Atlas' POV
*****
The Beach house, 8:22 AM
As he stirred the bubbling pot of chicken sauce he was preparing, a smile stretched his lips despite himself.
Last night still felt like a fever dream. Every single second of it.
How he and the others went from playing a childish game to partaking in a heated sexual activity that his ancestors would probably frown upon was beyond even him.
And Celeste—
—Finally, they kissed.
Not just that.
He got to see her bare and vulnerable in ways he wouldn't have imagined a week ago.
Remembering the look in her eyes when she took him into her mouth made him bite his bottom lip. "You just keep changing me with every new trial."
Shaking his head, he pulled out the big spoon in the pot, patting some drops on his palm. One lick made him nod with satisfaction.
Perfection!
"What it needs now is some calming spices," he dusted his hands down his apron, searching for his phone.
