In bed, Ren still inside me, it was these occasions and only these occasions I always did what I was told.
So I did what I was told.
But the first part of his order, I gave it my all.
* * * * *
I was sitting on Ren’s kitchen counter, Ren leaning against the one kitty corner to me.
I’d swallowed the last ketchup covered tater tot and put my plate in the sink. I was sipping at my coffee when Ren pushed away from his place, dumped his plate in the sink and moved in front of me.
He took my cup from my hand and set it aside. Hands at my knees, he spread them. He moved in and wrapped one arm around my waist, curving his fingers under me to cup one hand to my ass, and hauled me a couple inches forward on the counter so my happy place slammed into his happy place and stayed nestled there perfectly.
He’d never done that before. Breakfast time was when I reestablished the boundaries I blew apart when we f**ked each other’s brains out and Ren had always given that to me. He didn’t hide that he found it amusing. But he still gave it to me.
This was tons better.
I curled my arms around him.
Totally better.
“You work tonight?” he asked.
I nodded. I’d called off the night Faye had her thing so I could take care of Faye’s thing. Last night was my night off. Tonight, alas, I was back at it.
“Date night, your next night off,” Ren declared.
Oh yeah.
I nodded. I also smiled. I did it small on the outside, huge on the inside.
“Tonight, you wanna eat before you go or when you get home?” he asked.
God, God, my man was sweet.
“Before,” I answered.
“Lasagna or chicken parmesan?”
Seriously? He had to ask?
I mean, his lasagna was the bomb, but he made his chicken parmesan from scratch and the first time I had it—and every time since—I’d had a culinary orgasm emanating from my mouth. And this orgasm was loud. Ren couldn’t have missed it. He didn’t miss anything.
“What do you think?” I asked back.
“Chicken,” he muttered, his lips quirking. They stopped quirking, he held my eyes and his voice was gentle and sweet when he queried, “She call?”
I pressed my lips together. Then I shook my head.
I’d checked my phone and Indy hadn’t called during our mind-blowing, soul-enriching, together together sex-a-thon last night.
This worried me.
So I did something about it while Ren was downstairs making breakfast and I was upstairs freaking that my best friend was mad at me.
“I called her,” I shared. “Left a message for her to meet me this morning and chat.”
“Right, honey,” he replied. He gave me a squeeze and dipped in for a brush on the lips before he went on, “Don’t worry about it. She’ll hear you out. It’s sweet you care, but she does too, so you two will get past it.” I got another brush of the lips before he muttered, “Now, I gotta get to work.”