“You did this for me.” It’s not a question. She turns and looks at me with confusion and elation, all mixed together.
“Of course I did.”
“Why?” She shakes her head, then looks around again. “I mean, I’m grateful, and it looks amazing. It’s exactly what I wanted. But this must have taken you all night.”
“I was done by two,” I reply proudly. “And I did it because I knew you’d like it.”
And because it seems I’d do just about anything for this woman, but I’m not ready to tell her that. Not yet.
“Thank you,” she says, and walks into my arms, her head pressed to my chest, and hugs me tightly. “It’s so great.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Now I have the whole day free.” She kisses my chest, then pulls away, shuts the door of the pantry, gives it a grin, and moves to the fridge. “How do you want your eggs?”
“So you are making breakfast?”
“Yes, sir. I haven’t cooked for you. Eggs?”
“Scrambled.”
She nods and begins pulling ingredients out of the fridge. “Scrambled it is. I’m also going to make ham, potatoes, and toast.”
“That’s quite a feast.”
“It’s all part of a balanced breakfast,” she says with a wink. God, she’s sassy. Has she always been this sassy? This much fun? “Plus, you’ve earned it.”
“Have I earned a shower?”
“Definitely.” She keeps gathering supplies. “Go help yourself. This should be just about ready by the time you’re done.”
“I can stay and help.”
“I’m good. Go ahead.” She waves me off, already concentrating on the task at hand. “Oh, I have to feed you, little man.” She bends over to scratch Scoot behind his ears and he doesn’t even bat at her this time.
They’re making progress.
Before I leave to take my shower, I pull her into my arms and kiss her soundly. She melts against me, her hands planted on my arms. She kisses me back, as if I’m the best thing since sliced bread. Her tongue tangles with mine, and one of her hands glides up over my shoulder and into my hair at the back of my head.
I growl. She tastes amazing, and she feels even better. Her grip on my hair tightens. She clenches her fist, almost pulling my hair, and I can’t stand it. I boost her up onto the countertop and grind my now hard cock against her crotch, squeezing her ass and pulling her tightly against me. She groans and rotates her hips, pushing. I slip my hand under the shirt she’s still wearing from last night, skim up over her ribs, and cover her small breast with my palm, and squeeze gently. She covers my hand with hers and encourages me to squeeze harder.
Suddenly the smoke alarm goes off, startling us both, and we stare at each other for a moment as we breathe hard, both our mouths wet and swollen, her eyes are glassy.
I glance over at the stove. The pan she put on the burner to heat up is smoking.
“Oops,” she says, and giggles, twists out of my hold, and moves the pan. “Go get in the shower. I’m hungry.”
“I’m hungry too,” I reply, and her gaze meets mine again. She gives me a naughty grin, licks her lips, and winks. I can’t help but let out a laugh as I shake my head and leave the room.
I’ll make it a cold shower.
Chapter 7
~Cami~
“I love the Esplanade,” I say happily as Landon takes my hand and we begin walking down the paved path that loops around the waterfront of the Willamette River, giving us amazing views of the city.
“It’s a good day for a walk,” he says, smiling down at me. “Not raining.”
“Nope.” I look up at the blue sky, then fish in my purse for my sunglasses. “But it’s a little chilly.”
“We’ll warm up the more we walk,” he says.
“You know, we’ll be walking just about a block away from Voodoo Donuts,” I remind him with a grin.
“We just had a big breakfast.”
“Oh, come on, there’s always room for donuts,” I reply with a scoff. “When was the last time you had a Voodoo?”
“Oh God, it’s been a few years,” he says, and guides me to the side so we avoid a cyclist.
“Well, I say we stop in.” I pull him down the sidewalk toward the famous donut shop. “And look! No line.”
“That doesn’t happen often, especially on a Saturday morning.”
“See? Good luck.” I wink and lead him inside. “Smells good.”
“How can I possibly be hungry for this right now?” He stares longingly at a maple with bacon. He looks at me like that too. Usually he has his hands on me when he has that look on his face, and holy shit, does it make me crazy.
It was all I could do to not rip his pants off in my kitchen this morning.
“I’ll take one,” he says to the guy behind the counter, pointing at the donut, then he turns to me. “What would you like?”
“I’ll take one without the bacon,” I say. “You don’t have to put it in a bag. It won’t last that long.”
When we’re outside, I pull my phone out and take a photo of Landon biting into his ridiculously big donut, laughing at how his nose squishes up as he bites.
“If you post that anywhere, it’ll ruin my political career,” he says, his face perfectly sober.
“I’m sure there are other photos in existence that would do that more than you eating a donut,” I reply, and bite into my own treat. “Dear God, these are good.”