Page 26 of In the Grey of Dawn

Using the new toothbrush he found for me, I quickly scrub my teeth and attempt to get into bed but the damn sheets are tucked in so tight, by the time I’ve loosened all the bedding and am sinking under the softest sheets I've ever touched, he's leaning against the door frame to the bathroom watching me with a smug grin on his face.

He's wrapped a loose towel around his waist and it's the first real chance I get to soak him in. Tattoos cover his arms, shoulders and chest. There doesn't seem to be a pattern to them but there is a mixture of blacks and greys.

It's the lines of his muscles that get my attention. So strong and defined, his body oozes power and destruction, and if I’m not careful I know I'll get lost in him. It's a real struggle not to high five myself, knowing I had this adonis on his knees begging for a taste of me not long ago.

“Can I get you anything? You didn't eat dinner downstairs so you must be hungry?” he says, never once looking away from me as I snuggle into his bed.

“I could murder a grilled cheese. Is that doable or even just some toast? You don't have to go to any trouble but I am a little peckish.”

My stomach choosing that exact moment to let out a loud rumble.

Walking over to his chest of drawers he quickly throws on some dark jeans and a black henley. The large skull tattoo that covers his back on full display for me. I'm mesmerised by the way it moves, appearing to grin and smirk as he gets dressed. “I’ll go make you some grilled cheese in the kitchen downstairs. I don't really keep anything up here. You gonna be okay forabout ten minutes?” he says, turning to me, running his fingers through his still damp hair.

“Can you give me at least twenty minutes so I can get some proper snooping in. It's the courteous thing to do, don't you think?” I say, with a big grin on my face.

He gives me a small smirk and throws one of his jumpers at me, “Put this on when you're looking around so at least you're warm.”

I don't even have the urge to be nosy, mainly because I don't think there's anything for me to find here. Choosing to stay naked in Porter's bed, snuggled into his blankets, waiting for the kindest and most confusing man to make me food is high up on the top ten things I’ve never experienced.

This must be what all the women in Mila’s romance books feel like before everything turns to shit and the characters break up. Well not today universe, no third act break up happening in this story. I’m giving this a shot once and once only, and if every night I'm treated to amazing sex and grilled cheese, then it will take a lot for anyone to convince me to get off this ride I'm on.

A hand stroking the hair away from my forehead causes me to stir and it takes me a second to remember where I am. Carefully peeking one eye open, my suspicions are confirmed when Porter is sitting on the bed next to me.

“You fell asleep while I was downstairs. Do you want some food or to sleep some more?”

The man looks like he should be a model for some sexy cooking magazine. The soft light from the kitchen perfectly silhouettes his body and outlines the shape of his large arms and shoulders. One hand is holding a plate filled with a tower of grilled cheese and the other eases down my face to rest against my neck, his fingers pressing in firmly for a second.

Shutting his eyes for a moment he takes a deep breath and says, “Do you want to eat in bed, or should we make a proper meal of it in the kitchen?”

I've always seen these pockets of gentleness within Porter but I had no clue he could be so tender. He is this hard, hulking presence and it feels like I'm the only one who gets to see this side of him.

It does nothing to ease the feelings I'm developing either. What was a little obsession is turning into full onlike, like. I'm not alovegirl, at least I think I'm not. Whenever a partner said they loved me, it always felt wrong and I could never return the sentiment. The closest man I love outside of my dad and brothers is Dimi. I tell him I love him all the time but we both know that it's a familial or sibling type love.

That all encompassing love?

That type of love scares me but the more I see these little pockets of the true Porter, the more those thoughts creep in.

Could I really love Porter like that?

“I think you might pop a blood vessel if I said to eat in bed so the kitchen will be fine,” I say, grinning up at him.

I can't help but smile at his sigh of relief as he moves toward the kitchen and I leap out of bed, hurrying to put on the jumper he left out for me earlier. Looking up, he’s leaning on the bench watching me. A fire burning heavily in his eyes. I'm not shy of how I look. I've accepted what it is and I'm happy with the dimples on my ass, and the softness in my belly. My body is a temple and I honour her with wine and chocolate. Life’s too short to dwell on all those intrusive thoughts, so after I accepted my body for all of the amazing things I do have, the worry for the things I didn't like kind of slipped away.

Closing the short distance between us, I pull out the one bar stool he has and prop myself on the bench top in front of it.

“Feed me, Porter,” I moan, holding out my hands and wiggling my fingers, laughing.

“Shut your eyes,” he says, his voice a little lower than usual.

Closing my eyes, I can feel the warm graze of his jeans as he moves my legs apart to stand between them, the small vibration of the plate moving across the bench ripples beneath me as he drags it closer to us. Keeping my eyes closed I part my lips and wait. I can hear the toasted bread scrape across the pile as he picks one up, gently placing the tip just inside my mouth. It smells sweet and savoury, and I ease my tongue out to touch it.

“Bite,” he rumbles.

How does he have this ability to turn me on by saying one simple word? Opening my mouth wider I lean forward slightly and I'm immediately greeted by warm cream cheese mixed with a sharp cheddar. The subtle hint of sweet garlic comes through the more I chew. Opening my eyes to him I can see him looking for my reaction as he takes a bite of the same piece and weighs up the flavours.

“I thought we agreed on grilled cheese,” I say, tilting my head to the side, appraising him. “This is like a little chunk of heaven between two bits of bread.

“Now try this one,” he smirks, picking up another piece and bringing it to my mouth. Taking a bite I'm met with the sharp tang of goat's cheese and a crunch of walnut rounded out by a hint of honey. My mouth waters with how the flavours perfectly compliment each other. Any tension in my shoulders eases and I relax into the moment, the perfect salty sweet umami flavour rolling over my tongue.

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