He moves to the edge of the bed, and I walk out of the bathroom toward him. I go up to him and move between his legs, and this time he has to look up at me. His big hands grip my hips before he leans forward and places a kiss on my stomach. I run my fingers through his dark wavy hair, the thick locks silky between my fingers.
“I messed up your hair.”
“I don’t care,” he says against my skin before placing another kiss there. The hands on my hips dig in a little more before he finally drops them.
I walk over to the closet and look for something to wear. I settle on black, high-waisted pants that are tight at the ankles, a gray silk top and red heels. The pants will show off every inch of the shoes, my favorite pair, which Paige got me for my birthday. They make me look sexy.
Oz continues to watch me as I get dressed.
“All ready?” I say when I’m finished buckling the heels.
Oz stands from the bed and makes his way over to me. He cups my face with gentle hands and bends to kiss me.
“You look beautiful, Mallory. Now let me feed you.”
I nod and grab my phone and both our coffees from the bedside table. Oz bends, picking my discarded T-shirt off the floor. I think he’s going to toss it in the hamper next to my closet, but instead he brings it to his nose, smelling it, before tucking it under his arm.
“What are you doing?” I ask, taking a few steps toward him, handing him his coffee.
“I have to leave today instead of tomorrow.” Disappointment hits me. That’s an extra day he’ll be gone. I’ve really become attached to him so quickly. That thought alone should scare the shit out of me.
“What does that have to do with my shirt?”
“I’m taking it with me.”
“You’re taking my shirt with you?”
“Yep,” is all he offers as he turns, heading down the hallway. I follow him, shaking my head. When we get to the living room area, he grabs the bag he set down earlier by the door and walks over to the kitchen. I follow suit and watch as he pulls pastries out of the bag.
“The shirt that you seemed to have a problem with this morning, you’re now taking?”
He turns, taking my coffee from my hand and placing it on the kitchen counter, before grabbing me and sitting me next to it. The man easily moves me around my kitchen like I weigh nothing. It makes me feel feminine and sexy.
“I thought it was another man’s shirt.” He picks up a muffin and rips a piece off, bringing it to my mouth. I’m noticing this man likes to feed me. I open, letting him put the piece in my mouth. I chew the delicious blueberry muffin and swallow before asking him my question.
“You were jealous?”
“Yes,” he confirms, bringing another bite to my lips. I can’t help but smile before I open my mouth and take it from him.
“You like that I was jealous?”
“No, of course not,” I half lie. Who wouldn’t be pleased that the man you’re crushing on doesn’t like the idea of you and other men?
“But you don’t like the idea of me with another man?” I push, wanting to know where he stands.
“No,” he says sharply.
“I don’t like the idea of you with another woman either.”
“Good,” he responds, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page.
“So. We’re exclusive then?” I play with the edge of the napkin in front of me, not wanting to see his reaction.
“Mallory.” The way he says my name makes my eyes snap up to his. “There was never anyone after the first time I saw you. And there damn sure won’t be anyone after. This is exclusive. It’s so goddamn exclusive, I can’t stand the thought of anyone else looking at you.”
The butterflies are taking flight again, but I’m melting at his words. They should probably scare me, but they make me fall even deeper for him. I like that he isn’t playing it cool and says what he thinks. Even if what he thinks is a little overwhelming.
“Good,” I say, and take another bite of blueberry muffin from him.
He smiles at me, his dimples showing. “I like your answer.”
“Have you ever been exclusive with anyone else?” I find myself asking. Once the words are out of my mouth I want to take them back. I don’t want to hear about his past with other women.
His hand comes under my chin making me look up at him. “No. I dated when I was young but nothing serious. I’ve been very driven from a young age and all my focus has always been there. You’ll soon notice I’m an all or nothing kind of person and I don’t waste my time on things that I don’t think will matter.” He leans in a little more, his breath on my face. “You matter.” He says it in a way that almost seems like I’m all that matters.