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“Your cake will be here in twenty minutes. Would you like to shower?” Oliver suggested, his voice warm against my ear.
“We probably should. I’m sticky,” I admitted, feeling a flush creep into my cheeks.
“You should be used to it by now.”
“I am, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to shower,” I retorted.
Oliver released me from his embrace, and I slipped out of bed to take a quick shower. He joined me as I washed my hair, his presence comforting me amidst the steam and warmth of the bathroom. We shared a few stolen kisses, but we both knew that if he stayed any longer, we wouldn’t be eating anytime soon.
"Oh God, this is the best," I exclaimed, savoring each decadent bite of cake as if it were a delicacy.
"It is good, but we should eat something more substantial for dinner," Oliver suggested.
"This is substantial. It has some of the food groups mixed in," I protested, gesturing with my fork towards the cake.
"No protein though," Oliver pointed out, his brow furrowing slightly.
"Eggs are protein," I countered, taking another forkful of cake.
Oliver leaned forward, swiping a bit of chocolate frosting from my lips and sucking it off his fingers, his gaze smoldering.
"Don’t do that," I chided, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks.
"Why? Am I turning you on?" Oliver teased.
"You know you are," I admitted, unable to suppress a small smile.
"Are you naked under that robe?" Oliver's voice was low, a hint of desire creeping into his tone.
"You saw me put it on in the bedroom," I replied, my pulse quickening at the suggestive undertone of his words.
"Perfect," Oliver murmured, his eyes darkening with desire.
He rose from the table and headed to the refrigerator, retrieving bread, cold cuts, and mustard.
"Perfect what?" I demanded.
"Just perfect. Less for me to take off you," Oliver replied cryptically, his gaze lingering on me suggestively.
"Who says we’re having sex again?" I joked.
"Don’t challenge me. You know I love challenges," Oliver retorted, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
I chuckled softly as I took another forkful of cake, savoring the rich flavors before deciding I had indulged enough. Setting the fork down, I carefully placed the remainder of the cake back in the box, a sense of satisfaction washing over me. I rose to put the box in the refrigerator.
"Can you get me a bottle of water?" Oliver requested.
"Sure. Sparkling or spring?" I asked.
"Spring is fine," he replied.
I returned to the table with his water after I washed my fork, taking a seat next to Oliver.
"Are you sure you don’t want a sandwich?"
I shook my head. "No. I think I ate too much cake," I confessed, as I settled back into my seat, content in the warmth of Oliver's presence.
He ran his hand over my arm causing goosebumps to pepper my skin. “I wanted to indulge you.”
