Showered and dressed in Blake’s Manchester United football jersey, I piled my hair up and went straight to the kitchen. Upon entering, I stood frozen and watched as Blake placed an omelet and some bacon on each plate. His hair was still wet from the shower and he was bare-chested, wearing only his well-worn jeans while also barefoot. His defined torso and six-pack made a rippling effect as he moved about. My mouth watered. What is it with men in jeans and bare feet? The combination’s simply irresistible! Was he trying to drive me insane? He looks so deliciously yummy!

Feeling my presence, he turned around. With a sexy grin, he sauntered to where I was standing, kissed my forehead and guided me to sit at the breakfast bar.

“Coffee?” the hot chef asked. I nodded, unable to speak, still mesmerized by the charming, barefoot-jean-clad god. He went over to the coffeepot. My eyes gawked as his impressive back muscles flexed when he moved. I restrained from licking that nicely sculpted back and that nicely dipped curve along his spine. Yum!

This man is too sexy; it’s criminal.

I could stare at him all day without becoming bored. It was like eye porn and he was a delectable subject. At the same time, though, I wanted to throttle him. There he was, acting like a good host, as if he hadn’t left me hanging and yearning in the bedroom.

Coffee poured, he fixed it to my liking and placed the steaming cup in front of me with a sexy smirk. Blake’s eyes twinkled. He was enjoying this. His eyes were dancing with amusement. Asshat!

“Blake, can you please put a shirt on?” I demanded petulantly. I didn’t think my hormones could take another dose of this exuberant display of masculine perfection.

He just gave me a devilish smile and teasingly said, “Is it too much for you, Sienna? You just say the word and we can remedy that problem, immediately.”

I shrugged. What word? How about three words? Let’s just fuck?

“Thought you needed a reminder—that we’d be explosive together.” That hoarse, gruff voice again. It was making my body hum like no other. “But I want your all, poppet.”

Don’t I know it!

“Baby steps, Blake.” There was no doubt in my mind that we would be explosive, but I was trying to delay the inevitable. Once I let him in, there was no going back. There was no doubt in my mind that he would take everything; he would consume me without concession.

It would be easy to fall for Blake. Most women did, but I would be vulnerable, open, defenseless.

S

“Loser!” I proclaimed with a little victory dance, hands waving high and hips swaying.

“Don’t count your eggs yet, two more games to go,” Blake declared playfully.

We were playing Scrabble. I’ll show him who’s the BOSS! I had won two-to-one and he was a little annoyed because I kept teasing him. This was the second time I’d won a round with him and we’d played possibly a hundred games all together. I was ecstatic in my victory!

I was dancing one of my victory dances again when he pulled me to the couch and tickled me until I was out of breath, panting loudly as my thoughts were provoked. I badly wanted him to kiss me again, but he never tried. I wouldn’t beg, though I was dying inside. It was as if the incident that morning had never happened. How does he switch off like that? Hot and smoldering one second to casual and friendly the next?

S

Standing in the open, built-in wine cellar, I was biting and twisting my lips in frustration. My indecisiveness was causing me to contemplate for the umpteenth time as to what kind of red wine to drink when he snaked his arm over my shoulder and grabbed his preferred wine.

“Do you feel like a bottle of Barolo?” Blake asked close to my ear. His question barely registered because I was hyperventilating.

I cleared my throat before I responded with a steady sounding voice, “I was actually thinking of Pinot Noir or that, but you’ve made up my mind. Go get the wine ready. I’ll go fetch the popcorn, Parisian cake and the fruits.”

I could get used to the domesticated scene with Blake. He was so easy to be around; charming, thoughtful, witty and sexy, but most of all, he made me laugh. It wouldn’t be difficult to fall in love with him.

We watched another movie, our third one that day. Love Actually, one of our favorite movies. It was funny, sad and heart-warming at the same time. I snuggled close, drawing his heat and the need to be near him. He pulled me closer and placed my head against his strong, solid chest and held me firmly. I listened to his heart beating steadily, closing my eyes as he started to stroke my arm gently and I sighed with blissful contentment.

Life certainly was starting again, whether I wanted it to or not.