Her mouth dropped open.

“Right, too early 2000s.” He rummaged through the bucket again and pulled out a bright red bottle. Turning it over he read, “Cherry Bomb Harlot. Fantastic.”

While she finished eating, he painted his toe nails. “Dammit,” he muttered, using a cotton ball to swipe at some polish. “This is harder than it looks.”

“Are you ready for me now?” she asked as he inspected his feet.

“Give a bloke a minute for his polish to dry.”

She stifled a laugh. “It looks great on you. All the guys will be jealous.”

He waved his toes, the bright red paint glaring. “Next time, I’ll go Goth.” He pointed to the chair. “Be a good customer and sit.”

She stood, then moved from the kitchen into the family room. Submerging her feet into the hot water, Rose sighed blissfully and flexed her calves. She leaned back in the chair and moaned. “Nothing’s ever felt so good.”

Sasha snorted. “I suppose I should be offended, but since I’m responsible for your look of sublime pleasure, I’ll let it inflate my ego.”

She smiled. “I’m sure your ego is inflated without my approval or pleasure.”

He knelt down and lifted one of her feet, drying it off before he began to rub lotion up and down her calf. “Mind my cheat sheet, love. I downloaded it before entering the black hole of cell phone signals otherwise known as your house.”

Glancing at his phone, she could barely make out the instructions. “Are those fun to play with?”

“You’d have more fun playing with me.” His fingers drifted to the arch of her foot. She giggled and jerked, almost kicking him in the chest. “Good God, woman, behave.”

“I’m too ticklish,” she gasped.

“Fine, we’ll go to painting straightaway then.” Letting go of her foot, he rummaged through the bucket and pulled out two different polishes. One was dark blue mixed with glitter and the other a bright pink. “Pick.”

“Which one do you think I like?” she asked, feeling a little flirty.

His gaze dropped to the bottles and she watched with a sinking heart as he placed the dark blue one on the floor. That was the one she wanted. It reminded her of midnight skies with sparkling stars. “Galaxy suits you,” he said and gently lobbed the pink one to the side. “So does being pampered.”

She peered at him through her lashes, a shy smile covering her face. “I think being pampered by you suits me.”

He paused and tilted his head to the side, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “It suits me to pamper you, love,” he murmured and bent his golden head to see to his work.

Sublime pleasure filled Rose.

After she’d been properly polished, Rose held her hands out and wiggled her fingers, grinning. “That was my very first manicure and pedicure.”

He paused in the middle of cleaning off the kitchen table. “Honestly?”

“Yes.” She nodded and stuck out a foot. Silver sparkles caught the light as Blackbeard examined her pinky toe. “I’ll help you finish cleaning.”

“No, you’ve been up since six. I’ll take care of this,” he said, dumping liquid dish soap in a sink rapidly filling with hot water. “You take Ivy and go to bed.”

Impulsively, Rose ran over to Sasha and gave him a brief hug. “Thank you.” Then she turned away, not wanting to see his reaction. She unfastened Ivy, scooped her out and bolted for her bedroom.

***

On Thursday evening, she found him at the stove, wearing her grandmother’s apron.

“You’re late.” He waved a spatula at the nearest chair. “Sit.”

“What’s on tonight’s menu?” The aroma made her mouth water in anticipation.

Sasha placed three bowls on the table, only two with serving spoons. “A very special meal.” He pointed to each dish. “Roasted butternut squash, sazda with nyama, and for dessert, mapopo candy. It’s made from papaya. You’ll love it.”

“What makes it so special?” she asked as he removed the apron, folding and setting it on the counter.

He moved to the table and sat down beside her. “It’s a traditional dish of Masvingo. That’s where my mum lived when she was little.” Pinching off a bite-size portion of what looked like a thick tortilla, he rolled it in his palm and dipped the ball in the meat stew.

“Where’s that?”

“Far away from here.” He lifted it to her mouth. “Open.”

“You’re going to feed me?”

He gave her a crooked grin. “Sharing food is something that family does in Masvingo.”

“I don’t know.” She squirmed in her chair. Somehow the act of him feeding her seemed very intimate, something lovers did for one another.

“It’s not poison, Rose.” He dipped the ball of sazda, then drew air circles with it. “One bite, love.”

Feeling slightly silly, she barely opened her mouth.

“Wider.”

Sighing, she widened it and Sasha’s green eyes glinted.

“Not that wide—I don’t want to actually watch you chew it.”

Jerking back, she began to clamp her lips together, but he popped it in before they closed. Flavor exploded in her mouth and she moaned in appreciation.

“What every man most likes to hear when a woman has her mouth full of his…cooking.” Sasha waggled his eyebrows as she chewed.

She giggled. “More please.”

He fed her another bite. “That particular phrase a close second.”

“Stop, I’ll choke.” Somehow she managed to swallow and he fed her yet another bite.

“Third.”

“Now I get to feed you,” she said, pinching off a bite-sized portion of the thick tortilla, rolling it in her hand, then dipping it in the meat stew. He grinned as she held it up to his mouth. His lips parted and she pushed the sazda inside.

“Delicious,” he said, after chewing and swallowing it down.

They fed each other. Sasha purposefully nipping at her fingers when it was her turn. She couldn’t stop giggling. “Quit biting me.”

“But I like the extra flavor,” he said with a teasing smile. “One last bite then dessert, yes?”

“Yes.” She began to part her lips, but the heat of his gaze stopped her. “What?”

“Close your eyes this time,” he gently ordered, his voice husky.

Her lashes fluttered down, but she quickly opened her eyes again to find him leaning closer. So close that she could count the freckles on his nose. Forget counting them, she wanted to kiss each one. Instead she concentrated on the meal he’d fixed. So simple, yet so exotic. Unexpected.

