Secrets of Mine

Chapter Ten - Freya

Freya's POV

Oz's biceps flex as he kneads the dough into the worktop. I was annoyed when River dropped me off at Oz's parent's place this morning and told me to take the day off but I'm coming round to the idea.

The sun's out, falling in rectangles through the window across the tiled floor. Oz is making cheesy garlic bread from scratch for our dinner later. A family dinner. Everything in this kitchen, from the childhood drawings still stuck to the refrigerator to the signs with pithy quotes on the walls, feels like a home. Oz's home.

I sit on the counter, soaking him in. The tendons on the back of his hands. The freckles dotting his arms. The sleeves of his white t-shirt that strain against his muscles every time he pushes the heel of his hand down into the dough. He's taken his glasses off to bake and a lock of his ginger hair falls over his forehead. He looks so different like this. So relaxed and at peace.

A flash of dark hair breaks my concentration as Jude strolls into the kitchen. He rests his elbows on the worktop and snags a cube of mozzarella from one of the bowls Oz has neatly laid out with all the ingredients. "Are you aware Freya is eye-fucking you, right now?" he asks.

"Jude." I drop my mouth and throw a cube of cheese at him. It bounces off his shoulder, but he just picks it up and pops it in his mouth.

Oz falters. He stops kneading and looks across at me. Sitting on the counter makes us pretty much eye-level and without his glasses on I get a little lost in the green of his eyes. "Are you?" he asks, his cheeks tinging pink.

I shrug shyly. "Maybe."

The corner of his lip curls up. "Spread your legs."

"Oz!" I scold.

He just raises a brow, the blush on his cheeks fading away as his dominant side comes out to play.

Jude throws a cheese cube into the air and catches it in his mouth.

"This is your fault," I tell him.

He grins at me.

I shake my head but then I check the room, making sure Oz's parents or Layla aren't about to appear before spreading my legs. It's unseasonably warm today and, as River had ordered me a day of rest, I decided to wear one of the few summer dresses I own. It's a thin white cotton number that comes to just above mid-thigh but when I spread my legs the hemline becomes downright indecent.

I blush as Oz's gaze drops to between my legs. The heat in his eyes confirms what I already know. I'm wet.

Oz's hand leaves the dough and disappears under my dress. He drags the back of his flour dusted knuckles over my panties, pressing the damp material into my core.

My hands spasm, trying to find purchase on the marble surface.

Oz draws back and brings his knuckles to his nose, inhaling like the scent of me is a shot of fine whisky.

I watch him, utterly captivated. Instinct has me wanting to press my thighs together but then Oz says, "stay like that" and goes back to kneading the bread.

He uses just one hand this time, his eyes set on my core. The muscles in his arm flex and tense with each roll of the dough and I decide kitchen porn could be the next big thing.

The ringing of a phone breaks the moment and Jude curses before taking the call. "Just FYI Riv, your timing is shit." He sighs down the line at whatever River says then heads to the door. "You two have fun," he calls back to us.