Page 221 of Hot Mess
I took a look and pulled out the mildest soap he had on hand. By then he was finished shaving. He wiped his face clean with a towel and leaned in to kiss me again. His face and his lips felt so smooth, I wanted them all over me.
Freshly-shaven or all stubbly, didn’t matter. I could kiss this man all day.
“Do you always shave in the middle of the afternoon?” I asked him.
“I shave after I shower, when I’m all hot and steamy.” He pressed himself against me so I could feel how hot and steamy he was. His dick felt heavy and swollen but not hard, and I felt the answering rush of tingly warmth between my legs.
I kissed him, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding him tight. I was wearing nothing but panties and he was naked. I could feel his nipples, hard against me. His dick was hardening, too. And I really wanted this to end up exactly where it was headed…
But I was starting to feel a little lightheaded, and not in the good way.
Still, the kissing went on for a while, accompanied by some groping… which led to him nudging me toward the bedroom and me digging my heels in and begging, “Please, have mercy. I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I need sustenance.”
He growled, kissed me some more, then smacked me on the ass again. I liked his ass smacks. Sent a very nice shiver through me, one that almost made me say,To hell with food, let’s fuck.
Almost.
Then he let me go and told me, “Get dressed,” over his shoulder as he headed into the bedroom. “I see your panties again and you’re getting fucked.”
Then he kind of gently slammed the door behind himself.
Okay, then.
I got dressed, grinning all the way. Then I used his man soap to remove the remnants of my makeup. With clean face, damp hair and a ridiculous spring in my step, I wandered out to find Ashley in the kitchen with his head in the fridge. He already had plates and utensils on a big wooden tray on the counter.
“Are we going somewhere?”
“Next door. It’s like three o’clock,” he informed me, pulling out some of the takeout containers I’d brought from the Starving Wolf. “We totally missed lunch.”
I had no idea what time it was. Time flew when you were having the best sex of your life, apparently.
“I’m not complaining,” I said. “But I am definitely hungry.”
“Then let’s eat.”
We warmed up a few sandwiches and some yam fries in his oven, then packed up what we needed and headed next door, where we looted booze from Dylan’s fridge again. Then we enjoyed a long, leisurely dinner on Dylan’s patio as the heat of the day gradually started to fade.
“Christ, you Vola women know how to feed a man,” Ashley said, patting his stomach contentedly. We’d eaten like royalty, and yet there was still enough for leftovers tomorrow and then some. I was an okay cook, not the greatest, but I’d definitely inherited my aunt Mireille’s obsession with feeding people.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Seriously. You brought food for like six dudes. Be honest. Were you hoping for a tag-team situation over here?”
“No. I was hoping to bring enough food to satisfy you. It’s kinda one of my biggest fears in life to show up with too little food and have someone go hungry.”
He smiled a little and shook his head. “Why?”
I shrugged. “What if you had friends over and they wanted to eat, too?”
“Then they can get their own damn food.”
“Well, now they don’t have to. There’s plenty of leftovers in case someone drops by.”
He finished his beer and just stared at me.
I finished my cider, then gathered up the leftovers and put them on the tray. Honestly, I would’ve eaten more myself, it was so good. But I’d already had a sandwich-and-a-half, plus sides, and I was stuffed. “I’ll just put these back in your fridge—”
“Stay over,” he said.
