First Choice ✓

Chapter 28. S

Sara

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I wake up feeling energized. There's a heavy weight on my waist that I've almost forgotten the feel of. It's nice to sleep next to another warm body. The body of a strong male.

Yesterday, after we finished dessert, he went down to the club for work and I stayed up in his condo. I'm slightly ashamed to say that I took the time to snoop around a little. He has an entire walk-in closet. There's a big office on the opposite side of the bedroom.

Anton had promised he'd try to come up to check on me through the night. But it was so busy, so he only had the time to come up once. He texted me throughout the night though. I used the free time to get some work done before going to bed.

Now, early in the morning, I carefully move his arm away from my waist, where it's been around me all night. I was in light slumber when I felt him get behind me and pull me closer to him. It's only around seven thirty. My natural body clock is used to waking up early and I can't for the life of me fall back asleep.

I don't want to wake him up, so I tiptoe to the bathroom. Brushing my teeth without turning the electric toothbrush on, so the noise doesn't disturb him, I then change into a more modest pyjama than the one I slept in.

Because I'm not sure of the time he came home and how many hours of sleep he needs, I decide to go on with my day and let him wake up when he does on his own.

I did the dishes yesterday, even though Antonio extremely disapproved when he saw the one time he came up here to check on me, but didn't put them away yet. During my snooping, I was searching for a dishwasher but couldn't find it. He doesn't have one for some reason.

A task that would've taken me five minutes is taking over twenty. I'm moving slowly and putting every ceramic plate down like it's a bomb—afraid it's going to go off any second. Plates make so much noise when you're trying to be quiet.

It's almost noon now, and I think he's going to wake up soon, so I start making breakfast, or lunch actually. I already had a banana, but I still need my coffee, though. I know how noisy the fancy machines can get while grinding the fresh beans so I held off not on making one, not wanting to disturb his sleep.

Putting the last vegetables in the pan, big and strong arms circle my waist. I smile.

"Good morning," I tell him.

He mumbles something and pushes his face into my neck, inhaling a deep breath.

"Did you sleep well?"

"The best." He leaves soft kisses along my neck and shoulder.

"Did I wake you?"

"Nah," he sneaks his hand below my camisole, skin to skin now. "I couldn't stay longer in bed when I know there is a beautiful woman in my house," he inches his head forward, getting a better look at the omelet. "And she's cooking me breakfast as well."

I bite my lip and turn off the stove.

"Did that sound sexist?" He asks after a beat. I turn my face sideways and frown. "The kitchen comment. I swear I didn't mean it in a bad way."

"Yeah, I know. It's okay." After putting the food on two plates, I turn around, with his arms slightly loosening to let me move around.

His eyes are slightly puffy, and his hair is like a bird's nest. He looks kind of cute. His chest is bare of any fabric, only wearing a pair of white Armani boxerbriefs, and I let my eyes admire the sculpted abs and tattoos for a moment.

When I meet his eyes again, he smiles before leaning in and grazing his lips to mine. Before I can deepen the kiss, needing more of him, he groans and pushes harder. My back digs softly in the counter and he cups the back of my head to prevent me from moving back too much from the force of his kiss.

His kisses are exhilarating. The way he softly caressed my lips with his last night was so much different from how he's kissing me now. And I don't know which one I like more.

He pulls away, a glint in his eyes.

"Good morning." He says, and I let out a chuckle.

"Good morning to you too. I made omelette. Do you like it? I can make something else if—"

"Sara," he cuts me off with a small smile tilting at the side of his lips. "Whatever you make I like."

"Okay, good." I breathe out a soft sigh.

We sit next to each other on the kitchen island and eat. I ask him how his night went, and he asks me what I did here last night.

After we finish eating, I stand up and begin to take the plates when he stops me with both his hands on my hips. "I'll do them this time."

"It's alright, I don't mind."

"But I do." He squeezes my hips and moves me so I'm standing between his legs. I try hard not to glance down at his crotch that's covered only in a thin material of boxers. And it's not doing much to cover his bulge.

"What do you wanna do today?" He asks casually.

Uh, aren't we supposed to fuck now? It's the whole reason I'm here.

But I'm not saying that, so I play along and say the first thing that comes to mind. "Minigolf."

Minigolf? Really, Sara?

"Minigolf. I've never done it. So I'm down." His tone is serious, his face blank of any traces of humor.

Now I'm confused.

He gets to his feet and leans his back on the granite island, with me still in front of him.

"What time do they open?" He asks, continuing with the same topic.

"Actually, mini golf is quite boring. We should do something else." I say, hoping he'd read the arousal in my eyes and fuck me. I'm not going to tell him, 'hey, I really want you to fuck me and do whatever you want to my body.'

He narrows his eyes a little. "What do you suggest?" Him being the biggest tease ever, is totally trying to make me confess what I really want to do today.

"I—I can't think of anything right now," I stammer. Shit, with the way his eyes are looking at me, pinning me in my place, it's getting harder to speak.

"How 'bout bowling?" He teases.

"Um, sure," I say, not giving up yet. Two can play the same game. Though, I'm sure he's going to win eventually.

"Tell me what you want, Sara." He demands, but his voice still has a soft tilt to it.

"Bowling is fine." I whisper.

"Sara . . ." He urges me. "Tell me what you really want." He wraps his fingers loosely around my neck, and now I'm paralyzed. Why is this gesture such a turn on?

He quirks his eyebrows, still waiting for me to answer. I swallow past my dry throat and look him straight in the eye. Trying to appear more confident than I am under his intense gaze.

"I . . . I want you," I breathe out. He slowly inches his face lower, and I lift my head up, waiting for his lips to touch mine. But they don't. Instead, they go to my ear. His hot breath tickles my shell and goosebumps erupt all over my body.

"And I'm going to give you everything."