Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“So you cooked meals for everyone?”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but if I made something—like spaghetti or chili or whatever—I’d make a lot so everyone could have some. I also worked at a restaurant.”
“Oh that’s right. The one we passed last night?”
“Yes, the Pier Inn.”
“Maybe you’ll take me there for dinner while I’m here. A real date this time.” I watched him pour the eggs over the diced ham, red bell pepper, and onion in the skillet, then shake the pan to distribute everything more evenly.
He pretended to consider it. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“I’m working for you.” After running a spatula beneath the edges, he sprinkled on some cheese. “Wouldn’t be proper.”
I laughed. “Oh, now you’re working for me? I’ll take care of that—you’re fired.”
“You wouldn’t dare fire me now.”
“Why not?”
He shook pepper on top of the omelet. “Because you like me. Just like I said you would.”
I shook my head. “You’re a smug, conceited pain in the ass, and I can’t wait until I’m rid of you.”
He smiled and gave the pan another shake. “But first you want me to take you to dinner.”
“Only because I have no other prospects.” I paused and conceded, “And I do sort of like you.”
“Yeah?” He gave me a cocky, lopsided grin.
“Yeah. So will you take me to dinner?”
He carefully folded the omelet in half and then slid it onto a plate. “I’ll think about it.”
We ate breakfast sitting side by side at the kitchen counter, and I practically inhaled every single bite. Afterward, I told him I’d clean up since he’d done the cooking, but he wouldn’t let me do it alone. I loaded the dishwasher while he scrubbed the pans by hand, then I dried them and put them away while he wiped down the counters.
“So what’s the verdict?” he asked. “Are you impressed?”
“Totally. I have to admit, I didn’t quite believe you when you said you could cook, but that was delicious.” I wrapped my arms around his solid middle and rested my chin on his spine. Now that touching each other was okay, I couldn’t seem to stop. “Thank you.”
He rotated to face me and pulled me close. “What should we do today?”
“I don’t know. With this rain, it looks like we’re probably stuck inside.”
“What a shame.”
I smiled up at him. “I’ve got some ideas for how we might pass the time.”
“Such as?”
“We could play cards. Read books. Do some yoga. Watch a movie.”
He slipped his hands inside the sweatshirt I wore and rubbed the sides of my ribcage. “I have some ideas too.”
“Such as?”
“You could get naked. Sit on my face. Let me fuck you with my tongue.”
Arousal swooshed up my center, making my thighs tighten. “Is this before or after the movie?”
“How about during?”
“You know, for someone who was so against messing around with me, your ideas are very messy.”
“I know.” He fisted his hand in my hair and pulled my head to one side, fastening his mouth to my neck. His tongue tickled my throat as it traveled up to my ear, where he traced the shell. His beard rubbed against my jaw as he whispered, “I’ll clean it all up.”
I slid one hand between his legs, stroking the bulge in his jeans, excitement building in me as he thickened beneath my palm. His hands moved up to cover my breasts through my tank top. I hadn’t bothered with a bra, so my nipples poked through the thin cotton, and his thumbs teased them until they were hard and almost painfully sensitive. Desire radiated outward from those two little tips, setting fire to every nerve ending in my body. It amazed me how he could use such a small body part of his to create such a powerful feeling in me. My clit ached for his touch. My pulse quickened with anticipation. His mouth covered mine in a searing-hot kiss that made me pant and writhe and want to lie down right here, right now.
Throwing my arms around his neck, I tried to pull him down, but he only laughed. “You want me to fuck you on the kitchen floor? Is that it?”
“Yes.” And I was not above begging for it, but he didn’t make me.
Reaching beneath the bottom of his sweatshirt, he unbuttoned and unzipped my denim shorts, then yanked them down to my ankles. As soon as I kicked them aside, he grabbed me and set me on the counter. Pushed my knees apart. Growled with animalistic hunger. Buried his head between my thighs.
Then he used his tongue and lips and fingers to drive me all the way to the edge of the orgasm cliff like five fucking times without actually sending me over. Propped on my elbows, I watched him delight in tormenting me, sometimes with his eyes closed in sensual abandon, sometimes looking up at me with smoldering intensity, sometimes focused on his hand as he fucked me with his fingers, slowly and expertly, with toe-curling patience and skill.