Page 48 of Spoiling Lillian
I wince. “Uh, yeah, about that…”
He lifts his brows, grinning.
“Just so you know, I don’t cook. I’ve never cooked. My mother thought it was beneath us.” I roll my eyes. “Maybe I could take some cooking classes?”
He chuckles. “Lils, if you want to learn to cook and you have an interest in attending classes, that’s fine. I’ll arrange it. But don’t do anything because you think you need to in order to please me. Maybe we can learn to navigate the kitchen together. I kind of like the idea of us working side by side, making dinner.”
“That sounds fun. I don’t think Camden lets Simone cook. Jameson doesn’t let Natasha either. It’s because they spend most of their time in Little space and something about Littles not touching a hot stove.”
Bryson kisses me again. He keeps my brain slightly scrambled. “If we determine you need that level of nurturing, we’ll make it work.”
“I don’t think I’m quite that Little, nor do I think I need to be coddled that much. It’s fun to play at a younger age for an hour or two. And maybe it’s fun to feel light and free to skip and giggle and be silly most of the time, but I don’t think rules that apply to a toddler are my style.”
Another kiss. Then another. “We’ll figure it out,” he mumbles against my lips. “I’m going to go reheat our delicious dinner. How about you put more clothes on so I can eat without a hard-on, yeah?”
I giggle and shake my head. “I like it when you can’t take your eyes off me and you get all growly. I figure if I tempt you with my nudity, eventually you’ll give in and have sex with me.”
He drops his forehead onto the mattress next to my ear and graces me with another of his growls. “You naughty girl.”
“You keep saying that. I call it resourceful.”
Grinning like a loon, I watch as he leaves the bedroom. As soon as he’s gone, I use the bathroom and adjust my sexy nightie back into place. There’s no way I’m going to put on more clothes. Tempting him is my new middle name.
I’m still smiling when I pad into the kitchen. I expect to find Bryson at the table with our reheated mac and cheese. Instead, he’s standing next to the island, casually leaning one hip against it. He’s holding up his phone, staring at me. The expression on his face can only be described as devious. A strange knowing smirk. The lines at the corners of his eyes are crinkled.
Holding my gaze, he taps his phone.
I inch closer, confused, and then freeze when I hear my phone ringing. Jerking my gaze to the counter, I quickly locate it, but it’s too late. It’s already playing our song. King of my Heart blares through the room.
My face heats as I run toward the counter to make it stop. Maybe he doesn’t know this song. Maybe he won’t recognize it or listen to the lyrics.
But Bryson grabs me around the waist before I can get to the cell. He lifts me up high and sets his lips on my ear. “Interesting ringtone, Baby,” he whispers.
The song is still playing. My heart is racing. I’m so embarrassed. When it stops, I go limp in his embrace. “How did you know?” I murmur.
“Camden told me I should give you a call.” He chuckles against my neck.
“Ugh.” Of course he did. Traitor.
“How long have I had my own ringtone in your phone, sweet girl?”
“It’s just a random song.”
“Fibber. Tsk. Tsk.”
“Bryson…” I squirm, mortification growing.
“How long, Lils?”
Giving up, I sigh and turn my face to look at him. “Since the day we met,” I admit.
“I’ve been the king of your heart that long?” He kisses my neck.
“Yeah…”
“Sweetest thing ever,” he tells me, trailing more kisses up to my ear.
I moan when he nibbles on my earlobe. So what if he found out my silly ringtone? I’m half in love with him. It’s not really a secret. Why should I care that it goes back to the day we met?