As if sensing her inner turmoil, he set the sazda in the middle of his plate and said, “You’re the first person I’ve shared this with since both of my parents were alive.”

Taking a deep breath, she wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin, then set it on the table. “Why’s your mom in a coma?”

“Failing health.”

“But what made her health fail in the first place?” She wanted, no she needed, him to be honest with her.

His jaw worked and his eyes got a faraway look to them. “Drunk driver hit the car we were in. The shite facilities did the rest.” He stood and grabbed one of the bowls, then dumped it into the sink. “I’d rather not talk about this.”

“What about dessert? I promise to keep my eyes closed this time,” she said, trying to tease him.

“This was a bad idea.”

Before she knew what she was doing, she had risen from her chair and crossed the small space between them. Laying a hand on his arm, she gave a light squeeze. “It’s not your fault, you know.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else than with her. “You’re wrong.”

“How so? Were you the drunk driver?” Her heart began to pound in her chest. Was that why he refrained from drinking most of the time?

“Hell, no.”

“What did you do when you found out that those facilities were bad?”

His hand dropped and curled into a fist. “Persuaded the powers that be to move her.”

“See,” she said, giving him a gentle smile. “You’re not the bad guy you pretend to be.”

He briefly raised his brows and flattened his lips. “As much as I hate repetition, you’re wrong.”

She wound her arms around his unyielding form and leaned against him. “I don’t believe it.” Sure he’d made really bad decisions, but the things he did to make up for them, to make it up to her were more than lip service.

“You should—” He placed his hand under her chin, tilting it up to meet his hard gaze, “—because I want to do very bad things to you.”

Heat flooded her body, finding the tips of her fingers and the ends of her toes. “Like what?”

He cupped her breast, his thumb rubbing across her nipple. “Touch you here.”

It tightened in response and she arched into the sheer pleasure of his touch. “Is that all?”

“No, you little temptress, that’s not all.” He sank to his knees and ran his hands under the bottom of her flowered skirt and up her legs. “Hold this.”

She grasped the material with one hand and gripped the countertop with the other to keep from melting to the floor.

He pressed heated kisses to her leg along the way, his hot breath wafting against her skin in delicious waves. “I want to tie you to my bed and have you at my mercy.” His talented tongue found her birthmark and traced it, making her gasp and tremble. “I want to lick cream from your nipples while you ride me. I want to put raspberries here—” His fingers slid under her panties and lightly stroked her, “—and feast.”

A low moan erupted from her throat. She could barely draw in enough air as he tugged her panties down her legs. Grabbing her hips with his large hands, he turned her so that she leaned against the counter.

Eyes as dark and mysterious as the forest sought hers. “Let me love you this way.”

Flustered she looked around the room, belatedly remembering Ivy was snug in her crib upstairs.

“It’s only you and me, sweetheart.”

Swallowing, she managed a nod and hitched her skirt higher, legs trembling.

The first pass of his tongue made her knees buckle and his hands slid to her bottom, anchoring her. His tongue delved, parting the damp curls and she tensed, waiting for his tender assault. Apparently, Sasha had other ideas. Ideas that made her weak and wet.

He lightly stroked her, teased her as the tip of his tongue traced the delicate folds. Looking down, she watched him as his lips pressed against her, his head moving in gentle nods. She moaned at the carnal sight.

He clutched her bottom tighter and pressed his tongue deeper. Finally-finally- stroking her where she ached the most. Over and over, until she was shaking and biting her lip to keep from screaming.

He hummed low in his throat and looked up, his lips shiny with her. “You are delectable.” He kissed her curls before asking, “Shall I continue?”

Rose grabbed his head with her free hand, pulling him back to her. “God, yes.” The next few flicks of his tongue had her moaning his name. Another slide and she shattered into fragmented pieces of herself.

Closing her eyes, she leaned heavily against the counter and felt his hands leave her. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She needed more. Him. Sasha.

Rising to his feet, he kissed the side of her neck, sucking at a tender spot. She could feel his erection as it rubbed the cradle of her hips through his pants.

“What about you?” She was more than willing to satisfy him.

“This wasn’t about me.”

“Take me to your bed, here…it doesn’t matter where…I still want you.”

He swept her up in his arms and placed her on the counter, then groaned. “You deserve a bed.”

Lifting her in his arms once more, he practically ran down the hall, taking the stairs two at a time. Several heartbeats later he threw her into the middle of his bed, his body covering hers. His tongue invaded the seam of her lips, easing inside with a finesse that made her want to weep and tear his hair out.

She parted her thighs and he rocked against her. Wanting more, she struggled to wrap her legs around his hips, but her skirt was tangled around her knees.

“Help me,” she pleaded.

He pushed the elastic waistband of her skirt over her hips and down her legs. Desperate to have him, she jerked his sweater over his head and reached for his pants, but he’d beaten her to it.

He stood and kicked them away. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs, he shoved them down and off. Then he gave her a pirate’s smile and jumped on the bed again, enveloping her in his arms while his heavy erection pressed against her inner thigh.

“I’m overdressed,” she whispered against his throat.

“Can’t have that.” He stripped away the remainder of her clothes while she kissed and bit at his shoulders, his chin and earlobe. “You remember everything I like, don’t you?” he growled in her ear.

“It suits me,” she said playfully.

Cool air washed over her nipples and his hot mouth covered one as it tightened. She arched off the bed when he began to suck deeply. She writhed beneath him, his hands and mouth everywhere. There wasn’t a part of him that didn’t cover her. No matter which way she turned, his hands were there to caress her hip, her arm or cheek. Unable, it seemed, to let any part of her go untouched.