Page 92 of For One Night

“Sure,” he grunts.

“I need in … here.” I stretch across him, placing my hand on his rock-hard biceps to steady myself.

“Don’t let me get in your way,” he growls in my ear, sending crazy vibes through my body.

I brush my breasts against his chest. “Just need to grab this.”

“Is there anything I can get out for you?” His voice dips low and raspy.

I bend over, rubbing my ass on him. “I think I found it.” I smirk when his cock hardens.

“I believe you found something,” he murmurs. I turn to face him; my back is pressed against the counter.

“I’ll get this going if you need to go rest.”

He bites his lip. “I think I’ll shower and put some clothes on since you insist on staying.”

“Don’t get dressed for me.” I smile as a wicked grin plays on his lips.

“I’m thinking clothes is a better option right now.” He chuckles when I blush after realizing what I said.

“Probably.” I close my eyes. “I didn’t mean to not get dressed. I only meant, to not overdress.” I shake my head. “What I’m trying to say is don’t overdress.”

He full on laughs now. “I understand.”

“You look as though you’re already feeling better.”

“I’ll be fine.” He casts his gaze down.

“Go … shower and please, use some soap.” I giggle. “I’ll have this ready by the time you get out.”

His eye twitches. “Are you saying I stink?”

“No, not at all.” I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. “But I really like your cologne.”

His face relaxes. “You do?”

“In case you didn’t notice, I still have your shirt.” I wink.

“Why did you take my shirt?”

Shit! Think, Lola. “I needed to cover up my”—I peek down—“assets on my walk of shame.”

“I liked the dress.” He turns to walk away, and I have to watch the show. He rewards me by reaching behind his head and dragging his shirt off.

I blow out all of my built-up tension. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

I throw the ingredients in a pot and get it started while he’s gone. I don’t think he’s physically ill, but who am I to tell someone they don’t deserve a mental health day. I grab some bowls and set out the chips.

I busy myself getting things ready while he’s showering. I walk through the house, picking up cups, glasses, and even his clothes. The ocean catches my attention, and I open the door to allow a breeze to filter through.

“Breathtaking.” I turn back to the kitchen just as Lennox gets to the top of the stairs. He has shorts and a shirt on again, and I like seeing him this way. “Perfect timing, let’s eat.”

“It smells great.” He follows me through to the kitchen.

“Have a seat, and I’ll grab the food.” I reach for a dishcloth when I feel something by my side.

“Let me get this. It’s heavy and hot, and I’d feel terrible if you got burnt.” I’m stunned for a moment. Carter never helped me around the house.