As I got to work on making the black cherry cake, he sat on one of the swivel chairs at my breakfast bar, commenting on every step of the process and stealing cherries to pop in his mouth.
Talking to him was so easy it felt surreal. We moved from the stupidest conversations to serious ones. One moment he was telling me about his love for slinkies and the next he was pouring his heart out about how difficult it was growing up without a dad around. When the topic of relationships came up, I barely knew how to talk about my past without comparing people to him.
“I just feel like I was always looking for the wrong things,” I said, pouring confectioner’s sugar into cream for the whipped layer of the cake. “I thought I knew what I wanted in a guy. Someone with similar taste in home decor. Someone who wouldn’t challenge me too much. Someone who would just accept that I’m shy at big parties. But It’s so obvious now that those things aren’t what I want at all.”
His gaze was sympathetic. “What did you want, then?”
I puffed out a laugh. “Well, I’ve realized that people with good taste in decor or food can just as easily be dicks. I don’t want someone who will challenge everything I do, but a little bit of good pushing? In the right direction? That’s perfect. And I don’t think I do want someone who just blanket accepts that I’m shy. I will always be on the shy side of things, but if I’m comfortable with someone… so much of it fades away.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Fades away, huh? So you don’t get shy when I tell you my cock is rock hard, and you’re the reason?”
Butterflies shot through me. “Okay. Maybe. A little.”
“Maybe a lot,” he said, teasing. “Maybe I like that I can still make you shy.”
“Only in the best ways, though.”
He reached across the breakfast bar, squeezing my arm. “It sounds like you are more okay with yourself now,” he told me. “And that’s why you know what you need in a relationship.”
“You’re right,” I said.
I paused for a beat, the air suddenly feeling full of a strange potential, an electric current. I wasn’t going to blurt out that I thought he was perfect for me. That would be ridiculous. But it was on the tip of my tongue.
“You know what I think the most special thing of all is, in a relationship?” Rock finally said. His eyes met mine, a smoldering look in them. “The thing I’ve always wanted, and never been able to find?”
I swallowed. “What’s that?”
I wanted to know so badly. I wanted to know what made him tick, and I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t want to do it for him.
“Being able to share a nice, steaming hot pineapple pizza with your beloved,” he said with a totally straight face. “That is all I’ve ever desired in a partner.”
I picked up the whisk in my hand and flung it at him, little bits of whipped cream landing on his still-shirtless chest.
“Hey!” he protested, laughing.
“Out. Out of my house,” I said.
“You monster.”
“You’re the monster, after what you just said.”
I was holding back laughter as he crossed around the breakfast bar into the kitchen, coming toward me.
“Lick this off of me.”
“I’m not licking anything off of you.”
He stood in front of me. Flecks of whipped cream were on the side of his neck, the center of his chest, and right above one of his nipples.
“Lick them off,” he said softly, smiling at me with his dimples.
“You are impossible,” I said.
I bent down, gently licking off the fleck on his neck first before going to the one on his chest. He hummed in satisfaction as I reached the one by his nipple, and I let my tongue wander, licking him there and feeling as it got hard.
I pulled away, smiling at him as I got back to work on the cake.
He let out a long sigh, shaking his head. “What am I going to do about you?” he said softly, watching me work.
“Hopefully fuck me again,” I said. Rock had made me bold.
“Definitely that,” he said, his eyes going a little wider just for a moment. “A lot.”
“What do you mean, though?”
He watched me close, staying quiet for a little bit, leaning against the kitchen counter. “You just… make me question everything, you know?”
“Yikes. That kind of sounds like a bad thing.”
“Not in the least,” he said. “It’s just something I’ve never felt before.”
“It’s okay to feel weird about doing things with a guy still,” I told him. “It’s definitely a big shift.”
“What? No,” he said. “I wasn’t talking about that. I don’t mind having a cock in my mouth, and I’m weirdly pretty okay with that shift already. Don’t mind having my cock in you, either. And honestly, I kind of want to try having your cock in me, so...”