This Winter

Chapter 16

Leila's POV

"Fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty! Sixty-one, sixty two," Devin groaned from the other room as he lifted his weights at 5am in the morning. Again. Every fibre in my body wanted to yell 'shut the hell up' but Devin had already given up four out of his seven days so I could sleep in so I was left with his annoying grunts and loud counting. "Seventy!" Rolling my eyes I slipped out of the bed and slugged to the bathroom to do my morning ritual. Once I was finished, I headed to the living room and leaned against the door frame and watched Devin lift his weights. God he was so fine. His muscles flexed sexily as he pulled the two weights up to his body and back down just to do it again. I couldn't help bitting my lips before he looked over and caught me checking him out. Grinning he dropped his weights before slipping off his headphones and walking over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He lowered his mouth down to mine, kissing me sweetly before pulling away.

"Morning."

"Morning to you too. You almost done?"

"Pretty much, why what's up?"

"I'm bored and you woke me up so your responsible to keep me entertained."

"Is that right?" He asked bitting his lip and I nodded. "Well I can think of a few ways to keep you entertained."

"Devin!"

"I wasn't even thinking dirty," he said putting his hands up in defence and I shot him a 'yeah right' look. "Alright so maybe I was but you started it."

"How?" I asked incredulously.

"You walk in here with boy shorts that barely cover your ass, a tank top with no bra and you expect a nigga not to think dirty? Your lucky I'm trying to be polite cause any other time and I'd have you on that couch, legs spread open and you screaming my name." My mouth dropped open at his confession and he licked his lips before bringing his mouth down to my ear. "You know I can do something with that mouth if you need it filled."

"Oh my gosh stop!" I said laughing hoping it would distract him from the blush on my face and how much closer my legs had gotten from this conversation. "Just feed me already. Oh my gosh not like that, I meant let's hurry up and get something in my mouth, oh my gosh not like that either," I rambled before Devin bursted into laughter. I smacked his arm and he laughed even harder before giving me a peck to stop my rambling.

"You are truly one of a kind, you know that?" He asked and I rolled my eyes.

"I've been told once or twice."

"Well you are, now come on and let me feed you something. How does pancakes sound?"

"Sounds perfect," I said with a smile as I followed him into the kitchen. I took a seat at the island and relaxed as I watched Devin in his natural environment speed around the kitchen. I couldn't help but stare as he made everything he did look as easy as making toast. He seemed to not notice my staring until he glanced in my direction and realized I had been watching him intensively.

"What?"

"Your such a natural in the kitchen, it's nice to see."

"Come here," he said biting his lip and I gulped knowing that meant trouble.

"I'm good here."

"Leila, come here," sighing, I walked over to where he was and giggled when he tickled my sides lightly before placing his lips at the crook of my neck. "You smell good."

"Is that why you called me over here?" I asked sarcastically and he smacked my ass causing me to gasp.

"No, but I did want to explain why I'm such a 'natural in the kitchen' as you put it."

"And you couldn't explain it to me from my seat?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"What wouldn't I believe?" I asked suddenly and he placed a kiss on my neck before running his hands down to my sides.

"To me; cooking is like having sex," he explained and i rolled my eyes.

"Oh really?"

"Yes really. Think about it. You have two types of niggas, ones that are bad and ones that are good. Just like in cooking."

"I don't see the relation of having sex and making food."

"Take pancakes for example; you have the type of nigga that'll just pour the batter on the frying pan, do a couple flips and then the food is done. Or you have a nigga like me who'll get the pan ready to the perfect amount of heat and have the insides soaked in butter before I even think of pouring in the batter," he explained, his hands resting just a few inches away from my drenched pussy and I wasn't sure which was turning me on more; his voice, his touch, or what he was saying but I was in a complete trance.

"Then what?"

"Well depending on the nigga, he'll either take his time pouring the batter or do it all at one time."

"And what type are you?"

"I like taking my time so I'mma pour that batter in nice and slow so I can hear every sizzle coming from the pan before I speed that shit up. I'm a special type of nigga so I'mma have my pancakes in all different positions, have it flipped as many ways as possible before I let it finish cooking and I'm the type of nigga who likes to taste his food, many, many times before making a couple more batches."

"Wow," I managed to whisper loud enough for him to hear as I gripped the counter to keep my balance.

"Breakfast is served," he said handing me my plate and placing a kiss behind my ear before walking out of the room leaving me breathless and confused. My body was tingling with excitement as if it had just experienced an orgasm and he barely touched me. Looking down at the food in my hand, I took a deep breath before trying them and like expected, they came out perfect. The water from the shower went off and I sighed in relief of not having to face him for at least ten minutes as I took a seat on the couch and enjoyed my food but I realized one thing that made me laugh; Emmanuel had always been a horrible cook.