Page 160 of Trust Me

Chapter 41

Dean

When I stood after putting the roast in the oven, I was aware of Oli watching me. I avoided looking at him, knowing he’d want to distract me if I gave him attention. Regardless, he came up and nudged my shoulder.

“You look like a proper chef,” he teased.

I huffed, but there was a smile sneaking through. “My mom asked me to cook tonight. Now, it feels like there’s pressure.”

“Would it help if you gave me a job?” Running his fingers up my chest, he gave me a mischievous look. “Tell me what to do.”

“You can . . .” I let out a breath when his lips pressed to the place behind my ear. “Cut the lettuce.”

“Yes, chef.”

A laugh escaped me. “But not yet. It’ll wilt.”

“Whatever you say, chef.”

With a groan, I grabbed his hips and turned so he was pressed against the counter. “You’re not funny.”

“No, I’m one hundred percent serious.” He dipped lower, then dragged his tongue up the column of my throat. “Mm. You must be the main course because you taste freaking delicious.”

“You’ll be the death of me, Oliver Bennett.”

“Let’s make it a murder suicide, then.”

“That was dark.”

With a grin, he glanced around to make sure no one was nearby before he grabbed my hand and tugged me down the hall. I tried to argue, but he covered my lips with his, halting any protest.

When a voice came from one of the rooms, he veered in the other direction. Closing us into the bathroom, he shoved me up against the wall, forcing the breath out of me. I didn’t have a chance to fill my lungs before he was on me, cupping either side of my neck while his tongue pushed into my mouth.

He popped the button on my jeans and forced them down my legs. I kicked them off along with my briefs, freeing my half-hard dick. Oli looked down at it with heat in his green eyes, giving him a feral edge.

After he’d pulled off my shirt, he dragged his fingers down my sides, tracing every curve of my body. Shifting to the side, I managed to escape him. He tried to follow, but I leapt into the shower and flipped it on.

“Want another taste-test, baby?” I taunted.

His eyes stayed locked on me while he stripped out of his clothes. I bit my lip, watching the way his abs flexed when he tugged his shirt over his head. Before it was all the way off, I reached out to yank him forward. He swore, nearly eating shit, but I caught him around the waist.

“I won’t get to the appetizer if I knock my skull against the faucet,” he grumbled.

“I’d never let you fall.”

His smile was tantalizing. “Thank you, chef.”

“If you keep saying that, I’m going to bend you over this damn tub.”

“Promise?”

Gripping his hair tightly, I tipped his head back so I could kiss him how I wanted to. With my other hand, I held him beneath the jaw just the way he liked. He moaned into my mouth, and I felt his dick harden against my thigh.

“Now we have to take care of that,” I said.

“Mmhmm. Get to it.”

Smiling against his lips, I released his hair and reached between us to grasp his shaft. His hips jerked, driving him into my hand.