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He checked her eggs. Almost ready. Fuck, he hoped his instinct was right. He hoped she hadn’t turned vegetarian or, fuck, vegan during their time apart.
He probably should have checked. If he’d gotten this wrong…he could improvise. Devise a plan B. And quickly, going by his history. But even if she had turned anti-animal products, the smell would coax her out, maybe from disgust rather than rapture. He could still work with that.
Light footfalls padded on the stairs.
Yeah, keep coming, baby. I got you. One day, hopefully soon, he could test that out in the bedroom, on the couch, bent over the kitchen bench.
Enough!
“Is that… Are you cooking…?”
“Bacon and eggs, yeah.” He put two slices of bread in the toaster.
She shifted closer to him. “I love… How did you…?”
“I remember a lot of things.”
“And my teenage number-one comfort food makes that list because…?”
He turned off the stovetop and stared into her eyes. She’d changed into a loose T-shirt and leggings and still looked fucking mouthwatering. “You interest me.”
She half laughed, half huffed. “Stop trying to screw with my head. Stop trying to act all nice and considerate to get me to talk.”
“I’m not acting.” Her toast popped up, slightly golden, the way she used to enjoy, and he put it on her plate. Using the spatula, he loaded her eggs on top and piled a serving of bacon off to the side.
Alexander held out her dinner. “I swear, I’m not dicking you around. Whatever I say I mean. It’s the God’s honest truth. You can trust me.”
Her trademark, squinty-eyed, dubious look said she didn’t know whether to, so he aimed to give her more proof, give her whatever she needed in every possible way. His cock really liked that idea.
She took the plate out of his hand and stared at the food, then her gaze met his with a sense of awe, astonishment. “This is perfect. Exactly how I like it.”
His mind went to town, flipping through an assortment of images with her saying those exact words in very different circumstances, naked circumstances—her riding his face and him licking her to ecstasy.
His dick slammed against his fly, desperate to play. Before she could see his inappropriate, excited response, he spun toward the toaster and slipped in three slices of bread.
She touched his forearm, her elegant fingers soft and warm on his skin. His heart rate cranked up to triple time. “Thank you. I really needed this tonight.” Pretty much confessing something bad had gone down during the day.
She left him to fill his plate, and he joined her at the dining table.
Sage took a bite of her bacon, closed her eyes and moaned. And oh fuck, did that reinvigorate his animalistic urges. “This is great.”
“Good.” His voice sounded rough and raspy. “Dig in.”
She cut into her toast and slathered some runny yolk across the top. “What did you do today?” Nice deflection. She glanced at him and popped the forkful into her mouth, sucking the remnants of egg off the metal tines. If reincarnation were real, he’d put in a request to come back as that fork.
Alexander got stuck into his meal. He had to distract himself somehow or risk throwing the table aside and gorging on her. “Meditated, went grocery shopping, got you a state-of-the-art security system. I’ll install it tomorrow.” Thought about Sage and how much he wanted her, how much he’d fucked up out of ignorance and fear. How much he needed to verify, to her and himself, he was good enough.
“What do I owe you?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Come on!”
“I want to do it. Let it go.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Do you want a beer or wine or something?” She went to stand.
“A beer. But stay there. I’ll get it.” He stood before she could protest. “What would you like?”
