Page 82 of Can't Kiss the Chef

My thrust quicken as my free hand starts playing with her nipples showing them equal attention, but never neglecting her clit.

“Oh, Byron,” she moans, reaching back to fist my hair.

“Yes, right there.”

I quicken my thrust as she tightens around my cock.

“God I forgot how good your cock feels.”

The high praise comes as she does.

I last only a second longer. I kiss the back of her head before sliding out.

Thank god there is an ensuite bathroom. I find a washcloth and run it under warm water before finding my way back to the bed and cleaning up the mess I made.

When I come back after throwing the washcloth in the shower I lie facing Lola. We sit in the comfortable silence.

I start playing with the long strands of hair at the top of her neck. I missed these moments.

Lola and I never had a problem with the sex part of our relationship. When we started, that’s all this was supposed to be.

These moments, the little ones after–the ones where you are comfortable lying naked with another in complete silence– those came later. And once they started happening more, that’s when I knew she trusted me.

“Just promise me you’ll never leave again,” she mumbles as her eyes drift closed.

“I’ll always be here for you.”

I tuck a loose strand of black hair behind her ear.

“I always was. You just have to trust me.”

She nods before drifting off.

I kiss her forehead before wrapping her in my arms. I’d replay the chaos that was the start of this trip a million times over if it leads me right back to this moment.

I didn’t think it would be a shock to any of our friends that Lola can’t sleep cuddled into my side. She told me when we first started hooking up that she would allow me to cuddle her untilwe fell asleep, but once she pulled away, I better not try and reel her back in.

The morning after Ivy and Jalen’s engagement party, I wake up to the view of Lola sprawled on her stomach, all the hair that would fit is tied back into a short nub hanging at the nape of her neck.

She looks peaceful, and after the day she had yesterday, I want her to rest all she needs.

I grab my phone off the nightstand closest to the side of the bed I slept in last night.

I have two notifications.

One I’m curious about and one I want nothing to do with.

Always go with the bad news first. Especially if there is a good chance the other news might be something you’ve been wanting to hear for a long time.

With that mindset I open the text from my mom.

Mom:

I didn’t want to call because I’m sure you are sleeping after a fun night with everyone. I’m sorry about what you walked in on yesterday. That’s not how we wanted you to find out. Please meet us for breakfast so we can talk.

My inhale is deep and controlled. Just the mention of my parents’ relationship makes me nauseous. Last I knew, it had been years since either my mom or I had seen my dad, but the fact that they have been dating for four months makes my head spin.

I prop myself up against the mahogany backboard trying to figure out if it’s worth going. Lola stirs and it draws my attention back to the sleeping beauty.

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