Page 19 of Silk and Honey

A pleased, happy sensation washes over me. “It is. The spread is a classic cheese pimiento spread. You can use it on crackers or treat it like a dip, but it’s delicious like this.” I point at the pandesal.

"What time is it?" Avery asks, shuffling over to the counter and hopping onto one of the barstools.

"Past one."

Avery’s eyes go wide. "One? Oh my god, Gid. I never sleep past eight. Ezra is going to kill me—"

"It’s Sunday," I remind him softly, setting the hot skillet off the heat. I plate the sandwiches, and add some bacon before sliding it across the counter toward him. "The boutique is closed today. You have the day off."

Avery lets out a long, dramatic sigh of relief, his entire body relaxing as he slumps against the counter. "Right. Day off. Thank god. My brain is completely scrambled." He picks up the sandwich and takes a bite. A soft moan escapes his throat, his eyes closing. I’m ashamed to admit the tiny sound turns me on. "Wow. Okay,” he says. “The bee farmer can cook. This is incredible."

"It's just a sandwich," I reply, taking a seat on the stool next to him. I take a bite of my own food and hum. Avery’s right… this is good. Maybe it’s better since I used a different type of honey. I make a mental note to tell Ma.

"No, it's really fucking good,” Avery insists, pointing the remaining half of his sandwich at me. He looks at me for a long moment, his playful smile softening into something much warmer. Deeper. "Thank you, Gid. For everything last night, and for this."

"You don't have to thank me," I say with a soft smile. I reach across the small space between our stools, my thick thumb catching some spread at the corner of his mouth.

Avery smiles, tilting his head into my touch. We eat the rest of our lunch exchanging small details about our favorite foods and how Avery used to live on iced coffee and fast food during his time at Dee Rama Magazine. How the hell was he able to stay in such good shape? It’s obvious he works out, but does he actually like physical activity?

A picture of us starting our days together with a morning job or an afternoon workout have my heart skipping a beat. It’s a beautiful domestic picture, and something I’ve always wanted.

As soon as we finish eating, Avery stretches his arms over his head, a mischievous glint returning to his brown eyes. "Since we both have the entire day off, and my legs are still technically recovering from the farmer’s market, I think we are legally required to spend the afternoon doing absolutely nothing."

"Nothing?" I ask.

"Nothing," Avery beams, grabbing my hand and tugging me to my feet. "Come on. We're watching movies."

For the next several hours, the outside world ceases to exist. We pile every throw pillow from the living room onto Avery’s bed, before closing the blinds to block out the sun. The large television on his dresser plays a superhero action movie, but we’re barely paying attention.

Avery is lying against my side, and my large arms are wrapped securely around his waist. Every now and then, my fingers trace small patterns across his bare skin, making his skin goosebump.

Eventually, the movie fades into the background. The slow, rhythmic friction of my hands against his skin starts to turn into something heated and sensual.

Avery rolls over in my arms, shifting until he is straddling my lap once again, his brown eyes dark with a sudden, intense heat. He reaches down, his soft fingers tracing a path through the hair on my chest before moving up to cup my jaw.

"Yeah, I don't think I want to watch the movie anymore, big guy," he whispers against my lips.

"Is that so?" I rumble, my hands immediately cupping his ass through his sweats. "I mean, I was getting too turned on with all those superheroes in those tiny tights. So, I get it." I tease.

“And here I was thinking you were getting turned on by the new lingerie set I put on.”

My mouth falls open when I slip my hand in his sweats, fingers gliding over silk. I groan. Fuck me, is that a silk thong? Has he been wearing this the whole damn time?

When our mouths meet, the slow sweetness of the afternoon disappears. I roll him beneath me, my large frame pressing him against the mattress as my lips move against his. Every damn time we kiss it’s possessive and hungry. Avery gasps, his fingers tangling in my hair, yanking me closer.

Between the heavy, breathless kisses, Avery pulls his head back just an inch, his chest heaving. "Wait—Gid, wait."

I freeze, my chest pressing against his, my breathing rough. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Avery pants, a sudden look of realization crossing his face. "But it's late afternoon. Kai might come home any minute, and these walls are incredibly thin."

I grunt. "I'll double check the front door is locked."

"No need. He has a key. Let's turn on some music," Avery suggests, reaching over the edge of the bed to grab his phone off the floor. His fingers tap the screen quickly, routing the audio to a small Bluetooth speaker sitting on his bookshelf. "Just in case."

A heavy, driving drum beat suddenly fills the bedroom, followed by the loud, distorted strum of an electric guitar and a high-energy indie rock melody.

I freeze, my head snapping toward the speaker. Avery pauses too, his phone still in his hand, his eyebrows knitting together as the male vocalist starts singing a fast, energetic verse.