Page 80 of Catch You

“Same thing,” I say, dropping my lips to her neck and licking her sensitive skin.

“No, no,” she giggles, squirming against me and making the situation a whole lot worse. “Go.” She slams her palms down on my chest and attempts to push me away. She’s nowhere near strong enough to move me, but after a few seconds, I take pity on her and step back.

“Okay, okay.” I walk backward down the hall, keeping my eyes on her.

I reach behind me and pull my shirt over my head, dropping it to the floor before swiftly removing everything else.

Her eyes watch my every move, taking in the inked skin I reveal.

“Can I tempt you to join me?”

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

“Sorry, you’re on your own this time.” With a wink, she turns away and starts pulling things from one of the bags she carried in.

The temptation to walk back to her and demand she come with me is high, but after a few seconds of watching, I turn toward the bedroom and have a very quick, very cold shower.

“Holy shit, do I live here?”I ask when I walk back into my living area.

Harlow has set up the table. It’s covered in a cloth and has candles flickering in the center.

As I look around the rest of the room, I find candles on every surface.

She stands in the middle of everything she’s done, looking unsure of herself.

“D-do you like it?”

I focus on her as she nervously plays with one of the curls around her shoulders.

I open my mouth to tell her yes, but I find something else coming out. “This place hasn’t felt like a home since the day I picked up the keys. But suddenly, everything feels right.”

“Yeah?” she asks, a wide smile spreading across her lips.

“It’s incredible. Thank you.”

Closing the space between us, I slide my hand into her hair and lower my lips to hers.

She just opens up for me when the buzzer I didn’t know I had on the oven starts ringing and breaks our moment.

“I need to get our dinner,” she mutters against my lips when I refuse to let her go.

“We don’t need dinner. I can eat you instead.” Her cheeks brighten with my words. I fucking love making her blush.

“As tempting as that is, I’m starved.”

Releasing her, I watch as she effortlessly moves about in my kitchen.

“Here,” she says, sliding a bottle of beer my way, proving that she knows I’m watching her.

“Do you realise that you’re the first person to cook in this kitchen?”

“I’d hardly call reheating something I made earlier cooking.”

“It’s more than I’ve done.”

“How long have you been here exactly?”

“About two and a half months.”

---