CHAPTER SEVENTY - BEAUTIFUL DREAMER

MARIA

My gaze buried deep into the swirling of the coffee i had in my hands and i could swear it reflected right in my pupils, perhaps that was what Marc looked at. 

He pulled away as the smell drifted past my nose with the heat and i smiled. The smell of sweet, fresh coffee. 

That was underrated and the sight of a sexy man in an apron too. 

I bit my lip as he stole a kiss, juggling the pan in his hands which held the pancakes before dishing them unto the plates. 

He glided his hips stiffly from each sides to the sound of a latin music as maybe a way to impress me. 

But he already did. And i wish I could tell him, there was no need, Marc. 

But God, i loved his moves. And his hair and his food. 

I loved him-

And the hot coffee in my hands.