The Aristocrat

Over the next several minutes, I heard lots of clanking in the kitchen. I hoped Leo wasn’t in some kind of distress. Finally, he appeared at the entrance to the living room.

“Okay, so it turns out, Sigmund pretty much cooked everything decent we had in the refrigerator tonight. I tried to make you an omelet, but I messed with it too much, and now it looks like soggy brains.”

I cackled. He’s adorable. I probably needed to rescue him, even if this was super entertaining. “Do you need help?”

“No. I have a Plan B. I’m going to present it to you, but you need to promise not to laugh.”

“I promise.” I paused. “Not to laugh…too much.”

He wriggled his brows. “I’ll be right back.”

A few minutes later, he returned carrying a single plate.

My mouth dropped when I looked closer and realized what was on it: SpaghettiOs. The funniest part was the garnish of basil in the corner to make it look fancy.

“Turns out, all I know how to do is open a can and heat the contents.”

“But look how nicely you plated everything.”

“I was hoping the garnish would distract from the otherwise pathetic offering. Does it count as cooking if it comes out of a can?”

“You know what? I’m going to eat this. And I’m gonna enjoy it. You know why?”

“Why?” He grinned.

“Because you made it, even if that only entailed opening the can and heating it up. You said you’d never made anything for anyone. I’m honored to be the first.” I hadn’t had SpaghettiOs since I was a kid. I took a bite, surprised to find that they tasted better than I remembered. “This is surprisingly good…tangy.”

“Yeah?”

“Or maybe I’m just so hungry that anything tastes good.”

“Probably the latter. But I’ll take it as a win.”

Holding the fork up to his mouth, I said, “Taste.”

Leo took a bite and spoke with his mouth full. “It’s not terrible.”

I ended up feeding him random bites of SpaghettiOs as we talked and laughed.

This night, this “dinner,” even if a bit ridiculous, was everything to me. There are some moments you just know you’ll never forget, and this SpaghettiOs supper was one of them.

After I finished eating, Leo took my plate into the kitchen.

He returned to his seat on the couch next to me. My eyes fell to his mouth. Licking some remaining wine off my lips, I hoped so badly that he’d kiss me.

It seemed he’d picked up on my signal, because within seconds he leaned in, breathing erratically before taking my mouth with his. I gasped, perhaps a little too loudly, because he laughed against my lips. As he leaned over me on the sofa, pressing his chest into mine, Leo kissed me as if his life depended on it, as if he were making up for all the time this week when he’d held back.

Threading my fingers through his hair, I relaxed into the kiss, forcing away the voice inside my head that was ready to remind me I was setting myself up for a broken heart. I kissed him harder, moaning against his mouth and savoring his taste. He groaned as he took my bottom lip between his teeth and pulled ever so gently before deepening the kiss once again. From the commanding way he kissed, it was easy to imagine what he might be like in bed. I suspected he knew exactly how to please a woman.

As the kiss escalated, somehow I ended up under him. Rather than resist the change, I opened my legs, allowing him to position himself between them. Through his jeans, I felt the heat of his erection as he grinded himself against my throbbing clit. Leo lowered his mouth, kissing down the length of my neck. Then he suddenly stopped, resting his mouth against my skin and breathing against me for several seconds.

He looked up at me in a daze before pulling away. “I…think I should stop.”

“Why?”

“Because it started to feel like you weren’t going to stop me if I went further.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have,” I said honestly. My body yearned for his return as a coldness swept over me.

“Felicity…” he whispered.

“What?”

“I was seconds from being inside of you. At least that’s where I wanted to be. But I know that’s not what you want right now, even if you were getting carried away.” He leaned his head on the back of the couch and turned to me. “I lose all sense of judgment when I’m kissing you, smelling you, touching you. I am by no means new to this…but this level of need is new to me. I’ve never been so drawn to someone I also need to be careful with. I’ve never cared this much before.”

He raked his hands through his hair. “You asked me earlier what I ache for. And I wasn’t completely specific. I said ‘more time’, and of course that’s true. But I ache for so much more when it comes to you. I ache for everyday, mundane things that I’ve never yearned for—like date night, going out to dinner, and coming home to curl up on the couch together. I’ve never longed for that with anyone. Ever. Couldn’t have cared less about such things before. But I also ache to lie with you at night…to worship your body, to trace my tongue over every single one of your freckles, to take my time with you and give you the best fucking orgasm you’ve ever dreamed of. And if you don’t think you’ll ever be ready for that with me, I need to be careful not to push things. But I can’t lie to you. I want that. I want all of that with you, Felicity. So badly.”