The meeting that morning had been informative and had included all of the resources available to women who wanted to leave their men. She adored Swift, but she meant what she said.
“I understand,” he replied solemnly. “I will show you every day I’ve learned to be a better man.”
“All right.” Not wanting to discuss this a moment longer, she said, “Now show me your dough.”
“What? Oh.” He grabbed a handful of the dough and stretched it. “Is this good?”
“Yes. Now, rub some oil on your hands.” He shot her a mischievous look, and she swatted at him again. “Behave.”
“Fine.” He did as instructed. “Now what?”
“Make it into a big ball like this.” She made the movements. “And then tuck it under like this.” She watched him work. “Yes, just like that. Put it back in the bowl.” She draped a clean dish towel over the top. “And that’s that.”
When does it go into the oven?”
“Later, after it rises twice.”
“So, we have some time to—?”
“No, I have to prep dinner now.”
“Oh,” he replied glumly.
“It will go faster if you help.” It was a tactic that often worked with her brothers when there were hard chores to be done and they wanted to go play. Swift took the bait and cozied up next to her as she handed him vegetables to scrub. He handled a knife well, but it would take him a while to master chopping and dicing produce.
Not that she told him that. She offered only encouraging smiles, all the while hoping this would be a regular occurrence. Her mother had always said that cooking for your family was a way to show love, and she couldn’t think of a better way for the two of them to grow closer together than cooking and sharing meals.
“Is it always this messy?” Swift asked as she placed all the ingredients for their meal into the special slow cooking device from one of the cabinets. She had discovered it yesterday and asked Hallie about it at their meeting. Looking at the manual now, she selected the correct setting for their meal.
“No.” She eyed the flour dusted on his shirt and pants. “Usually, I wear an apron. Which reminds me,” she added, walking to the sink to clean her hands. “Can I visit the women’s shops tomorrow? I need fabric.” She hesitated. “And maybe a new dress?”
“If you’re like the other mates, you won't go to the shops with just one new dress,” he remarked as he loaded all the dirty utensils into the dishwashing device.
Not yet fully aware of their financial situation, she quickly backtracked. “I can wait for more clothing until you—.”
“Alys.” He closed the dishwasher door and straightened up. “It’s not a problem. In fact, I want you to buy new things so you can come home and model them for me.”
His playful smile gave her a thrill. “Is everything about sex with you?”
“Not everything,” he said, stalking toward her with a gleam in his eye.
“Swift,” she said, taking two steps back.
“Alys,” he said, taking three steps toward her. “I’m pretty sure you told me that after we made bread dough I could bend you over the counter.”
“I’m not sure I remember that,” she replied, trying not to smile.
“Well, I have a very good memory, and I do. And,” he emphasized, “I helped with the meal and cleanup.”
“And now you want to be rewarded? I think there are some cookies left in that box from yester—.” She squealed as Swift lunged and captured her. His mouth crashed into hers, and she gripped his shoulders so she wouldn’t fall. Not that she needed to worry about that. He wrapped his arms around her waist and cradled her close to his chest. His mouth never left hers as he maneuvered her back toward the counter.
“Turn around,” he urged, pressing on her shoulder. She flattened her palms against the countertop as he boxed her in from behind. She gasped when his hands slipped under her skirt. It was the most modest of the dresses in the box and skimmed her upper calf so there was little fabric in Swift’s way. Even so, he seemed annoyed by it and tugged at the tie at her hip. The dress fell open and he pulled it off her body.
“Better,” he murmured and then kissed her neck again. She shivered as his lips moved along her skin. He grasped her hips and skimmed his teeth along her pulse point. She exhaled roughly and welcomed his rough, hot hands moving over her curves, plucking at her underthings until she was naked. He shocked her by sliding his hand between her thighs from behind, shoving her legs apart and touching her intimately.
“Swift.” She rose on tiptoes, her jaw dropping as his fingers did wicked things. He swirled around her clitoris with his longest two fingers while his thumb dipped inside her opening. The slick heat of her arousal coated his fingers, and she marveled at how quickly he could take her from something as mundane as making dinner to full-blown lust.
“I wonder how fast I can make you come,” he growled against her ear.
“Swift,” she pleaded, her face burning hot.
“Are you close?”
“No,” she admitted, “but if you keep doing that, I will be.”
“I’ve got something better in mind.” He spun her around and knelt at her feet. “Legs up here.”
She thought he was out of his mind, but that didn’t stop her from following his command. She lifted one leg onto his shoulder and then the other, using the counter behind her for support. Her bare bottom touched the cold metal surface, and she hissed at the shock of it. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she would be able to look their guest in the eye at dinner. It would be hard not to see this counter and think of Swift doing what he was doing right now.
A few days ago, she had never even heard of this act, and now, it was her favorite thing. It seemed to be Swift’s as well. He jumped at every chance he got to put his tongue between her thighs. The enthusiastic sounds he made as he licked and fluttered made her lightheaded and giddy. The fact that he was so good at it made it even better.
“Swift,” she whimpered. “I’m...”
He groaned against her—what did he call it? Pussy. She wasn’t sure she would ever be able to use the filthy words he did, but she found it easier to think them. The two fingers that were thrusting in and out of her sopping sex moved faster and shallower as his tongue swirled and flicked. Her orgasm crashed down upon her, and she threw her head back, unceremoniously whacking it against the cabinet. The sharp snap of pain was nothing to the wild euphoria rolling through her and she paid it no mind.
Swift laughed as he kissed her inner thighs and wiped his mouth on her skin. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She rubbed the back of her head. “I think.”
“Let me check.” He stood and gently pulled her forward to inspect the back of her head. His fingertips moved over her scalp. “No blood. Only a tiny bump.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It was worth it.” She slid her hands along his shoulders and then to the back of his neck. She stroked the bristly hair that he kept closely shaved and then traced the shaved stripes on the side of his head. This close, she could count the freckles dusting his nose and forehead and see the darker slate flecks in his sky-blue eyes. “You’re really handsome.”