“Cheddar broccoli soup,” she answers.
“Smells really good.” I place a kiss on her neck and then retreat to the bathroom with a pair of shorts in hand that I grabbed from my laundry stash.
Unsure of what my next plan of attack is, I hope we can simply have a normal night tonight. But who knows? That soup could be laden with salt, causing me to have one hell of a time with heartburn later.
I shuck my shirt, jeans, and boxers and slip into my shorts so at least I can be comfortable tonight. I’ve been trying to be polite and stay clothed, but fuck it, if she can wear another one of those skimpy silk sets with the crop top and no bra, I can walk around without a goddamn shirt.
I gather my clothes and exit the bathroom, only to find Cora setting two bowls on the table. When she turns around, her eyes land directly on my chest. She wets her lips, and that’s another open invitation to do what I want to her.
I’m sure I’ll fucking touch her somehow tonight, because I can’t seem to keep my hands off her. Although, the vibrator has been doing all the hard work. I’ve yet to make her come on my fingers, tongue, or cock. But I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out, especially when she walks around in outfits like that.
“You look hot,” I say, not hiding how I feel, because, fuck, her nipples are tenting the silk of the shirt, and I know exactly what those nipples taste like.
Her cheeks blush. “Thank you, I guess.”
She retreats back to the kitchen, then brings out a cutting board with a knife and baguette served on it. “Dinner is ready.”
I toss my clothes in the hamper and say, “I can see that.” I walk up to her, place my hand on her hip, and say directly into her ear, “Looks fucking amazing.”
Goosebumps erupt over her skin as she looks up at me. “Thanks.”
We each take a seat. I watch her cut a piece of bread off the baguette and then dip it in her soup. When she takes a bite and savors the flavor on her tongue, I assume it’s safe.
But just to make sure . . . “Is there ex-lax in here?”
She chuckles. “Nothing is wrong with the soup. I swear.”
Okay, now I’m really uneasy because I feel like she’s being nice. Why is she being nice? Does she want something? Does she know something?
When she was being vindictive, I knew she was after one thing—an annulment—and that was all she wanted from me, but right now, her easygoing attitude is incredibly unnerving.
“I want to believe you . . .”
She chuckles again, gets up from her seat, and rounds the table, only to push me back and sit on my lap. My hand falls to her thigh. I immediately like this position.
She takes my spoon from my hand, scoops up a large helping of the soup and eats some, then she takes another, and another.
“See?” she asks, looking over her shoulder. “It’s fine.”
She goes to get up, but I pin her back down on my lap. “You can stay here, you know.”
“If you let me sit on your bare dick, I will.”
I chuckle and release her. “You know what you need to do to earn that right.”
She groans and returns to her own chair, pulling one foot up on the seat. “You realize you’re the most infuriating man. I’m offering you so much and you refuse to take it because you’re stubborn.”
“I’m not stubborn, you are,” I counter. “All you have to do is either wear one of my shirts or come to bed naked, and you refuse to.”
She stirs her spoon in her soup and then looks up at me through her lashes. “Because it means something to you, it’s a symbol of giving in, and I’m not about to give in.”
Interesting. Not sure I’d ever have imagined her admitting that, but it’s good information to know.
Wanting to change the subject, because I don’t want to push her too far, I ask, “Did Stella talk to you about some indoor pool party at her house before Thanksgiving?”
She nods and dips a piece of her bread in her soup. “She wanted to get everyone together before the holidays. Why? Did you get an invite?”
I nod. “Romeo invited me, which I’m assuming means staff will be there?”
“Most likely. Usually, those gatherings are full of staff members, but she told me it was going to be quiet, just some close friends.” She glances up at me. “I’m assuming you were invited because Stella knows about you and me.” She rolls her eyes. “And frankly, she’s Team Marriage.”
“Really?” I ask with a smirk. “Tell me more about that.”