"I didn't realize I was making it for you," he admitted. This time, it was his turn to be embarrassed. Over the last weeks, he found himself doing things he normally wouldn't. Considering the things she might like, savoring things he might have normally taken for granted. He'd bought new, softer sheets for his bed, he'd tucked a box of tea into his cupboard.
"I have a funny way of doing everything," he pointed out, kissing the hollow of her throat. "And so do you."
He kissed the underside of her chin, the curve of her throat, then lower, the flat of her breastbone, the valley between her breasts. Then, he lowered himself to his knees there in his kitchen, his cheek pressed against the flat of her belly, her skin slick from her shower and covered with goosebumps.
With a huff of laughter, he lifted his head to look at her, his chin resting against her belly. "It's harder to ask you to be with me, when it's not under the guise of corrupting you."
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"I have a funny way of doing everything," he pointed out, kissing the hollow of her throat. "And so do you."
He kissed the underside of her chin, the curve of her throat, then lower, the flat of her breastbone, the valley between her breasts. Then, he lowered himself to his knees there in his kitchen, his cheek pressed against the flat of her belly, her skin slick from her shower and covered with goosebumps.
With a huff of laughter, he lifted his head to look at her, his chin resting against her belly. "It's harder to ask you to be with me, when it's not under the guise of corrupting you."