“Was there a priest there? I mean …”
I chuckled. “No, it was empty. My turn. Truth or dare?”
She blinked and shook her head. “Ah … okay. Dare.”
I raised an eyebrow and turned flipped the chicken. “Not feeling like sharing today, huh?”
She gave me a look. “All right, bossy. Truth.”
“Too late.” I grabbed a wooden spoon and handed it to her. “Sing me happy birthday like Marilyn Monroe.”
Maggie laughed as she stood and made her way over to me. “Dammit, Cooper.” She snatched the spoon and tried to stop giggling as she bent over, exaggerating the pucker in her lips, breathing the words as she stepped closer and ran her hands up my chest.
“…Happy birthday, Mr. Sexypants.” Her hands slipped lower, trailing between my legs. “Happy birthday to you.”
Her face was tilted up to mine, and I smiled as I pressed my lips to hers. Her body was flush against mine, the thin fabric of the apron all that separated me from her naked breasts.
I broke the kiss while I could, taking the spoon and popping her bare ass with it. She squealed and giggled, and it was the most glorious sound I’d ever heard.
“Truth or dare?” she asked.
I watched her ass as she made her way back to her wine. “Dare.”
She pointed to the drawer where the aprons were. “If I have to be Venus, you’ll have to be David.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you I had it.”
She smiled.
I made a show of taking off my clothes, tossing my shirt in her face as she cheered and cat-called me. I tied the apron and held up my hands in display.
“Give us a spin,” she said slyly.
I spun around and smiled.
“Now, flip the chicken.”
“You want me to touch the breasts while you watch?”
“Give them a good fondling. They need to be hot before we eat them.” Her brow was up as she took a sip of her wine.
I laughed and made lewd noises while I poked at the chicken, knowing she was staring at my naked ass.
“All right,” I said when the show was over. “Truth or dare?”
She hesitated before answering, “Truth.”
I thought carefully, turning to lean on the counter again. Her eyes fell between my legs at David’s cock, and she giggled.
“I don’t know if I can take you seriously in that.”
I didn’t miss a beat. “What would it take for you to date me?” I threw the question at her knowing full well I’d catch her off guard.
Her smile fell. “Cooper …”
I shot her The Smile. “Don’t wimp out on me now, Williams.”
But her face was tight, unamused. “All right. It would take a time machine, a peace treaty with my brother, and proof that you were serious about something. Anything. Truth or dare?” she shot, closing the conversation.
I nodded and wet my lips, letting it go like I knew I should, even though I wouldn’t forget it so easily. I turned and took the chicken off the grill. “Truth.”
“What’s your deepest, darkest secret?” The question was pointed, and I turned to look at her.
You. I raised an eyebrow. “Wow, this escalated quickly.”
“You started it.” She took a sip of her wine.
I pushed off from the counter, part of me not believing what I was about to do. But she’d asked, and I found that as nervous as it made me to answer, I wanted her to know. “Come here and I’ll show you.” I extended a hand.
Her eyes widened as she took it and slipped off the stool. “Why am I a little scared?”
I chuckled and dragged her through my apartment to the door of my nerd sanctuary. I leaned against the wall, feeling more than a little scared myself. But I wanted her to know everything about me. I wanted to share all of myself with her simply because it felt good to do it.
“Go ahead. Open it.”
She clasped her hands in front of her, fingers threading together. She looked tentative, eyeing the door with uncertainty. “If there are whips and chains and butt plugs in there, I’m probably going to freak out.”
I smiled. “Just open it, Mags.”
She took a breath and turned the handle, gasping when she saw what was inside. “Oh, my God.” She spun around, gaping. “Are you for real?”
I wasn’t sure if her reaction was good or bad, but I stepped into the room and around her to explain. “I’ve been collecting ever since I was a kid, obsessively, really. I’ve just always loved comics and sci-fi, my dad too. You should see his collection.”
“Holy shit,” she breathed and wandered around the room, awestruck, stopping in front of my The Empire Strikes Back movie poster. “How do you have Stephen Spielberg’s autograph?”
I relaxed, smiling at the wonder on her face. “My dad’s firm manages his finances.”
“This is amazing, Cooper.” She moved to the shelves. “First edition Harry Potter … are these signed too?”
“They are. They were the first novels I ever read.”
She blinked. “I think I just had a bookgasm.” She reached for one. “May I?”
I nodded, and she pulled out the first book reverently, opening it to the inscription.
“Wow,” she breathed. “You are officially the most hardcore geek I’ve ever met.”
I laughed, relieved, feeling the unfamiliar comfort of sharing myself with someone else. Someone I trusted. “Now you know my deepest, darkest secret.”
She set the book back down and turned to me, her eyes soft. “No one knows?”
I shook my head.
“Not even West? How were you able to hide … this?” She motioned to the room.
“He knows a little. I’ve always collected comics, but he doesn’t know how serious it is.”
“Yeah, because this is pretty fucking serious, Coop.” She smiled, wandering past me and over to the Batman costume.
My eyes were glued to the apron string that swayed back and forth as she walked. She turned to me, and my eyes snapped up to hers.
She shook her head, smiling. “Please tell me you’re not actually Batman.”
I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. “No, I’m not actually Batman.”
She leaned back into me. “Is it from a movie? You didn’t have it made, did you?”
I paused. “Maybe.”
“For Halloween?”
“ComicCon.”
A laugh bubbled out of her. “Put it on.”
“Can’t. We need one more person to assist.”
She laughed even harder. “I bet you look amazing in it.”
“I do. Have I scared you off yet?”
She turned in my arms. “Um, no — one look at the Harry Potter books has me seriously hot and bothered.”
“Just wait until I show you my Tolkien collection.”
She smiled, lips parted as she angled her face to mine. There were maybe two millimeters of slinky fabric between us, and I could feel the warmth of her body just on the other side. When I brought my lips to hers, she wrapped herself around me and tightened her arms until I was as close as I could be.
My hands roamed down her back and to her bare ass. I squeezed, and she laid her hands on my chest, pushing gently, moving us back to the only piece of furniture in the room, my black leather recliner. The backs of my knees hit the seat, and I sat down, but she didn’t follow right away, just stood in front of me, smiling. My hands were on her hips, fingers on bare skin.
She touched my face as my hand moved down her thighs and under the apron, trailed up the inside of her thigh and between her legs to cup her, squeeze her. My middle finger rested against the line of her, and I ran the pad down the length before slipping inside. She leaned into me, eyes closed, her face soft and relaxed as I stroked her.
Her arms rested on my shoulders, and she bent down to kiss me, a slow kiss, a heady kiss. She slipped a knee next to me, and I leaned back as she climbed onto my lap, reaching behind her to pull the apron string with a zip. I yanked it off and tossed it, her curly hair bouncing as it passed through the neck. Her hand skated down my stomach to the hem of my apron, her eyes down as she moved it out of her way and wrapped her fingers around my base, lifting me. She licked her lips as her hips rose, and I watched her lower her body onto me with a sigh. Our bodies met in a seam, no space between us, her hands on my chest, arms pushing her breasts together. The sight of her naked body straddling mine, her hair in her face, her hands on my chest as she rocked gently — I committed the moment to memory.