Sweet Addiction(42)

“Dylan.”

I shake my head in disapproval. “It’s Sparks,” I huff.

He chuckles in amusement. “Wow. That’s ridiculously fitting.” Before I can ask him what the hell that meant he looks away from me and pays attention to the call. “Alright thanks.” Placing the phone back in his pocket, he kisses me quickly on my nose and I groan in protest.

“Why is Sparks fitting?”

His lip twitches. “Because, you’re like this little firecracker.” I laugh as he plants a kiss on my forehead, running his hands up and down my arms. “Dinner will be here in twenty. Oh, before I forget, we’re having this big meeting with some clients on Tuesday and I was wondering if you would like to provide some of your treats for it.”

I run my fingers through his damp hair, causing it to curl a bit at the ends. “I’d love to. What kind of treats?”

“I don’t know. It’s at 10:00 a.m. so I guess breakfast treats?” His forehead creases as he looks past me and thinks it over. Lord, he is adorable.

I smile and play with his T-shirt, bunching it up in my hands. “Well, I happen to make some mean breakfast treats. How many people am I providing for?”

“Twelve.”

I nod. “Okay. I’ll make sure to have enough for everyone to have three, that way if they don’t get eaten, which is absurd, then you can have the extra.”

“Great. I’ll pay you in orgasms.” Well that was way too tempting. His smirk lingers as I carefully think about his offer, looking up at the ceiling for my answer.

“Eh,” I finally reply and he wraps me up, kissing me once and then once more, longer and softer as I melt.

We sit in comfortable silence as we eat our dinner on the floor in my living room. Reese makes sure to point out that I am indeed hungry, watching me with amusement as I tear into both of his orders. And I make sure to point out that he is the one who ate most of the frosting. I exhale heavily and lean against the partition, resting my hand on my belly as he sticks the leftovers in my fridge and returns to sit across from me.

“Full?” he asks.

“Very. That was crazy good though, I haven’t had Chinese since Joey and I ordered it on Easter weekend and we puked it up in my bathroom after a night of binge drinking.” He motions with his hands for me to elaborate. “He got dumped by this guy through a singing telegram.”

“Jesus, that’s really shitty. I didn’t realize those things were still around.”

I nod and laugh slightly. “Me either, it was awful. The telegram came to the shop and he sang in front of all these customers. Joey was so embarrassed.” I brush the tendril that is tickling my cheek out of my face. “So in typical you just got dumped and your best friends are going to cheer you up fashion, Juls and I bought all this alcohol and we played drinking games all night. It was really fun until we all got sick.” I shake my head at the memory. “And that is why Tequila and I are no longer on speaking terms.”

He laughs, resting back on his hands, his long legs stretching in front of him brushing against mine. “I can’t imagine you drunk. Do you get even feistier or are you an angry fireball? Because honestly, I can kind of see both.”

I giggle and rub my bare foot against his leg. “Neither actually. I get really loud and start giving people nicknames, and then I usually get emotional which is always fun for everybody.” I laugh and he smiles at me. “What about you? Do you get extra flirty or do you start hitting people? Cause I can kind of see both.” He moves closer and pulls my foot into his lap, rubbing it and causing me to moan softly.

“I don’t get drunk. Well, at least I haven’t since I was seventeen. I don’t usually have more than a few drinks at a time.” He pauses briefly and narrows his eyes at me. “How old are you?” His weird line of questioning causes me to give him a strange look. He notices it and continues, “I just realized I have no idea.”

“Jeez, good thing I’m legal.” He smirks at me and I shake my head disapprovingly. “I’m twenty-six. So why don’t you get drunk?”

He seems to mull over my answer with a smile. “I don’t want to so I don’t. I think drinking specifically for the purposes of getting drunk is bullshit.”

“Well you haven’t had someone break up with you through a musical number.” I pull my foot out of his grasp when he starts tickling it, quickly tucking it under my other knee. I try to stiffen my yawn but give into it, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. I am thoroughly exhausted from all my orgasms and my full belly is making me sleepy. Reese stands up and holds his hand out to me and I allow him to help me to my feet. This gesture will also never get old.