Page 11 of The Year of Us: July
My breath had caught in my lungs, but I managed to slide over to the inside of the booth to make room for Cory to sink down beside me. He set his hand on my thigh, and I managed to breathe again.
“You’re so hopeless,” Morgan said to me, feigning disgust before turning to Cory. “Reese said you were looking at apartments today. How’d it go?”
“Houses,” he corrected, giving my leg a squeeze. “And a couple condos. It went well. I found a house I liked. From the pictures I think it’s a little bigger than I need, but the location is nice. It’s close.”
Morgan smirked at me.
“Does it have a pool?” she asked.
“And a hot tub.”
“And a guest house?”
“Of course, Morgan,” he said.
She raised her glass at him in a toast before taking a sip off the top. “Perfect. When are you moving?”
“Morgan,” I forced out her name, sounding more like a choke than anything coherent. “Stop it.”
“She’s fine,” Cory assured me. “She’s looking out for you.”
“I don’t need a guest house,” I grumbled.
“No,” he said softly, turning toward me so his next words burned hot against my neck. “All you need is a good place to get on your back and a soft one to get on your knees.”
I groaned, swallowing hard.
“And what about you?” Morgan prompted. “What do you need?”
“I need both of those things, and I need him.”
From across the table, she made heart eyes at both of us, and I wanted to pour her drink all over her. I hated how easy it wasfor her to reduce my relationship with Cory down to bare bones, but there was a voice in the back of my head that let me know I should follow suit, stop overthinking. Maybe the watch sat like a collar because even though we hadn’t had the conversation yet, I did belong to him in that way. He was mine and I was his, romantically and physically, but why not all the rest?
I knew at least Cory was fine if we never addressed the elephant in the room. He was ready to up and relocate his entire life and my submission to him hadn’t extended beyond a few casual games in the bedroom. Yes, I liked to be on my knees for him, but I also liked when he used his mouth to warm my cock. I didn’t hate the way it felt when he spanked me, but I’d jerked off thinking about the time I spanked him more times than I could count. It was easy and complicated for both things to exist in the same parts of my heart, but just because Cory would be okay with me never having a formal conversation about that part of our relationship didn’t mean silence was what he deserved.
Cory deserved all the things he wanted in life, and I just had to decide if I was man enough to give them to him.
CHAPTER 9
Cory
“How doyou even know how to cook? Don’t you live out of airplanes and hotels?” Reese snarked as I stacked a bunch of ingredients on the counter. Our shopping trip was successful, and his cupboards and fridge were now well stocked.
I motioned to the sink. “Wash your hands, Reese. And I know how to cook because once upon a time I didn’t live on airplane food and room service.”
“If you’re cooking, why am I washing my hands?” Reese asked as he turned the tap on.
“Because I’m going to talk you through it.”
He dropped his head forward and let out a strange sound, like a helpless animal caught in a trap. Then he turned to face me, his eyes narrowed. “Why did that sound like foreplay?”
“Because it is.” I perched on the stool on the other side of the counter. The small apartment had a galley-style kitchen with a small island and room for two stools on the other side.
“Now that your hands are washed, chop the crown of broccoli into florets and then set that aside.”
“You know the place down the street sells beef and broccoli,” Reese said, but he did as he was told. Getting a knife and acutting board out, he got to work chopping the broccoli. “How did you learn to cook?”
“Trial and error, mostly. Cooking wasn’t something my parents did. I ate out a lot growing up. I learned in college. Can you cook?”