When I wake up two hours later I’m slightly disoriented, the soft leather of the couch under me instead of Justin’s warm body, the late afternoon sun filtering in through the blinds, the television dark and quiet. I sit up quickly, looking around blearily, rubbing my face and trying to wake up.
I pull myself from the couch, stretching languidly and then I hear it, his voice from a few rooms away, singing. I grin to myself, following the sound of his voice through the laundry room and into the kitchen where I find him at the center island, cutting up vegetables, singing and bobbing his head to the music in his headphones.
“Justin,” I say grinning and he doesn’t look up, just continues to sing softly to himself. “Justin,” I say again and still nothing. I step closer. “JUSTIN!”
He jumps about three feet in the air, ripping his headphones from his ears and dropping the knife with a clatter. He steps backward quickly, avoiding the sharp edge as it falls to the floor.
I rush forward. “Oh god, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “Yeah,” he says again, chuckling at himself and clutching his chest. “Damn girl you’re dangerous.” He grins at me and I can’t help but smile back. “You sleep okay?” he asks, bending to pick up the knife from the floor before dropping it in the sink and retrieving another one.
“Mmmm yes. You’re a very good pillow,” I reply and he grins at me, his eyes twinkling as he continues cutting up carrots.
“Whatcha doin?” I ask, leaning on the counter across from him.
“Making you dinner,” he smirks and I beam at him.
“Just for me?” I ask playfully and he nods, his eyes dancing.
“I sent everyone away for the evening,” he replies, picking up the cutting board and sliding the carrots into a pan of water. “It’s just you and me tonight,” he adds, grabbing a potato from the sink and beginning to peel it, the edge of the blade coming dangerously close to his thumb as he skims away the skin.
“Just you and me huh?” I ask, my stomach fluttering.
“MmmHmm,” he responds, nodding his head and then his eyes meet mine. “No interruptions.” I shiver and he grins. “Oh, I got something for you. On the table,” he says nodding towards the breakfast nook nestled into the bay window that overlooks the backyard.
I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously, walking over to table and see a black plastic bag with the Verizon emblem slashed in red across the front. I grin as I reach inside and my fingers close around a cell phone, my phone except brand new.
“I had Ray pick it up for you,” he says, his knife still moving steadily over the skin of the potatoes as I flip it open and scroll through my contacts, finding everything the same as it was before.
“She didn’t have to do that,” I murmur checking my text messages, all from my best friend, Connie, their urgency increasing over time. “I’ll have to get her a card or something.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Justin says, shaking his head. “It’s her job.”
“Not to get me a phone,” I say looking up at him and he blinks at me.
“Yeah but I asked her to. She has to do what I tell her,” Justin grins charmingly and I can’t help but giggle at him.
“You’re a brat.”
“You love it.”
I don’t respond to this, which is enough of an affirmation for him to smile cheekily at me as he starts to cut up the potatoes.
“I’m gonna go upstairs and freshen up a little,” I say airily, turning dramatically and I can hear him chuckle.
“Okay, dinner should be ready in forty-five minutes,” he replies and I turn back in time to see him pop a piece of raw potato in his mouth, chewing slowly as he reaches for his headphones again.
Thirty minutes later when I pad down the stairs and peek into the kitchen, I find Justin peering into the oven and I grin as I clear my throat. He lets the door to the oven close and turns to me, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. His jaw drops slightly as he takes in plunge v-neck of my summer dress, the handkerchief hem falling just above my knees. I saunter in slowly, my hands behind my back and he grins widely, dropping the towel to the counter before rounding the island to reach for me. I can feel the warmth of his hands through the thin cotton of my dress and he licks his lips, growling when he doesn’t feel the line where my panties usually are.
