Dishing Up Love

“I feel much better now,” I murmur, feeling bashful. “Sorry, guys.”

“I didn’t realize you were that worried about seeing me again, sugar,” Curtis says, and when I look up at him, he uses the knuckle of his pointer finger to trace my jawline gently. My eyes flutter closed at the sweetness of the touch, and then I meet his gaze.

“I think it had more to do with the breakfast you insisted on me eating before the flight. And then we hit a spot of turbulence about halfway here that made me pee a little,” I inform him.

He chuckles. “So what you’re saying is you need a shower that includes a toothbrush. Got it. Let’s grab your bag and get you home.”

And that’s exactly what we do. He drives me straight to his house, which is a gorgeous two-story expanse that embodies everything I imagine Curtis to be. All the walls are bright white with a mix of masculine and modern furniture and splashes of color in the artwork on the walls. We don’t take the time to go see his kitchen, because I want to wash off that plane smell and the gum he gave me in the car isn’t doing anything to make my mouth taste better. I don’t think anything will until I’m able to scrub it with my charcoal toothpaste and gargle the hell out of an entire bottle of mouthwash.

At first, it seems like he wants to give me privacy, unsure if I want to take a shower alone, but when I leave the door open to his en suite and give him a playful wink as I pull my shirt over my head, that’s all the invitation he needs and he closes us into his bathroom.

“You sure you’re feeling okay, sugar?” he asks as I reach behind me and unhook my bra, letting it fall to the floor.

I give him a smile, looking up into his turquoise eyes as I watch his nostrils flare when he takes in my breasts. “I’m feeling much better, thank you,” I reply, stepping out of my sparkly moccasins and pulling off my leggings.

When he glances down then, I can’t help but giggle at the look of relief on his face when he sees I’m wearing a pretty thong instead of a pair of surgery panties I might’ve rescued out of the trashcan.

I take his T-shirt over his head, him helping to get it all the way off, since he’s so tall and I can’t reach. And then I unbutton his jeans and unzip the fly, hooking my fingers into his boxer briefs and pulling it all down at once, where he steps out of them apparently having already taken his shoes off before we came into the bathroom.

When he leans down to kiss me, I smack my open palm over my mouth, shaking my head. As he rears back, giving me a questioning look, I tell him, “There is no way in hell you’re kissing me until I brush all the nastiness out of my mouth.”

He nods begrudgingly, and so I hook my thumbs into my thong and pull them down my legs, spinning around and tossing them at him over my shoulder as I step into the shower that’s big enough for ten people. I had every intention of turning the water on and getting it all set for us, but I can’t quite figure out how. I look around for a knob, a faucet of some sort, but there’s not one to be found.

Instead, I hear him chuckling still outside the shower door, and I glance through the glass to see him lift his hand to press buttons on a touchscreen. I have just enough time to glance up at where he points at a place above me with a wink before the water cascades down from the ceiling, as the biggest showerhead I’ve ever seen turns on. It has to be a good two feet wide by three feet long, taking up most of the ceiling space inside the stall, and the water comes out as if it’s a rain shower. There’s just enough space around the perimeter for you to stand in order to be able to lather up, and it has to be the most relaxing shower I’ve ever been in, in my life.

“Oh my God, I could seriously live in this thing,” I tell him as he finally steps in after watching me, seeming mesmerized, while I enjoyed the soothing hotness of the water.

“You could if you wanted to, sugar,” he replies. “Just say the word and I’ll move your sexy little ass out here at the drop of a hat.”

My breath doesn’t even catch when he says things like this anymore, because he’s so often said them over the past month. It no longer shocks me when he talks about the future as if he already knows it’s going to happen.