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CHAPTER TWENTY
nate
“I really shouldn’t eat these donuts two days in a row,” Zoe said as she propped herself up in the bed.
After a record-breaking number of orgasms in one night, for both of us, we’d finally fallen asleep. All day, Zoe and I did exactly what we’d planned for this weekend. Sex. Some takeout. Wine for her, beer for me. More sex. A shower.
Waking up to her now was all I’d imagined it would be.
At least, she was just waking up. I was still on a strict regimen—couldn’t seem to break the habit—and had gotten dressed, fetched coffee and more donuts, undressed, and came back to bed, putting Zoe’s coffee on the nightstand beside her.
Doing exactly what I once texted her that I would, I had positioned myself between her legs. A barely awake Zoe was quick enough on the uptake and after another session of lovemaking, she’d gotten up, brushed her teeth, and was now explaining why she didn’t want to eat the donut in her hand.
“First of all, this sugar is going to be all over the bed.”
“Perfect,” I said, taking a bite of my own. “Every time you roll over and a piece of sugar sticks to your body, I can lick it off.”
“You said you don’t even like sugar.”
“I said I don’t eat it a lot. Everyone likes sugar.”
“Mr. Discipline.”
“A discipline I’m exercising right now by not flipping you onto your stomach and having my way with you.”
“You really don’t want me to be able to walk, do you?”
“Should I answer that truthfully?”
Zoe laughed. It was an even more beautiful sound in person than on the phone.
“I already know the answer. Silly me for having asked.”
“Silly you,” I said, finishing the donut and grabbing my coffee.
“Speaking of answering truthfully, though. . .”
“Uh oh. Sounds like a dangerous conversation is coming.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Just something I want to air out between us.”
“Air out. Hmm.”
Zoe put the other half of her donut on the nightstand, faced me, and crossed her legs with the coffee cup between them. Marveling at how cute she looked in the oversized tee she wore to the bathroom, I still wished she was naked. Though Zoe had a good point. Every time our bodies touched it seemed to be game over, and she wanted to talk.
“It’s just that, I thought about asking so many times. But never did. And now I just want to get it out of the way.”
“With that kind of buildup, I can’t wait to hear this.”
Zoe bit her bottom lip.
I groaned, and warned her, “Keep biting that thing, and this conversation is over.”
Laughing, she stopped. Took another sip of coffee.
“Incidentally,” I added, “for the record, this is my favorite look of yours. Why didn’t I ever get selfies like this?”
“With a big shirt, messy bun, and no makeup? Are you kidding?”
