Page 129 of I Choose You

“Do you have specifications? Like the egg whites?”

“Yes and no. I try to watch what I eat but I know better than to be too rigid. It’s too easy to fall off the wagon when I limit my choices too much.”

That didn’t sound too restrictive.

“I’m allergic to onions,” she admitted.

“You are?”

“No. I just hate them. So I order with the note that I’m allergic so there is a better chance of them following my request.”

I chuckled.

“And I’m in the mood for meat.”

I glanced at her and thrust my hips up. “Road head?”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Oh, quiet. I need to give my vagina a break.”

“I said road head. For me. To satisfy your craving for meat.”

She shifted in her seat. “Fine. But when I get my mouth on you, I get too turned on.”

“Fuck.” I shook my head, trying to focus on driving. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“I hope not. Other than la petite mortems. Many of them.” She sat up. “Here, this one sounds good. I found a place that sounded good, but then it had tons of bad reviews. I switched to looking for a good place to order from and that’s time consuming.”

“Whatever you want,” I said, and I meant it.

Once we finally grabbed the food, we suffered through the remainder of the drive with the potent aromas of garlic and cheese in the SUV.

I parked in the garage and left her boxes in the back. She carried the food in and I followed her inside like a famished beast. I was—for the food and her. Her comments about road head might have been shared flippantly, but it stayed on my mind. Sex, I realized, would always be damn near at the forefront of my mind where she was concerned.

My concerns about her having an eating disorder on top of dysmorphia faded once we set up in my kitchen. She ate pieces of everything we ordered, moaning those sexy sounds every so often, I swore she did it just to drive me crazy.

When she pointed at my face, indicating I had sauce on my face, I leaned in for her to wipe it off. It would have been sexy if she traced her finger over it and licked it off her fingertip. But the way she crawled over to me and licked it straight off the corner of my lips then kissed me hard was even better.

I held her in place, growling when she retreated. “I thought you said your vagina needed a break.”

She giggled. “Not that long of a break. I had to suffer enough of a drought since I told you about my stupid revenge plans.”

I tilted my head in the direction of my hot tub. “I’m sure a good soak will help.”

“I always end up soaked when you’re near.” Her flirty smile fell. “But I don’t have a suit.”

I arched my brows. “Don’t think you need one.”

She shook her head. “It’s an outdoor one, isn’t it?”

I understood that someone possibly seeing her body was a nightmare for her. We’ll work on it, baby. I tipped my chin at her. “You got a bra.”

“But my panties are in tatters in your pocket.”

I shrugged. “I’ll find you something.”

The only thing I had was shrunken boxers. They hung from her small frame. The bright orange basketball print of my boxers and the white fabric of her bra didn’t match at all, but she’d look sexy no matter what.

I held her hand as we headed out to the hot tub, and I noticed she covered her stomach with her hand.