“Your boxes?”
“I have some things that go everywhere with me. Not a lot, but some pictures, clothes, etc. They arrived the day after I did and were being held until I found a place.”
“How did you get it so quickly?”
He grinned. “Not my first time at the rodeo. I saw what I liked, signed, paid my deposit with the condition of immediate possession. It was empty, so it wasn’t an issue.”
“Decisive.”
He lifted my hand to his mouth. “When I want something, yes. Please, Mandy. I want to be with you today. I’m not ready to let you go yet.”
I glanced down. I was wearing his shirt from last night. My clothes were in a pile on the floor, no doubt wrinkled and unwearable.
He chuckled, knowing what I was thinking. “We can go to your place and you can change if you want. Then to my new place, have lunch, just spend some more time together. Please.”
I couldn’t resist his pleading gaze. His blue eyes danced in the sunlight, his hair all over the place from where I’d had my hands buried in it. His scruff was thicker this morning, the coppery hairs bright in the light. His smile was warm and kind, his voice rich and inviting.
“Okay.”
His smile widened. “Great.”
I shifted, trying not to grimace. Mitch noticed immediately, setting down his coffee.
“Are you sore? Did I hurt you?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.
I tilted my head, studying him. Despite his passion, his strength, or his desire, he had been nothing but gentle with me. Even when he lost himself with lust, I had felt the reverence in his caresses.
“No,” I assured him. “It’s, ah, just been a while, and we went at it, ah, pretty often.”
>
He grinned, his dimples popping. “That’s an understatement. A record for me, if I’m being honest.” He shook his head. “I’m insatiable when it comes to you.”
I felt my cheeks flush.
He leaned over the table, running his fingers over my face. “I don’t want you sore. How about soak in the tub and some Tylenol while I firm up the times with some delivery people?”
“No need to fuss. A hot shower will be fine.”
His eyes flashed. “Maybe I could wash your back?”
“Maybe.”
He handed me my plate with a wink. “Eat up, sweetheart. You’re going to need it.”
* * *
I walked around Mitch’s large apartment eyeing the rooms with admiration. I liked my place, but my entire apartment could fit into the bedroom here alone. I stood at the window, admiring the view, listening to the sound of Mitch’s voice as he spoke with the delivery people.
It was an amazing apartment. Spacious, clean, with a great view, and a kitchen that made me want to start cooking as soon as I saw it.
Mitch had stepped behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close.
“You like to cook, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Me, too,” he stated. “I find it relaxing, but it’s not fun to cook for one all the time.”