Walking into the kitchen, I stop and stare as Miguel makes me breakfast, completely oblivious that I'm in the vicinity. He hums along to the music playing, his bare back flexing as he moves from one place to the other, his hair in a bun. My eyes lock on the angel tattoo on his shoulder blade and my thighs clench together.I'd licked that tattoo and all the others. After the first time, Miguel had fed me some of my Chinese food, because halfway, I'd managed to convince him that I wasn't hungry for food but something else. To his credit, he tried to be a gentleman and decline but in the end, he couldn't win against me. After that he'd made me a warm bath and tried to move me out of the bed but I wanted to sleep. With him spooning me of course. He didn't say no. And then because he was a morning person and I wasn't, he'd gotten up first, showered and then lovingly tried to get me out of bed. It was a struggle to finally convince me to sit in the tub this morning while he washed my hair
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