I raise my arms and circle them around his neck, pressing my body fully against his, my nose nuzzling his gently, looking up at him coyly from under my lashes. His eyes darken, pressing his mouth to mine hard and I’m glad he’s holding me so close because my knees actually go weak. His tongue surges past my lips, stealing my breath as his hands smooth down over my ass, squeezing gently. I gasp when he lifts me, hoisting me up onto the kitchen island and my fingers fist in his curls as his mouth devours mine, making me dizzy with want. My fingers fumble with the hem of his t-shirt, hands slipping under it to smooth warmly around his ribs, clutching at his back, nails scraping his skin. He nudges my legs farther apart, one hand smoothing up and down my thigh, the other tugging at the strap of my dress. His lips trail down the side of my neck, leaning me back so he can lick and suck on the skin exposed by the low neckline of my dress.
I move restlessly against him, tugging his waist forward so that he’s pressed against me and he’s already half hard. I moan softly, one hand delving into his hair again and tugging, forcing him to pull back so I can crush my mouth to his again. He moans into my mouth, the hand on my thigh sliding to cup my center and I moan in approval, begging to be touched. He hisses when his fingers come in contact with my bare flesh, tracing in my wetness teasingly. My hand slides down his chest, reaching to rub my palm against the crotch of his jeans and he hisses, his head falling back and I nibble at his neck, pressing harder, wanting him right now.
We’re jarred out of our lustful fondling by a high-pitched beeping sound and Justin pulls back startled. We both look around dazed, finding the kitchen hazy with smoke and we turn to each other wide eyed.
“Shit, the roast!” Justin exclaims, pulling back from me suddenly and skittering around the kitchen island.
He rips open the oven door, grabbing for a towel before pulling the flaming roast out of the oven. He drops it quickly in the sink, beating at the flames frantically with the towel and I hop off the counter, looking for any way to help.
“Hang on!” I exclaim over the loud wail of the smoke alarm, grabbing for the spray nozzle on the sink.
I turn on the cold water, heart pounding hard as I spray at the pan, water going everywhere but finally the flames die down, the smoke detector still screeching loudly in the background. Justin growls, stumbling towards the control panel on the wall and jabbing at buttons until finally all is quiet again aside from our labored breathing and beating hearts. He turns to look at me and heaves a sigh, his eyes asking if I’m okay. I nod, reaching up with the back of my hand to wipe a few stray droplets of water from my face.
“Well…” Justin says, walking back over to me, shaking the water from his arms and we both stare into the sink.
I glance at him, watching as he surveys the steaming block of charred meat, grumbling as he runs a hand over his handsome face. I watch as he presses his finger against the blackened meat, poking it as if asking if it was okay and I can’t help it. I burst out laughing, the released tension making me slightly slap happy and Justin just looks at me sighing. I can’t catch my breath, clutching on to his arm as my knees weaken from the force of my laughter, my stomach cramping with it until I can only make dry gasping sounds.
“Okay, okay,” Justin grumbles after a moment, chuckling slightly himself as he reaches to turn off the water. “It’s not that funny.”
“Oh but it is,” I gasp, pressing my face into his shoulder and sighing as the laughter finally subsides. “It really kind of is.” A few chuckles escape me again and I have to breathe deep so as not to be overcome completely once more.
“I wanted this to be a nice dinner,” Justin says quietly and I look up at him, finding him scowling slightly, poking the roast again as if he doesn’t want to believe it really is ruined.
“Aw babe,” I sigh, my hand reaching to cup his cheek. “It’s fine.” I kiss his jaw softly and he grumbles. “Hey,” I say, reaching for both his hands and he sighs, looking at me, as if he’s only humoring me. “Why don’t we have a picnic,” I say and his expression doesn’t change. “Come on, some sandwiches in the back yard,” I wrap my arms around his waist and he reciprocates slowly but is still skeptical, “laying on a blanket.” My nose nuzzles his and I can tell he’s starting to crack. “Just me and you.” My lips brush his and he sighs, pressing his mouth to mine sweetly, before pulling back with a sigh and he waits a beat before nodding.
I grin at him, pecking his lips softly and smacking him on the butt before moving around him to go to the fridge. Everything is going to be fine. Some sandwiches, a couple beers and him laid out on a blanket. This was just a minor setback.
