Page 17 of Verse Two
I joined him on the bed, and he set the tray over my lap. As I began fixing my coffee just how I liked it, I smiled.
“You’re spoiling me. This is really sweet, Brick.”
He waved me off before leaning over and kissing my cheek. “Ain’t shit sweet ’bout me, Doll.”
He stole a grape from my plate before lying back on his side of the bed and popping it in his mouth.
I glanced at him and frowned. “You’re not gonna eat?”
“I already did. It’s almost eleven.” My eyes widened.
“I never sleep this late. You should have woken me up.”
“For what? It’s still a damn snowstorm outside, and you wakin’ up earlier wouldn’t have changed that. Eat your food, Dy.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled and did exactly as I was told. We didn’t say much for a while. Brixton turned on the television and switched it to the sports channel while I alternated between eating and stealing glances at his fine ass.
When my tray was clear, Brick grabbed it and stood. On his way out of the bedroom, he said, “I’m not done spoilin’ you, either.”
I raised a brow but remained on the bed, waiting until he returned to ask what he meant by that. Only, . . . when he returned to the room, he had a plastic bag with the hotel’s logo in his hand, and he went straight to the bathroom. He closed the door, and seconds later, I heard water running.
Annoyed that he went to take a shower without telling me what his plans to spoil me consisted of, I grabbed the remote control and turned toDime Pieceswhile cursing him out under my breath.
After about fifteen minutes, he came out of the bathroom. I wanted to keep my eyes trained on the television, but I couldn’t resist the innate desire to admire him whenever he was near me. When I finally pulled my eyes away from the screen, he was standing beside the bed, smirking, with a hand extended toward me. He also had on the same T-shirt and sweatpants he had worn into the bathroom.
“Come on, Doll,” he said.
“Where?” Instead of answering, he reached down, scooped me into his arms,and carried me to the bathroom, all while ignoring my protests. Once we made it there, the scent of lavender hit me first, and when I looked at the bathtub, I realized why. At some point this morning, Brixton had gone to the boutique downstairs and purchased flowers, bubble bath,and candles. The freestanding tub was filled with bubbly water, and steam rose from it. I turned to him.
“You made me a bath?” The answer to my question was obvious, but the sight before me was so shocking. I had never taken him for the type to do things as sweet as this.
“Why you sound so surprised, Dy? You think I can’t take care of my woman?”
I whipped around to face him,and that arrogant smirk was on his face once again. I felt my cheeks heating at both his words and the confidence in his expression. I felt nervous, scared, and giddy all at once.
“I’m your woman now?” I asked, my voice low.
He closed the space between us and lifted his T-shirt—which was the only thing I was wearing—over my head. He tossed it toward the door and kissed my neck.
“You’ve been mine since third grade, Dylan Ivie,” he said, wrapping his strong hands around my waist. Backing me toward the tub, he added, “You just forgot.”
He kissed my chest, and I was speechless. Moving a hand from my waist, he grasped my hand and helped me into the tub. I let out a relief-filled sigh that came out as more of a moan. Now that I was up and moving around, I realized how sore my body was from what this man had done to me the night before. The hot water was perfect.
“You’re joining me,” I said once I was settled.
“I’on do baths, Doll.”
I pouted. “Please?”
We engaged in a very brief stare down before he sighed and began removing his clothes.
Once he slid in behind me, I rested my head against his chest and sighed. “Isn’t this crazy?”
He rubbed a hand across my flat stomach.
“What?” he asked.
“How quickly this thing with us just clicked. After all this time.”
