Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

Penn

I couldn’t explain it, but it was like ever since the night before, when we’d gone on our date, when I let Mitchell touch me, when I asked him to suck my damn dick, it was like a switch had been flipped.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him. About his talent, about his smirk, about his sexy voice. About how he was always giving me the reins to control where we were going.

Because deep underneath all the vibrant shirts and sarcasm, Mitchell cared about my needs, my comfort.

After my conversation with Archie, I thought a lot about what he said. About things just feeling right.

About how I’d asked for Mitchell to bring me my release.

About how my fingers gripping his hair while he did so and how it was the purest ecstasy I’d ever felt.

And I guess you could say I was curious if I was capable of providing Mitchell with the same amount of pleasure he gave me.

I tossed my chicken in the pan, feeling Mitchell’s gaze on my backside, and the instinct to blush took over once more.

Even though I couldn’t see him, I could feel his appreciation, how he studied me.

Plus, I could hear the faint sound of a shutter clicking every few moments.

“You really didn’t have to do this, you know,” he said.

I gave the chicken another toss as the pasta continued to boil on the stove. I turned to look at him, sitting there at the counter and the nerves came rushing back .

Could I do this?

Was I absolutely, certifiably insane?

Most of my relationships, the serious ones anyway, didn’t last long. I was with Amy for all of eight months, and that was my longest relationship.

I’d made dinner for her a few times, but it was still awkward after.

Sex with Amy wasn’t bad , but it wasn’t anywhere near the amount of rapture I experienced with Mitchell.

I looked at him sitting there in my kitchen, and my heart skipped a beat.

“The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” I said, flashing him with a nervous grin.

I had this grand idea that we’d have dinner, then maybe we could make dessert, together, and then...

My cheeks flushed with heat as the thought I’d been keeping at bay all day crept into my brain.

I swallowed harshly, turning away from Mitchell to avoid giving away my embarrassment at my wayward thoughts.

“Well, you had me hook line and sinker with those cream puffs. And the cinnamon rolls. ”

I turned off the burner for the pasta, drained it and moved about my kitchen with precision.

“I mean, those were part of the agreement. This...”

I realized within seconds Mitchell was behind me. Setting his hand just above my ass.

He leaned in closer, his lips close to my ear. “Is not part of the agreement, I know,” he murmured, his breath hot on my neck.

I quickly added the pasta to the oversized skillet with the chicken and cream sauce, then I turned to look at him. His dark hair fell in his eyes seductively, and all the nerves that had been making my stomach flip all day dissipated.

I was without a doubt, in love with Mitchell DeVille.

The world around me fell away when he looked at me.

When he touched me.

When he kissed me.

“No, it wasn’t,” I breathed, my gaze dipping to his lips. I didn’t think twice about pressing my lips to his.

As far as I was concerned, I could kiss Mitchell forever and ever.

I could feel his grin at the corner of his mouth as he slipped his tongue between my parted lips.

My entire body eased from his touch and I let my hand rest on his hip for a brief moment.

A soft laugh erupted from my throat as I reluctantly pulled away from him, and fumbled for the knob to turn off the skillet.

Looking back at him over my shoulder as he pressed himself up behind me, I knew this was it for me.

I’d looked and looked for the right person, but I had been looking in the wrong places.

There was a reason my previous relationships hadn’t been successful.

Because they were one-sided, and they weren’t him.

I wasn’t sure how to define myself just yet, but I knew without a doubt I was one hundred percent gay for Mitchell.

Probably only Mitchell.

I broke away, my entire body warm as a grin spread over my face.

“You are so distracting, you know that?” I teased.

Mitchell hummed lowly, the sound dark and inviting and going straight to my cock.

Which did not help matters as the fantasy I’d been brushing off all day came back full force.

“I like distracting you. You get all flustered, and it’s fucking adorable,” he purred, his voice gruff and filled with a seductive tone.

I rolled my eyes as I gingerly pushed against his chest. “Sit down, please. I need to plate your dinner.”

Mitchell tugged my hips closer, putting me right against his rigid erection. “Penn...”

“Dinner first,” I said kissing him chastely. “Then dessert.”

Mitchell sighed, but relented, and I hated the feeling when he removed his palm from my waist.