Damn, she had come home to a beautiful man grilling chops for her dinner.
She felt the tingle of that go from her scalp to her toes.
She tossed her bags on the counter and moved his way, meeting him just beyond the island.
He stopped when she made it to him but he didn’t reach out to her. He just stared down at her with that blank expression on his face that said he might be there, he might be grilling for her, but his guard was up.
She ignored it and moved in, fitting herself to his body, wrapping her arms around him and tipping her head back to hold his gaze.
“Chops?” she asked softly.
“Pork,” he stated unnecessarily, since it was doubtful after her earlier litany of what she didn’t like that they were lamb.
He hesitated a moment before settling his hands on her hips in a manner that was somewhat awkward, like he didn’t know what he was doing, how to be in a casual embrace.
“Yum,” she murmured.
He just stared down at her.
“If they’re going to be ready soon, I’ll run and be quick about changing,” she told him.
He nodded.
She lifted up on her toes, sliding a hand up his spine on a trajectory to his neck to pull him down to her for a kiss but he moved much more swiftly.
Lifting his hand, he tangled his fingers in the ponytail she’d pulled her curls into and held her still in a way the rest of her went still.
“Need to chat about something,” he muttered.
Oh no.
Evangeline didn’t think she could handle another one of Branch’s chats. Yes, sometimes when they were over, it was good they’d had them, fabulous, even awesome.
But they were draining and she needed a break.
At least a day.
“Branch—” she started carefully.
“Last night, babe, in your playroom you let me take over. It was good. Fuckin’ great. We both felt that. Or my take was we both felt that. I just need you to share that’s what it was for you.”
She was confused.
How could he not know that it was great for her too?
“I, uh … last night?”
He dipped his face an inch closer to hers and he dipped his voice when he spoke too. “I took over. In a scene, never been driven to that. And you gotta know, I was driven to that in a good way. Came natural. Seemed you were happy with the flow but you’ve had a scene turn and…”
Her heart again leaped in her chest in that cartoon way that if she was nothing but a drawing, it would bound out of her chest and slam into him.
She wasn’t a drawing but even so, the thump was so hard, she felt certain he had to feel it too.
He was worried about her. Looking out for her. Going over an experience that wasn’t like any they’d had together, wasn’t customary in the roles they both understood they held when they played, and he wanted to make sure she was all right with that.
“… I don’t want to bring him up again,” Branch kept talking, “but I gotta know you were in a good place with that then and I gotta know, time has passed, shit can fuck with your head, you’re still in a good place now.”
“That was hot,” she told him.
“Yeah,” he agreed, but did it watching her closely.
Oh yes.
Her big handsome boy was clueless.
He was so into her.
So she melted into him and started stroking the skin at the back of his neck, her fingers drifting through his soft hair to do it.
“I’m okay with it, honey. I was then and I am now. That wasn’t what I was expecting. But you didn’t read it wrong. I was far more than okay it went down the way it went down so you don’t have to worry.”
Even though it didn’t show in his face, his body relaxed in her arms.
God.
Branch.
She again slid up to her toes and tightened her arms. “That said, handsome, you were a bad boy.” She gave him a squeeze. “I knew you would be. And I’m glad you were. But more, I figure when it comes time for the reckoning, I have a feeling you’ll be glad you were too.”
Heat infused his gaze but that was all he gave her before he muttered, “Right.”
She grinned up at him.
A different kind of warmth mingled with the heat as he caught her smile.
Then he slid his hand in her hair to the back of her neck, the one at her hip to the small of her back, and sighed deeply, like a man who’d accepted his fate.
She knew he hadn’t fully accepted it, he wouldn’t make it that easy for her to get the win, but she also knew she’d get him there.
She knew that more when he dipped his head even further and gave her a brief, soft, closed-mouth kiss.
That was a far better greeting than “Chops’ll be done in a couple of minutes.”
When he lifted away, he ordered quietly, “Change.”
She used his earlier words in reply. “Right. On it.”
That earned her a hitch of his lips in a not-quite smile and he let her go.
When he did, Evangeline moved directly to the stairs, taking them slowly, but she hurried through changing because it was late and she was hungry.
And Branch had cooked her some chops.
* * *
Branch made love to her that night.
After thick, delicious, perfectly cooked pork chops that had been glazed in barbecue sauce that had earned its smoky flavor from more than just the bottle, a fresh salad full of greens, avocado, chopped red onion and Gorgonzola cheese, and fresh rolls slathered in soft butter, they caught an episode of True Detective (without his dick in her mouth) before they went up to bed.
Together.
As in, holding hands together.
She gave him no orders, wondering where he’d lead it.
And when the time came, he’d led it there.
Stopping her at the foot of the bed to take off her clothes and allowing her to pull off his.
Lifting her and putting her in the bed while kissing her.
Then touching her everywhere with his mouth. His lips. His tongue. His fingers.
It was not a race to an orgasm.
It was like he was memorizing the feel of her, her look, her scent, her taste. Drawing her in. Imprinting her on his brain.
And it wasn’t like it was all gorgeous.
It just was.
Gorgeous.
This multisensory exploration wasn’t just Branch’s to have. He allowed her the same privilege.
Taking that from him while he was tied down for her was one beauty.
Taking it from him while he was giving the same to her was another one.
But when he finally rolled her to her back, opened her legs with his knee, settled between and slid inside, he was done taking while giving.
He communicated this by capturing her wrists in both of his hands, pulling them over her head and pressing them into the pillows. Having her in position, he angled slightly away even as he moved slowly inside. His eyes dark and roaming her body, watching hers take his, his gaze eventually roved up her belly, breasts and to her face.
And then it locked on hers.
Her lips parted, soft pants escaping with each thrust, Evangeline wrapped one leg around his ass, the other around his thigh and lifted her hips to get more.
“Pretty,” he murmured and slid in deep, and she loved him there so much, her neck arched. “Always so pretty,” he whispered. “Now beautiful, full of me.”
“Branch,” she breathed, pressing at his hands at her wrists to communicate she wanted to touch him.
His fingers held on tighter.
“No, baby,” he denied gently, beginning again to move inside her. “When we have this, you’re mine.”
She felt her nipples contract.
“I want to touch you,” she told him.
At that, he transferred both of her wrists to one of his hands and slid the other one down her side. Thumb extended and pressing in at her ribs, his hand moved in and up, where he cupped her breast.
“You want touch,” he replied. “I’ll give it to you.”
“I want to do the touching.”
His hand at her breast moved, his thumb slipping hard against the nipple, and it felt so freaking good, she arched into him.
“Looks like I got it covered.”
She righted her head and tried to focus on him. “Baby—”
He started moving faster, thrusting deeper, and her soft pants weren’t so soft anymore.