After a tragic event drives her out of little Hillsborough, NC, 19-year-old Meghan Greene finds herself living in a Manhattan apartment with her best friend Chelsea Matthews. Officially enrolled in NYU and wanting to forget about her old life in her...
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Three Weeks Later
Meghan
"I thought I heard you in here," I murmured as I leant against the entry to the kitchen. Sebastian stood there in all his beautiful glory, bare chest showing off his magnificently sculptured abs and his muscled arms, his boxers slung low on his hips showing off that prominent V-shape I loved so much, his hair in disarray on the top of his head.
He turned around and gave me a dazzling smile, holding a spatula in one hand and a plate in the other. He set both down before walking towards me and wrapping his arms around me, nuzzling his head between my shoulder and my neck and breathing deeply, "good morning baby."
I nearly melted right on the spot, his voice was low and seductive, sleep still laced in it as he sighed in content and placed a kiss on my neck. I shivered. He pulled back to look at me with a gleam in his eyes as he leaned in and pecked my lips with his own. "What're you making?" I asked as he turned back around and stood in front of the stove again.
"Pancakes," he flipped one onto the plate and then turned the stove off. I watched as he leaned towards a cabinet and pulled out a small bottle of pills, opening it up and taking two out before grabbing a glass and pouring some orange juice in it.
I knew the routine by now.
Wake up, take pills, eat food.
And Sebastian had been an incredible boyfriend through it all. He kept everything organized and had the times memorized for when I was supposed to take my medication. I sauntered towards one of the stools that sat along the breakfast bar and climbed onto it, waiting for him to bring me breakfast.
"We've got pancakes, bacon, a side of fruit and your medicine" he said as he placed everything in front of me. My stomach growled and he smiled, but I felt the familiar warmth radiate from my cheeks that were surely covered in a blush.
I popped a piece of pancake into my mouth and moaned at how delicious it was. He truly was an amazing pancake maker and I made sure to tell him every time, always something along the lines of, "I love you because of your pancake skills," and he always laughs. Today was no different.
He walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist so I was flush against his chest. I could feel every nook and cranny of his chiseled front through the thin fabric of my shirt and feel his breath against my ear as he mischievously whispered, "only because of my pancakes?" Goosebumps erupted on my skin when he nuzzled his nose against my neck, his fingers drawing circles on the exposed skin of my hips from where my shirt had ridden up.
The man was insatiable, but now that things were on track I hadn't been able to keep my hands to myself and in turn I let him worship me in every way he knew how. And boy did he know what he was doing. His hands slid down and pushed my knees apart, his fingers trailing up my thighs slowly, torturously.
