65. Michael

MICHAEL

“ A ha!” Alice shouts in triumph from down the hall.

I finish drying the pot in my hands and set it down on the counter. “What’s going on back there?”

“One sec!” Her words are followed by muttering I can’t make out.

Attempting to be patient, I move my attention to opening the bottle of local Bear Cove wine I bought at the mart.

Patience is hard around Alice since I want to have my hands on her every damn second.

I know we’ve only been together a couple days, but I don’t think this feeling is ever going to fade. This need for nearness that I have.

But I’m trying to control myself.

For instance, I sat through our entire dinner without putting my dick in her.

Bravo for me.

I pour two glasses of the deep red liquid, then bring one to my nose.

Impressed by the smell, I’m taking a sip when Alice steps into the kitchen, clutching a fluffy white robe around her body.

“They’re made for skinny people.” She sticks a leg forward, causing the robe to part around her upper thigh, demonstrating that the opposing sides of the robe are barely touching. “But they’ll do.”

I take another sip of wine. “What are you wearing under there?”

Alice bites her lip, then she quickly pulls the robe open, then shut, showing me exactly what she’s wearing underneath the robe.

Which is nothing.

My blood heats, and I tip the wine glass back, swallowing the rest of it in two gulps.

Alice laughs. “What are you doing?”

“Fortifying my patience.”

She wraps an arm around herself, holding the robe in place, and reaches for the second glass on the counter. “Is it working?”

I shake my head and step toward her.

She takes a step back, aiming toward the sliding glass door that leads from the kitchen to the patio. “Your robe is on the bed.”

“Is that so?” I take another step.

She matches it with her retreat.

She takes another quick step toward the door. “Bring the bottle when you come out.”