Free Beauty and the Feast by Julia Barrett

who the president it?”
    “Obama.”
    “Do you know what day it is?”
    “Sunday.”
    “What did you do yesterday?”
    “I cooked for you.”
    She was silent for a moment, then she spoke his name, her voice husky with fatigue. “Gabe?” It was only the second time she’d spoken his name since he’d found her.
    “Yes, sweetheart?”
    “What were you doing up at Domaine Chandon?”
    “Pit stop. They have nice bathrooms.”
    Eva laughed. “Do you still need to go?”
    “Eventually. What were you doing there?”
    “Visiting the ducks.”
    “Oh. Well, it’s a nice day for that.”
    “Yeah,” she said quietly, “It’s a nice day for that.”
     
    Gabe lay beside Eva feeling the regular rise and fall of her chest against his. Her breathing was soft and even. He was a little concerned about the possibility of a concussion, especially since she’d fallen asleep so quickly. He reminded himself that the forehead was the thickest part of the skull, so she was probably all right, just shaken up. Like she said, she apparently hadn’t slept much after his phone call.
    This was the first time in Gabe’s entire adult life that he’d removed a woman’s clothes without making love to her, especially a woman he wanted so urgently. If Eva hadn’t been unaware, he couldn’t have faced her, not with the obvious bulge in the front of his jeans, but she’d been pretty out of it and she didn’t utter a single word of protest when he’d pulled her clothes off. The sight of her round, high breasts, tipped with taut, pink nipples, had nearly done him in. Jesus, it was pure torture not to touch her any more than necessary. Her bike shorts were sticky and he’d had to turn her around to get them down. Eva had the sweetest little rounded ass he’d ever seen on a woman. It took every ounce of self-control he could muster not to rub his swollen cock against her. When he’d pulled up her boxers, he’d inadvertently brushed his fingers against the soft, dark red hair of her pussy. Christ, he’d thought he might explode. Between the sight of her, the touch of her silky skin, and the scent of her—blood, sweat, musk—Gabe didn’t know how he would get through the night, yet there was no way in hell he’d leave her alone. If necessary, he’d spend tomorrow with her too. She was his little chef. He wanted to make sure she’d be okay.
    Gabe had to take a piss, but he decided to wait until Eva fell into a deeper sleep, and he didn’t want to remove the ice bag from her forehead just yet. He wondered if it was even going to be possible with his hard-on. He nearly laughed when he thought about those commercials that said, if you experience an erection lasting more than four hours, see your doctor. Crap. He’d been uncomfortably erect since he’d laid eyes on her upturned rear-end in the parking lot. Gabe freed a hand and unzipped his jeans. He sighed with relief. Eva stirred momentarily. She murmured in her sleep and wrapped an arm around his waist, nestling deeper into his shoulder. Her hand was mere inches from the head of his swollen cock. Gabe shifted a little to give her more room. If this woman was going to touch him, by God, Gabe wanted her to know who she was touching and what. Besides, his self-control was hanging by a thread and he didn’t want to risk an accident. She might accidentally push him over the edge. Eva was vulnerable, but Gabe was no heel who took advantage of an injured woman, no matter how much he wanted her. No. If he was going to make love to her, when he made love to her, he wanted Eva awake, alert and responsive. Gabe tightened his arm around her shoulders. Whether she knew it or not, she would become a lot more than his little chef. Gabe groaned in anticipation. The food Eva prepared for him would be nothing compared to the taste of the woman herself.

Chapter Seven

     
    Eva woke just after sunset. Her eyes felt gritty and there was something cold and wet smashed against her cheek. For a few