Page 36 of North’s Claim

North smirks. “We’re all having breakfast at the BB today.”

I blink. “Wait, all of us?”

He nods, stepping toward the coffee machine like he didn’t just wreck me on the counter.

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Can I bring the pancake batter and make them there?”

He gives me that look. The one that’s half amusement, half growl. “You’re home, Nyxa. If you want to bake, cook, grill steaks or flip pancakes for the whole damn hood, do it. You wanna stay and just watch, that’s okay too.”

And just like that, something warm and real blooms in my chest.

Like maybe I really am home. Still breathless, I stare at him in disbelief. “You’re insane.”

“You’re welcome.”

I blink back the sting of tears, smiling like a fool. “Thank you.”

He growls, eyes flicking to the tent in his boxers. “And now I’m fucking hard again.” He stalks off down the hallway toward the shower.

“Need help with that?” I call.

He flashes me a look over his shoulder that damn near buckles my knees. “You’re the one who caused it. But if you join me, we might stay in all day. And we can’t.”

With a dramatic sigh, he disappears around the corner.

Still giddy, I toss in a few more eggs and double the batter. After wiping down the kitchen, I carry the laundry to the bedroom and start straightening up.

I pause at the dresser. My fingers brush the soft cotton of a floral sundress I haven’t dared wear since… well, Vero bought it.

It’s pretty. Maybe too pretty. I hesitate, suddenly unsure.

Would he like it? Or would he laugh? I leave it on the bed and tiptoe down the hallway.

I knock lightly, then open the door.

The sight steals my breath.

North stands in the shower, one hand wrapped around his cock, head tipped back, muscles taut. He’s jerking off, and fuck, it’s a sight.

I don’t move. Just lean against the counter like he did last night. Letting my gaze roam. Shit, I have to clench my thighs. I’m a mess.

He notices me the second he steps out of the shower. Our eyes meet, and he grabs a towel, wrapping it low on his hips, water still glistening on his skin.

“Well, well…” he says, voice low and teasing. “Enjoying the view?”

“I figured fair’s fair,” I reply, biting back a grin.

His smile spreads, slow and dangerous. “You’ll kill me, Firefly.”

I pick up the gauze and antiseptic from the counter. “Let me help with that bandage.”

He nods and we move in the bedroom, watching me closely. I clean the area carefully, biting my lip to keep from staring too long at the V of his hips.

“What’s the dress for?” he asks, nodding to it.

“I thought maybe… for breakfast?”

“You worried I won’t like it?”