Mikhail

23

“You should've woke me!”

I turned my attention from the lettuce I was chopping and glanced at the doorway where Montse stood, hands on her hips.

She was wearing the nightwear from last night. The nightwear I'd slowly peeled off her body. A body I'd explored inch by delectable inch.

I smirked. “Just say you're thankful that breakfast is almost ready.”

“I am not!” She protested,strolling into the kitchen while I returned my attention to the salad I was making.

She stood beside me and attempted to grab the plate into which I was chopping the vegetables. I pushed it out of her reach and glared at her. “Just let me do this.”

“Why didn't you wake me?”

“I don't know.” I shrugged. “Maybe because you looked like you were going to need quite some energy for today.”

“Why would...” She started to ask, then paused. Her cheeks flamed red. “You...”

I chuckled and continued to work on the sandwich. Montse walked over to sit on a stool. I stole sidelong glances at her every once in a while and caught her staring at my ass every time.

“Like what you see?” I asked teasingly.

“Huh?”

“My ass.”

“I wasn't staring at your ass!”

“Yeah sure." I laughed.

Finally done with the sandwiches, I deposited them onto ceramic plates and turned to face her. She looked away quickly.

Yep, she'd definitely been staring at my ass.

Unable to resist a smile, I walked over to her and placed one of the plates in front of her. Holding her chin, I tilted her face towards me and kissed her softly.

The kiss was slow, our lips melding so perfectly. I was so tempted to deepen the kiss but I knew how fast that could make me forget about the food. I nibbled on her lips lightly, ending the kiss.

“How are you feeling this morning?" I asked.

Montse looked into my eyes briefly and blushed. “Good.”

“Just good?”

She ducked. “Fine. I feel wonderful. I feel like the whole world has been given to me on a platter.”

We laughed. Dammit, we practically felt the same way. I was feeling like I had some power over the world and that was why I could call this special woman mine.

I didn't take my eyes off her as we ate. Partly because she was so damn enticing and partly because I loved how she looked when she blushed. And she did that a lot.

Every once in a while she would look up and meet my eyes, then quickly look away, her cheeks turning red.

All of a sudden, she held my gaze with a defiance that all but said: two can play the game.

We had a staring contest while we ate. When it proved none of us was willing to give up, we burst out laughing simultaneously. Montserrat's laughter was captivating even though she nearly bowled over with it.