Page 23 of Just Is Not Enough

He grins, leaning down kissing me softly. “Duly noted. If that was bad, then I’m excited to hear the good.”

I hesitate, scared to death of being vulnerable with him, but I have to give him a chance. I have to givemyselfa chance to be happy.

“I’m done trying to push you away.”

He doesn’t respond right away but never breaks eye contact. I wait hoping to see something in his eyes to give me a clue what he is thinking.

When he finally speaks, I’m not prepared for his response. “It doesn’t matter if you were done or not, I didn’t plan on letting you go so easily,” Luke says with all seriousness, planting a firm kiss on my lips.

Once he’s done attacking my mouth, he jumps off the bed. Rummaging through a drawer he grabs a pair of black boxer briefs, sliding them up those muscular legs and covering his plump ass that is screaming for me to bite it. Mental note for later. He lays a gray pair on the bed for me and walks backwards towards the door. “Go take a shower while I make some food and find a movie for us to watch. I left some towels on the counter for you.”

I lie there a little longer, taking a few minutes for myself to ponder about everything that happened tonight. If someone would have told me this morning when I woke up that by this evening I’d be lying in Luke’s bed after he fucked me into oblivion, getting ready to shower and then watch a movie with him I would have referred them to a doctor for their delusions.

Movement on the bed startles me. The massive cat strolling its way up the bed is a sight to behold. It has a thick orangish coat and pointed ears with tufts off the tips. The fur on this cat must weigh a ton by itself. It makes its way up to my face, purring like a car muffler.

I reach out to pet it as it starts rubbing it’s face on my forehead. “Hey there cutie. Aren’t you the prettiest thing ever.” It plops itself on the bed leaning up against me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt fur this soft on an animal.

“Fred, come and eat!” I hear Luke call from the kitchen, followed by the ‘pspspsps’ sound we all summon cats with.

Fred jumps up and runs out of the room to find his meal. I chuckle at Luke naming his cat Fred knowing damn well he named him after the goofy character in one of our mutually favorite movies.

I don’t waste any more time and hurry to take a quick shower. Loving the way Luke’s body wash reminds me of him, I use a little more than necessary.

I dry myself off and throw on his boxers, feeling comforted that he offered without thinking twice.

Following the smell of bacon into the kitchen, I find Fred on a stool staring at Luke on the opposite side of the island where he turns to toss onions and peppers into a pan.

“Does he always watch you cook?” I ask him, walking over to Fred to give him some loving.

“Always. It’s not like he’s waiting for me to give him something. He doesn’t like any human food. I guess he finds it interesting.” Luke shrugs his shoulders and rounds the corner.

His hand wraps around the nape of my neck holding me still to pin his lips to mine. Fred is offended by our lack of attention to him as he headbutts my side then Luke’s a few times until we separate and comply with his demands.

“Don’t mind him. He’s not used to sharing me.” Luke says, returning to the stove to cook.

I file that statement away for a later discussion. “What exactly are you making?” I’m confused as I scan what is on the counter and stove.

“Breakfast tacos. Eggs, bacon, peppers, onions, green chiles, and cheese in tortillas. Is that okay? Anything you don’t like? Allergies?” Luke rambles off, pausing preparing anything else until I answer.

“No, it sounds great. I love breakfast for dinner. I’m still hungry since we barely ate at the restaurant.” I sit down next to Fred to give him some snuggles.

“That would be your fault, but I am not complaining.” Luke smiles over his shoulder.

I roll my eyes then let them wander around his apartment since I was escorted rather quickly to his bedroom when we got here. The main room is a big open concept. The kitchen, of course, the most eye-catching area. Only natural Luke would need plenty of space to cook more at home.

The living room is at the far side of the room, away from the door. A gray sectional couch in the middle of the room, surrounded by coffee and end tables, and an extremely large flat screen TV on the wall.

“You can go sit in there if you want. I’ll bring the food when it’s ready.” Luke motions towards the couch.

I walk over and plop on the couch, turning on the TV. I scroll through the apps until I find what I am looking for.

Fred joins me on the couch headbutting my hand. Luke follows suit a few minutes later with two plates in hand.

“These look delicious.”

We both stuff our faces, enjoying the tacos and laughing between bites at Patrick breaking down the meaning of ‘wumbo.’

This is nice, easy. Like we’ve known each other for years. By the time we finish eating and watching a couple episodes of SpongeBob and his friends’ escapades, I know it’s getting late. As much as I don’t want to go, I’m getting tired and have to get up early tomorrow.

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