Page 39 of Masked Secrets
As if reading my mind, he says, “I’d happily spend all day here with you. What do you say to breakfast in bed?”
My stomach growls at the mention of food. “I’m starving as you just heard, so breakfast is a definite yes. Where can we find food? It’s not like they have room service here.”
“Something tells me that they do. Where’s the remote for Genie?”
I roll over, pick up the remote from the bedside table, and hand it to Stuart. “Here you go.”
He pushes a button and speaks into the device. “Genie, can we order breakfast to be delivered to us?”
Genie responds, “Good morning, Brooke and Stuart. Of course, you may order breakfast. What would you like?”
“Brooke, you order. I like everything,” he says.
“Okay, Genie, we would like coffee and orange juice. We’d also like two omelets with ham, mushrooms, and cheese along with toast and fresh strawberries.”
“Thank you for your order, Brooke. You don’t have to wait for coffee. A single-serve coffee maker and pods are available in the kitchenette. The rest of your breakfast will be delivered inapproximately thirty minutes. If you need anything else, please let me know.”
“Thanks, Genie,” I say, laughing.
“It’s time for Genie to go back to sleep now,” he says, pushing the button to turn off listening mode.
“I have to admit that she’s handy for breakfast orders.”
“That she is. I’d still rather she not listen to us.”
“Agreed. Would you like me to make coffee.”
“Definitely not. You should stay under the covers. Let me take care of you. Do you like cream or sugar?” he asks as he crawls out of bed, slipping on his skin-hugging, black boxer briefs.
My heart skips a beat. Insisting on making the coffee is a small thing, but it’s so considerate and unexpected.
“Just plain for me. The stronger the better,” I say, sinking back against the plush pillows and closing my eyes.
Within minutes, the aroma of my favorite morning elixir permeates the air. I sit up, propping myself against a pile of plush pillows as Stuart approaches, extending a large white mug.
I accept the cup, lowering my nose into the swirl of steam rising above the rim. Breathing deeply, my mouth waters in anticipation as a low groan escapes my mouth.
Stuart chuckles, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t think it’s orgasmic.”
I playfully punch him in the arm. “You’re so funny. No need to be jealous though. You would win the competition every time. But coffee’s the next best thing. And yes, I’ll admit it. I’m addicted.” I sigh, blowing across the rim, anxious for my first sip of the day.
“Good to know. You had me worried there for a minute. I’d hate to come in second to coffee in the pleasure category.”
The doorbell rings, interrupting our banter.
“That must be breakfast. I’ll get it.”
Shaking a finger at me, he says, “No. Remember, I’m taking care of you this morning. So, be a good girl and stay right where you are.”
“Last night, I didn’t get the impression you wanted me to begood,” I tease.
He lets out a hearty laugh, gives me a kiss on the forehead, and walks to the door, mumbling, “You’re going to be the death of me.”
I sip my coffee, hoping to calm the butterflies in my stomach. Stuart is killing me too, but in such an amazing way. It’s as if I’m his princess for the day.
Stuart pushes a wheeled cart laden with food toward his side of the bed and crawls back under the covers.
“Let’s start with the strawberries and whipped cream,” he says with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.
