her and busy myself with finalizing our dinner.
“Derek?”
Opening the oven to check on the potatoes, I answer her. “Yeah, we’re good.” I lie.
“Are you sure? Because if you’re not, I should probably just leave.” She says as if my heart can’t break anymore, it does.
I reign in my feelings for the moment, because her leaving is not an option I’m willing to deal with right now.
Not ever.
I raise one finger and tell her, “Hold that thought. I need to take the kabobs off the barbeque.” I honestly just need to escape the room for a minute before blurting out something that I know would make her run.
I return, setting the covered kabobs on the counter. I move to stand in front of Chelsea and put on my relaxed cool face again and reassure her that I’m good with how things are between us. Even though I am anything but.
I grip my hands on her waist and lift her up, setting her sweet ass down on the counter. “All’s good, baby. I’m just glad you’re here.” The look on her face shows anything but relief and it makes me want to dive into her mind and find out what is going on in that pretty little head of hers.
I look down and take in her thighs displayed in front of me and I place a gentle squeeze on them before turning around to shut off the oven and remove the steamer from the heat on the stove.
“Derek, come here,” she whispers.
As if I am a puppy on a leash, I turn around and quickly make my way back to her. I don’t waste a single second as I settle myself back between her legs. Where I belong. My hands immediately go right for her thighs and this time they have a mind of their own. Slowly sliding up the outside of her soft legs, my thumbs catch the hem of her skirt, bringing it up as they make their way up to her silk panties.
Chelsea’s breath hitches as her head falls back, eyes closing. She fucking loves when I touch her. God damn, what this woman does to me. My mouth dives right in for her long beautiful neck. I run my tongue from the dip in her throat all the way up, taking my time as I go. I slide my lips along her jaw line and the moan she exudes is fucking turning me on. Even more than I was from the moment she stepped through the front door.
Chelsea leans back, resting the weight of her upper body on her arms behind her, making my mouth slide further south until I meet the point of the V of her yellow V-neck t-shirt. Chelsea wraps her legs around my waist, leans forward slightly and grips the back of my hair and roughly pulls until I have to look up into her eyes. She instantly places her lips over mine and moans into my mouth. “Don’t think you’re getting off this easy.”
“Trust me, baby. I got a lot more in me.” I growl.
She lets out a soft giggle. “The food. I’m talking about your cooking. You told me you can cook. I’m dying to find out if you’re telling me the truth or not.”
“Grrr,” I grumble. We both look down at the semi parked in my pants. “You’re gonna have to wait buddy, Chelsea’s hungry . . . for food.” I tell my lower half.
Chelsea laughs uncontrollably as I tickle her sides. I lift her up and throw her over my shoulder then smack her ass as I walk her through the double sliding glass doors that lead to the expansive deck that overlooks Torrey Pines State Reserve. “Sit woman,” I instruct as I set her on a chair at the patio dining set.
She looks up at me, batting her long lashes. “I think I kinda like this whole caveman thing.” She admits.
I turn around and give her a warning look and tell her, “If you keep it up, dessert will be coming before dinner., and I don’t mean the chocolate and strawberries, baby.”
Chelsea runs her thumb and forefinger over her sealed lips and acts like she’s throwing away the key.
I walk back to the kitchen to retrieve our plated food. I bring it out to set it on the table only to notice Chelsea leaning back in her chair, eyes closed, enjoying the last few minutes of the sun before
Peter Matthiessen, 1937- Hugo van Lawick