Chapter 150
**Sara**
Tom returned a moment later, carrying a large pizza box filled with the mouthwatering aroma of melted cheese and tomato sauce.
"Oh my god, that smells amazing," I said, my stomach growling loudly.
He set the box on the coffee table and flipped it open. "Dig in. I hope you're hungry."
"Starving," I replied, grabbing a slice and taking a big bite. The cheese stretched comically as I pulled the pizza away from my mouth, and a glob of sauce dripped onto my chin.
He laughed, reaching out to wipe the sauce away with his thumb. "Classy."
I stuck my tongue out at him, my mouth full of pizza. "Shut up. I'm famished."
He grabbed a slice for himself, taking a more dignified bite. I rolled my eyes at his attempt to look sophisticated while eating pizza.
"Oh, please. It's just us here. You don't have to impress me with your fancy pizza-eating skills," I teased, deliberately taking an even messier bite.
He chuckled, a string of cheese hanging from his lips. "Who says I'm trying to impress you? Maybe this is just how I eat pizza."
"Oh yeah, I'm sure that's your go-to pizza-eating technique. Very sophisticated."
He grinned, deliberately slurping up the cheese strand in an exaggerated manner. "What can I say? I'm a man of culture."
"Clearly," I snorted, taking another bite of my slice. The pizza was heavenly - crispy crust, perfectly melted cheese, and just the right amount of sauce. I let out an involuntary moan of pleasure.
"Should I leave you two alone?"
I swatted at him playfully. "Don't judge me. This pizza is having a religious experience with my taste buds."
"Oh, is that what we're calling it now?" he teased.
I stuck my tongue out at him, which probably wasn't the most mature response, but I rode a cheese-induced high.
As I reached for my third slice (judge me, I dare you), a dollop of sauce escaped and landed squarely on my - well, Tom's - t-shirt. "Shit," I muttered, looking down at the red stain spreading across the white fabric.
He chuckled. "I thought I was the messy eater."
I shot him a glare. "This is your fault, you know. This wouldn't have happened if your shirt wasn't so big on me."
"Oh, now it's my fault that you're fit and adorable in my clothes?" he smirked.
I blushed at his compliment but refused to let him win this round. "Flattery won't work on me, mister. Now help me clean this up before it sets."
Tom got up and returned with a damp cloth. Instead of handing it to me, though, he knelt before me and started dabbing at the stain himself. I held my breath as his hand brushed against my chest, our earlier shower escapade flashing through my mind.
"You know," he said huskily, "I think this shirt might be a lost cause. Maybe you should just take it off."
I swallowed hard, my heart rate picking up. "Nice try, slick. But I recall someone saying they were too tired to cook earlier. Surely you don't have the energy for... other activities."
His eyes met mine, dark with desire. "I think I might have gotten my second wind."
Before I could respond, he leaned in and captured my lips in a searing kiss. I could taste the lingering flavors of tomato and basil on his tongue as it swept into my mouth.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing heavily. "For someone so concerned about taking things slow earlier, you sure are quick to jump my bones."
"What can I say? You bring out the worst in me."
"I think you mean the best," I quipped, nipping at his lower lip.
Tom's response was to kiss me again, deeper this time. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as our tongues danced. I melted into him, forgetting all about the pizza stain and our earlier conversation.
When we finally came up for air, Tom's eyes were dark with desire. "As much as I'm enjoying this, we must deal with that shirt before the stain sets."
Before I could protest, he gripped the t-shirt hem and swiftly tugged it over my head. I gasped as the cool air hit my bare skin, suddenly aware I wasn't wearing a bra.
His eyes raked my bare chest, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I think you should just stay like that. You're making quite a mess of my clothes. I'll need to clean this right away."
"Oh please, it's just a little pizza sauce. You can clean your precious T-shirt later. Let's finish this pizza first."
"Are you seriously suggesting we eat pizza while you're half-naked?"
I shrugged, reaching for another slice. "Why not? It's not like you haven't seen it all before. Besides, this way, I won't stain anymore of your clothes."
His eyes lingered on my chest briefly before he shook his head. "Alright, you win. But if you get any more sauce on you, you're on your own."
He plopped beside me on the couch, grabbing another slice. I felt smug, catching him stealing glances at me as we ate.
"You know," I said, licking some sauce off my finger, "I think I could get used to this whole topless pizza thing. It's very liberating."
"Please don't make this a habit. I don't think my heart could take it."
I grinned wickedly. "What's the matter? Can't handle a little skin?"
"Please. I've seen it all before, remember? And thoroughly enjoyed it, I might add."
"Care to refresh my memory on how much you enjoyed it?"
"Nice try, but I'm not falling for that. We have pizza to finish."
"Spoilsport," I pouted, reaching for another slice. "Fine, have it your way. But don't think I didn't catch you staring."
"I wasn't staring," he protested weakly. "I was... admiring the view."
I caught Tom glancing at me more than once, but I pretended not to notice. It was fun watching him squirm a little.
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