Page 41 of The Price of Forever

Which made my swirling, desperate desire for Seven all the stranger.

He probably wouldn’t even know what to do with a pussy. He’s too pretty to need to learn how to satisfy a woman.

I heard the voice of Roxie in my head. Those had been her comments about Seven the night I ran into him at the bar. I explained him away as a former interest that just hadn’t worked out—Roxie sensed a need to console me, so she offered those wise words. And she was probably right.

I just wished any of these very logical rationalizations would reach my aching core.

I stuffed my vibe back into the bedside drawer and pushed myself out of bed. Time to start the day. And after my tormented post-orgasm thoughts, it seemed wise to start the apartment hunt. I grabbed my iPad and pulled up a basic search, limiting the results to a specific price range. A few dozen results popped up—I’d definitely need coffee to sort through these. Since Seven had given me his official report – six pages of findings, feedback and recommendations—I knew what to look for now to satisfy his safety stipulations.

I slipped out of my bedroom, scanning the common areas for Seven. No sign. I set my iPad down on the kitchen island then slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind me. My movements echoed in the cool, tiled bathroom as I completed my morning routine. Once I was feeling refreshed and ready for the day, I went back into the kitchen.

Seven stood in front of the open fridge peering at the contents. He wore a baggy tank top with exercise shorts, with bare feet and his big biceps on display. I tried to take it all in without feeling like one of those cartoon animals with the bulging eyes and the awooga noise in the background. Stripped down like this, without the perfect clothes and the hidden guns, his masculinity hit in a different way. He didn’t look at me as I took my seat at the island.

“You feel like bacon?” he asked.

“Good morning to you, too.”

He glanced back at me, then made a big display of looking at the clock on the wall. “It’s after noon.”

“By like, two minutes.” I pursed my lips at him. His hands were coated with a fine dust, which made no sense. Had he been boxing? Was that chalk for his hands or sawdust?

“What’s on your hands?”

He turned to the sink next, washing off the mystery dust. “Nothing.” We were facing each other across the island, which offered me a perfect view to watch him perform the most mundane tasks. He took some ingredients out of the fridge and laid them out on the island. I got lost in the measured movements of his hands as he unwrapped various blocks of cheese, brought out an onion, laid a knife next to the cutting board.

“You want coffee?” he finally asked.

“I’d take a cup.” I swallowed, looking at his thick knuckles. Did those hands know how to handle a pussy? They certainly knew how to handle a gun. He turned toward the back of the kitchen, prepping the coffee maker. My heart fluttered. He was making coffee for me. Somehow, this was sexier than the dream had been. This reeked of domesticity. Of stability. Of…partnership.

“You looking for apartments?”

His question startled me back to reality. I looked at my iPad, which still showed my search results for the lower Manhattan area. “Yeah, uh…I figured I better get a jump on it.”

“Anything good coming up?”

I cleared my throat, zooming in on the map of Manhattan. “There’s this really nice place in Chinatown here…it says it comes with zero security and a super who can be wooed by a strange man with flowers.”

Seven snorted, his knife clacking loudly against the cutting board as he diced the onion. “I vote no on that one.”

“Well, I’m still looking. Though I’m not sure anything I find will pass the Seven Pillars of Security that you outlined in your report.” Those were my words, not his.

“You’ll find out as soon as I review it.”

“My next place needs to be cat friendly too.” My gaze drifted back to him. His muscles flexed even while dicing onions. This seemed inappropriate somehow. Why was he so sexy in every task? I gnawed on the inside of my lip, trying not to let my thoughts sizzle on my sexy dream for that morning. Sure, I’d orgasmed less than a half hour ago, but my body needed more, specifically from Seven.

“Why do you have that angry look on your face?”

I frowned, directing my attention back to my iPad. “Just thinking about all those cuts I found on Ranger yesterday. He’s too far away from me and I don’t like it.”

A moment of silence settled over us, broken only by the sounds of his food preparation. I didn’t know what he was making, but I was curious. And growing hungrier. The coffeemaker dinged, and Seven turned to face it.

“You take one spoonful of raw sugar, right?”

The way his shirt hung off his meaty shoulders made something deep inside me coil like a loaded spring. “Yeah. I didn’t realize you’d noticed.”

“I’ve seen you make your coffee before.”

My mouth flopped open as I struggled to respond. I’d lived with people for years that never knew how I took a drink or what my food preferences were. Seven turned around with a coffee mug in his hand, and I straightened.

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