Page 40 of Blue Gold

“You are too tall to hide behind such a small tree, Daniel.” He chuckled while licking his fingers clean.

“Elliot—”

Before I could develop a coherent thought and respond to him, he grabbed my wrist and brought my hand to his lips.

“I told you it would melt.” Darting his tongue out, he licked the ice cream that dripped along the cone and to my⁠—

Hand.

My pulse roared like a drumbeat in my ears as he moved his tongue along my skin, and I held my breath so I wouldn’t let out an embarrassing sound. Every part of my body tensed at his touch, and while my logic told me to pull away, I couldn’t move a muscle. Instead, I kept still until he let go of my hand and straightened.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind you staring at me—” He cleaned the corner of his lip with his thumb. “—but tomorrow morning, skip the shirt when you run, at least, so I’ll have something to stare at, too.”

Jesus Christ.

Instead of waiting for my pathetic ass to come up with an excuse as to what I was doing outside his room at the ass crack of dawn, Elliot said he was going to the bathroom to wash his hands and that we’d meet by the car. Once he left me alone, I exhaled all of the pent-up tension in my body. Only one single breath wasn’t enough to calm down my dick, which was rock solid, thanks to Elliot’s small provocation. He was leading me around like a dog on a leash, and given the erection pressing hard against my pants, I loved it, too. With little to no effort, Elliot was discovering new sides to me. Parts I was all too curious to learn more about, even though I knew I shouldn’t. They say curiosity killed the cat, but in my case, it was a young French prince.

13

DANIEL

“Where should I put this?” I asked, lifting the grocery bags after I helped Elliot carry them into the kitchen.

“Right here is fine,” he said while pointing over the counter. “Thank you,” he added.

Once I placed the bags down, Elliot began unpacking.

“So what now?” I asked, glancing around the kitchen.

“Now I cook.”

I checked the time on my watch to see it was rather early. Since Claudia was still out and I had no more plans for the day, I asked, “Do you need any help?”

Stopping what he was doing, Elliot glanced at me with one quirked brow. “Do you even know how to cook?”

Crossing my arms, I shook my head. “Absolutely not, but I’m sure there’s something I could do, like the dishes? Maybe even chop some onions?”

Elliot pursed his lips before placing a bunch of carrots in front of me. “Maybe we start with something simple?” He cocked his head in the direction of the sink. “After you wash your hands, you can start by peeling those.”

Satisfied he allowed me to join, I smiled. “Yes, Chef,” I said, which sounded so much better in French.

Elliot laughed while shaking his head. “I’m not a chef, okay? Just a cook.”

“Nonsense.” I stopped by the sink. “You’re the greatest chef I’ve ever met.”

Elliot went on explaining why he wasn’t a chef while I turned on the tap to wash my hands. Before reaching for the soap, I removed my wristwatch so it wouldn’t get ruined and thought about taking off my wedding ring, too. I almost did, but somehow, it felt wrong to do so, even if it was just for cooking. Therefore, I kept it on and quickly washed my hands before Elliot could scold me for being too slow.

After demonstrating how to peel the carrots correctly (apparently, there was a right and a wrong way to do so), Elliot left me to my task as he went to change his clothes. He suggested I do the same, saying things could get messy in the kitchen, but I didn’t care enough about my clothes to bother changing. Worst case, I’d toss them away.

Ten minutes later, he returned to the kitchen, looking incredibly sexy with a white apron tightened around his slim waist. Gracefully, he began working his magic in the kitchen while glancing at me every now and then to make sure I was doing things his way. An hour into our cooking, I was promoted to peeling and cutting not just the carrots, but potatoes, too.

“So what’s so unique about coq au vin that you had to cook it today?” I asked, putting another peeled potato aside before grabbing a new one.

“Pardon?” He lifted his head from the pot he was stirring.

“This morning, Claudia said you insisted on cooking this today… I wondered why.”

“Oh.” Quietly, Elliot turned down the heat and moved away from the stoves to pick up a knife and a few onions. “I woke up feeling a bit lonely, and this meal… It reminds me of home,” he said, almost to himself, and I found it to be heartbreaking. Especially because I knew I had a hand in him feeling lonely.