at until they get their perfect moment. Then I realize the most surprising thing of all.
I trust Desmond Blake.
TAKE VI
THE COHOST
“Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.” —Theodor Seuss Geisel
32
Moving Fast
Desmond
I get to the kitchen earlier than normal on Monday morning, and I realize immediately how strange it feels to be off my routine. Between all-day preparations for Saturday’s wedding and the time Maggie and I spent locked away in my condo all of Sunday, I knew I would have to start early to tackle the mess I left behind.
I spend the morning changing out the garbage liners, deep cleaning the main kitchen area, and running the dishwasher—all to a Matt Nathanson playlist and with the clearest head I’ve had in a long time. And I know I owe it all to a certain vixen with a devilish tongue and wicked hip thrusts. But it’s more than that with Maggie. She gave more than just her body to me this weekend. She gave me her trust when she let me snap those pictures, and I’ve never felt prouder of my own art.
Suddenly, I’m inspired to make something more of my art. To take more than live action photos of food to showcase my culinary passion. I love watching Maggie’s joy when she tastes my meals. She’s like a princess that’s been held captive her entire life and has never tasted a single delicious morsel of food in her life. And that’s what I want to capture. The innocence of discovery. The first taste of all that’s been forbidden.
I’m straightening up the couch cushions in the common area when I hear the door from the back room opening. I look up to see Maggie wearing black skinny jeans and a cream crop sweater with three buttons down the center. Her hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, and not a stitch of makeup can be found on her face. Her look reminds me of the day she was moving in, only on that day, she was a bundle of negative energy. Today, she’s a fucking ray of sunshine that I instantly start to move toward.
I scoop her up in my arms with a grin and press my lips to hers like she didn’t just climb out of my bed two hours ago. She giggles into my mouth, and I carry her over to the couch before tossing her onto it and pouncing on her. I bury my mouth in her neck, knowing now the effect my beard has on her sensitive skin. I don’t even have to look to know that goose bumps just broke out all over her body.
She squeals with laughter. “Stop.”
I pull my mouth away and stare down at her. “Sorry, I got a little carried away.”
She grins and runs a finger over my matching smile. “I don’t mind, but I am on the clock, and I kind of like my job.”
I search her caramel eyes and then lean in to kiss her again, this time square on the mouth and with as much passion as I can muster. “It’s a good thing, because your boss is a big fan of your work.”
She laughs. “Oh, is that right?”
I nod, my gaze now perusing her little sweater, which clearly outlines her breasts. “That’s right” I slip my hand up her stomach, over her rib cage, and under her sweater. “He especially likes this outfit. Very appropriate for the workplace.” Sweeping a thumb over her nipple, I confirm that she’s braless once again and groan. “This is going to make for a very unproductive day.”
Maggie places a hand on mine and pulls it out of her shirt with a smile. “I won’t let that happen. Should we look at recipes or head to the market?”
“You already pulled the recipes on Saturday and made the grocery lists.” Grinning, I pull myself to the side of her so I’m not crushing her with my weight. “And the market opens at nine.”
She glances at the clock and frowns. “We have an hour.”
My fingers move back to her sweater, to a button between her breasts, and I pop it open. “Looks like we’re ahead of schedule, so…”
Maggie turns back to me, and something in her sweet smile effectively melts my insides. I’m putty over this girl, and I don’t know what to do about it. My next kiss is tentative and slow. Just because I’m a horny bastard with a permanent hard-on for Maggie doesn’t