never napped. "Lead on."
With his arm and the towel wrapped around me, he pulled me to his bed. He lay down, and I went to his side and lay my head on his chest. It felt reassuringly warm and solid beneath me. I could feel his muscles flex as he pulled the covers around us.
It felt nice to fall asleep in his arms. Everything was warm and light, even though the room was dark. I felt safe and like my entire body was filled with happy light. I was like the star in Neil Gaiman’s Stardust .
I felt his breathing slow, and mine did, too. I could feel the soft, steady thumping of his heartbeat, and it lulled me to sleep.
Rainbow Trout
Amelia
I woke up in his bed. I could smell his scent all around me, like he was holding me. He wasn't in bed. I sat up. I hissed a little when I felt the cold air hit my naked body.
My nose twitched as I sniffed a little bit. He was cooking something.
I got out of bed, and I went to his closet. I put on one of his shirts, and I walked downstairs.
"What's cooking?"
"Oh, you're up. I didn't want to wake you up. You looked like an angel." He bent down to kiss me, like he couldn't get enough of my mouth. "Nothing fancy, but I thought you might some grilled rainbow trout."
"I normally don't like fish," I warned him.
"Believe me, this is something different. I swear, this is something that you're going to like. My friend has this aquaponics farm, and he grows basil. He cold-finishes the fish. He sells the fish at the farmer's market alongside pesto for an arm and a leg, but he gives it to me for free. It's really good. It's what I eat when I need a quick, hearty meal. I think someone made me work up an appetite."
"I'm not apologizing for it. In fact, I might make you work up an appetite soon. Very soon." I put a finger into the waistband of his pants.
He pulled my hand away and kissed it to take the sting of rejection away. "I'm starving, and you know, there is such a thing as recovery time."
I pouted, but he only laughed. "Can you get the plates for lunch? Set the table, too, please."
I set the table, and I put two plates near the stove for him so that they would be ready.
He took the grilled trout, and he put it on the plates for the two of us. I had to admit, the pesto on top did look pretty good. I loved pesto. I did the knife flick to get the fish onto my fork. I ate it.
"Oh my god, this is so good. What did you put in it?" I chewed and swallowed. “It doesn’t really taste like fish.”
He smiled, pride written all over his face. He did a little fist pump. "I'm glad that you like it. It's one of my favorite dishes. The secret is garlic butter."
"But there's already garlic in the pesto."
"Yeah. It's garlic overload. Very good for anybody who has a cold. Garlic is great for you if you're sick. I am still a little worried about the snow angels."
I rolled my eyes. "I'm fine. But it's nice to think that you want to take care of me."
"Anytime." He picked up my hand and kissed my palm. Our eyes met, and a pulse of heat sizzled between us in the second of silence. "I promise I'll take very good care of you later. Eat now, though. We both need our strength."
My stomach growled, and I pulled my hand back from him. I scarfed down the pesto-laden fish.
"You're cooking all the time. I am not a great cook, but I can make you crepes. They are easy. Do you have any red wine? Bordeaux would be best, but I'll take anything."
"I have a little Bordeaux, yeah. It might be out in the barn."
I stopped eating. "The barn? What, do you have a wine cellar out there?"
"Nah," he said, rubbing his head. "It's just cold out there, so it's okay. Alcohol doesn't freeze that easily. I'll go out after dinner and start defrosting it. I'll submerge a wine bottle the water in a little bit. That should be ready for dinner."
"Cool. I think you have everything else." I thought. I had seen milk, eggs, and flour in his refrigerator. "Do you have ham?"
He blinked. "Ham? In a crepe?"
"I don't think that I will make
With his arm and the towel wrapped around me, he pulled me to his bed. He lay down, and I went to his side and lay my head on his chest. It felt reassuringly warm and solid beneath me. I could feel his muscles flex as he pulled the covers around us.
It felt nice to fall asleep in his arms. Everything was warm and light, even though the room was dark. I felt safe and like my entire body was filled with happy light. I was like the star in Neil Gaiman’s Stardust .
I felt his breathing slow, and mine did, too. I could feel the soft, steady thumping of his heartbeat, and it lulled me to sleep.
Rainbow Trout
Amelia
I woke up in his bed. I could smell his scent all around me, like he was holding me. He wasn't in bed. I sat up. I hissed a little when I felt the cold air hit my naked body.
My nose twitched as I sniffed a little bit. He was cooking something.
I got out of bed, and I went to his closet. I put on one of his shirts, and I walked downstairs.
"What's cooking?"
"Oh, you're up. I didn't want to wake you up. You looked like an angel." He bent down to kiss me, like he couldn't get enough of my mouth. "Nothing fancy, but I thought you might some grilled rainbow trout."
"I normally don't like fish," I warned him.
"Believe me, this is something different. I swear, this is something that you're going to like. My friend has this aquaponics farm, and he grows basil. He cold-finishes the fish. He sells the fish at the farmer's market alongside pesto for an arm and a leg, but he gives it to me for free. It's really good. It's what I eat when I need a quick, hearty meal. I think someone made me work up an appetite."
"I'm not apologizing for it. In fact, I might make you work up an appetite soon. Very soon." I put a finger into the waistband of his pants.
He pulled my hand away and kissed it to take the sting of rejection away. "I'm starving, and you know, there is such a thing as recovery time."
I pouted, but he only laughed. "Can you get the plates for lunch? Set the table, too, please."
I set the table, and I put two plates near the stove for him so that they would be ready.
He took the grilled trout, and he put it on the plates for the two of us. I had to admit, the pesto on top did look pretty good. I loved pesto. I did the knife flick to get the fish onto my fork. I ate it.
"Oh my god, this is so good. What did you put in it?" I chewed and swallowed. “It doesn’t really taste like fish.”
He smiled, pride written all over his face. He did a little fist pump. "I'm glad that you like it. It's one of my favorite dishes. The secret is garlic butter."
"But there's already garlic in the pesto."
"Yeah. It's garlic overload. Very good for anybody who has a cold. Garlic is great for you if you're sick. I am still a little worried about the snow angels."
I rolled my eyes. "I'm fine. But it's nice to think that you want to take care of me."
"Anytime." He picked up my hand and kissed my palm. Our eyes met, and a pulse of heat sizzled between us in the second of silence. "I promise I'll take very good care of you later. Eat now, though. We both need our strength."
My stomach growled, and I pulled my hand back from him. I scarfed down the pesto-laden fish.
"You're cooking all the time. I am not a great cook, but I can make you crepes. They are easy. Do you have any red wine? Bordeaux would be best, but I'll take anything."
"I have a little Bordeaux, yeah. It might be out in the barn."
I stopped eating. "The barn? What, do you have a wine cellar out there?"
"Nah," he said, rubbing his head. "It's just cold out there, so it's okay. Alcohol doesn't freeze that easily. I'll go out after dinner and start defrosting it. I'll submerge a wine bottle the water in a little bit. That should be ready for dinner."
"Cool. I think you have everything else." I thought. I had seen milk, eggs, and flour in his refrigerator. "Do you have ham?"
He blinked. "Ham? In a crepe?"
"I don't think that I will make
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