Your One True Love (The Bennett Family 8)

I laugh at how indignant he sounds, almost offended. His hands are in the air, his jaw slack.

“Yeah, but see, I was half asleep when you climbed over me,” I explain, stifling yet another laugh because his expression becomes more incredulous by the second. “Now, I am in no way complaining about wake-up sex—best way to start a day if you ask me. But it can’t count as a full lovemaking session if half my sen

ses are still dormant.”

Daniel bursts out laughing, and hot damn, the sound is contagious. Seconds later, I join him and laugh until my belly hurts. Then he pulls me flush against him, tipping my chin up and kissing me. He tastes a little salty from the sweat on his upper lip, but the sheer masculinity rolling off him—holy hotness. His irises are dilated with lust when he pulls back.

“Let’s take a shower,” I suggest.

“Sure, you go first.” His eyes twinkle. The bastard. I’m hot for him, and this is how he treats me? Teasing me?

“It’d be more efficient if we showered at the same time. Water conservation and all that.”

He focuses his gaze on one of my cheeks and then the other. I’m pretty sure I’m flushing tomato red. His face breaks into a grin.

“That’s what we’re calling it? Water conservation?”

Before I have a chance to reply, he scoops me up in his arms, carrying me to the bathroom. I can’t help myself, and pepper his face and neck with kisses.

“I’m sweaty,” he remarks.

“You’re mine, sweaty or not, and I plan to take advantage of it every chance I get.”

***

I dress at top speed after hopping out of the shower and run off to prepare some toast while Daniel shaves.

“You can leave some of your stuff here,” Daniel’s voice resounds from the bathroom. “So you don’t have to carry that huge bag with you all the time.”

“Thanks,” I call out, smiling to myself. Warmth spreads through me as I smear the toast with a thick layer of butter, the way he likes it, then put ham and thinly sliced tomatoes over it. I also find olives in the fridge, slice two in half, and add them on top. Stepping back, I assess my work of art. This isn’t just a sandwich, it’s a sandwich with love.

“I’ll empty a shelf for you. Or do you need two? For all your lady stuff?”

I freeze. Will he put two and two together when he realizes I don’t have any lady stuff? Did he realize I haven’t gotten my period since we began dating?

He joins me in the kitchen by the time I finish his sandwich, looking harassed.

“Fuck, I’m gonna be late. No time to eat now, I’ll take the sandwich and coffee with me.” He points to the dark blue cup filled to the brim with coffee. “You can go out whenever you’re ready. The doorman will come and lock up.”

“Okay.”

“What’s wrong?”

Damn, how can he tell? Then again, my entire body is tense, which might have tipped him off.

“Nothing,” I say evasively, avoiding his gaze.

“Did you change your mind about Beatrix?”

“No, Dan, not at all.”

“Was the business with the shelf too much? Too soon?”

I shake my head.

“Something has you out of sorts, I can tell. And you weren’t ten minutes ago.” His voice is harder now. He won’t let it go. “You used to tell me everything.”

He’s right. I used to talk his ear off about everything. In fact, I often thought I was sharing more than he needed to know, but I wasn’t able to stop myself.