Something about this guy hypnotizes me into some sort of submission.

And although it feels amazing when he reads my body that well and he knows when I need that extra comfort to help me…it scares an equal amount of shit out of me.

Buster collapsed on the bottom of the blanket some time ago, and I haven’t moved from Zeke’s lap. I’m too comfy to move. I enjoy the small comfort of being close to him.

I’ve spent the afternoon staring up at the sky, but now the horizon is burning a fiery red or orange mix. The evening sun is fading into a long, deep sleep.

As the colorful sky transforms the horizon, it’s like a large golden curtain drifts down after a spectacular Shakespearean play.

Overhead, birds fly past, singing a lullaby to the colors, thanking them for a beautiful day. Lord. Now I’m thinking in poetry. What is he doing to me?

Zeke pulls me between his legs and wraps his arms around my waist. Our bodies are nestled together with his head resting on my shoulder.

Quietly, he’s humming a song into my ear. It’s a perfect ending to a perfectly amazing day.

My attention remains focused on the sky. The sun has sunk deeper into the western horizon, and I watch the sun make its final descent as Zeke presses his lips against my neck.

Goose bumps dot my skin.

He moans in my ear, and I gasp.

“You ready to go, baby girl?” Leaning me further back, Zeke tastes my exposed flesh.

My heart pounds in an effort to push the blood through me quick enough so I don’t pass out.

“Mmm,” is all I can respond.

In comfortable silence, we pick up after ourselves and head back to Zeke’s car.

With my head against the seat rest, I look out as day turns to night. The air is cooler. Fall is turning to winter… My stomach rumbles, reminding me that we haven’t eaten much today. I do a quick mental check of what is in my fridge.

“We should stop for dinner,” I tell Zeke, slightly nervous about such a comfortable suggestion.

I’m not this girl, I fuck them and move on to my next… I must have been a guy in my past life. But I don’t want our perfect day to end.

“I was thinking the same thing. Why don’t we stop at the store and pick up some supplies to cook together?” He gives me his signature smile, and my stomach flutters in appreciation.

It isn’t long before we’re heading up to my apartment. Buster looks just as happy to be getting home too.

I pull the chicken filets out of the bag along with a stir-fry mix and a bottle of wine. Zeke pours us both a glass.

“Will you grab the wok out of that cabinet, please?” I point to the one directly in front of him that usually requires I find the step stool if I want anything from inside.

He hands it to me and our hands brush against each other. I fake a sigh and bat my lashes and am rewarded with a grin and a kiss for my acting abilities.

I grab the oil and pour a generous amount of it into the pan, then add the diced chicken into it.

“Point me to the plates, and I’ll set the table,” Zeke tells me. He is standing so close, I can feel the heat from his body.

I wave him over to the other side of the counter and knock my wine down the front of him.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry.” I grab a handful of napkins and blot the front of his shirt, ignoring his pants altogether.

He starts laughing at me, though this is nothing compared to some of my bigger klutzy catastrophes.

“Take your shirt off, and I’ll throw it in the washer right now. I’m so sorry.”

Though getting him half-naked doesn’t sound one bit bad to me, I could just die from the embarrassment of being my clumsy self.

For God’s sake. I need a sippy cup.

Zeke passes me his shirt, and I take a minute to ogle the nicest six-pack in the history of six-packs.

“You know, baby girl, if you wanted me to get naked, all you had to do was ask,” he whispers and my entire body catches on fire. I want to touch him in places I know he enjoys. Visions of his head between my thighs assault my senses, causing me to flush.

“Penny for your thoughts, baby girl?” He backs me against my dining table, the shirt forgotten on the floor.

His arms cage me in place, lips so close…but not close enough. My eyes get heavy with desire, fighting to stay open and watch the most amazing man I’ve ever met.

He reaches for my breasts and squeezes one in each hand, his mouth suckling on the side of my neck. He pushes his body so it’s taut with mine.

I can feel his dick pressed against my stomach. His trail of kisses lead him to my mouth.

He’s turning me inside out.

I glide my hand down his smooth, chiseled chest, my nails tracing each defined muscle. I swallow back a moan as I reach his sacred V.

Zeke grabs the hem of my shirt and shoves it away. He then unclasps my bra before I can draw a breath and uses his mouth and that tongue to drive me to the edge.

I’m too drunk on Zeke to pay attention to Buster, who’s barking his lips off.

Blindly, I unfasten his jeans, reaching a hand in…he’s gone commando. Nice.

His dick is as hard as steel when I free it. I fold my hands around his shaft, squeezing, pumping, sliding over the head and back down.

Slowly, I continue to rub his shaft from base to tip. His hand travels down my stomach, forcing its way through the elastic waistband of my leggings.

He moves my panties to the side with his thick fingers, before he slides one of the fingers between my soaking lips and finds the sensitive bud.

I tilt my hips to give Zeke better access as he rubs my clit. I can feel the orgasm approaching.

He takes over, sending me off to oblivion. Leaning in, I breathe deep, confused. He smells like burning paper.

“Oh my God, Zeke. What the hell?” I need to ask about the smoke, but my hips keep rocking against his finger that rubs my sweet spot and no conscious thought makes it past that.

“Shh,” he replies, kissing my throat as his finger sinks over and over again into my wet core.

“Why does it smell like something’s burning…,” I say, just as I’m about to lose myself to the intensity.

A high-pitched alarm blares, and Buster’s barking becomes more persistent. Damned if I can bring myself to care about anything other than Zeke’s magic fingers. I’m right on the edge.

“Oh, God, please don’t stop.” My hand works his shaft, but Zeke pulls away, and tears spring to my eyes. I’m frustrated and hurt. And damn right confused.

For the smallest moment, a wave of doubt takes over and I wonder what I’ve done wrong.

“Holy shit, Pails have you got a fire extinguisher?” he shouts and runs into the kitchen.

The lustful haze finally clears, and I see smoke filling my space. I watch Zeke throw the pan into the sink and soak a towel in water. He fills the bowl with water and throws it onto the stove, putting out the flames.

Still bewildered, I cannot move. I’m not sure what’s real and what isn’t.

My body is on high alert, longing to finish what he started, but my head is screaming at me to focus on the mess happening right in front of me.

“So…we may have to go out for dinner… Not sure how you feel about charcoal chicken. Seems it doesn’t cook real well with paper towels.” He laughs.

I can’t help but join in with him. “Mr. Matthews, it’s your fault. You distracted me.” I open the windows to get rid of the smoke.

“Well, Miss Smith, if it makes any difference at all, I was pretty distracted myself.” He reaches down to scratch Buster’s ears.

“Well, good.” I can smile now that the alarm has finally quit screaming at us.

“Well, since dinner’s ruined, I’ll have to have something else to appease my appetite.” He walks toward me with all the grace of a panther.

“And what would that be?”

He once again backs me up against the table again. “I think we should pick up right where we left off.”