feels like a lifetime.
She buries her fingers in my hair, and I slide my hands down her body. In an instant, I’m fully hard. She groans as my hand curls around her breast.
“What do you think?” I murmur against her mouth. “Should we finish what we began this morning?” My thumb glides across her nipple, and I feel it tighten into a hard bud beneath her shirt. “Shall I throw you down on this counter?”
Before she can respond, I drop my hands down to her hips and lift her up, setting her on the edge of the counter in front of me. Her legs wrap around me, pulling me against her as our mouths find each other again.
I take that as a yes , I think, sliding my tongue across hers.
I find the waistband of her leggings and slide my hands inside, running them across the soft, smooth skin of her ass. She bites down on my tongue, and I moan. She arches against me, her hips pressing against my arousal.
I’m going to eat you up. Every last bit of you.
I hear a growl escape me as I start to push her leggings lower. I have to partially lift her to get them over her ass, but I’m not ready to flip her over onto her stomach yet. Instead, I slip my hand between her legs, just like I did this morning. She’s already dripping wet again, and I smile against her lips as I slide a finger down through her wetness. It slips easily inside of her, and she bucks against my hand.
I move my finger slowly, in part to tease her and in part to gauge how tender she is at the moment. Honestly, after all the sex we’ve had, I’m feeling a little raw myself—but that pain only heightens the sensations I’m feeling. Nothing will keep me from joining with her again.
I add a second finger to the first, and this time she pulls her face away from mine. Her head falls back, and a soft, breathy cry escapes her lips. She writhes against me, her body showing me exactly what she wants.
I need to be inside of her. Now.
I start to lift her up, preparing to flip her over. My fingers are digging into the soft flesh of her perfect bottom when I hear a loud, sudden WHOOOOSH .
Elle stiffens. I lift my head, blinking dazedly at her.
Her eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen them. She shoves at my shoulder with one hand and tugs at her leggings with the other. “The onions!”
I’m still half-mad with desire as I lower her back to the counter and turn, but then I instantly go cold when I see what she means.
The pan with the onions has caught on fire.
Elle
N ot even stopping to think , I slide myself from the counter and duck under Leo’s arm. I rush to the stove, grab a lid from under the counter and throw it on top of the flaming pan. I pull the entire thing off the burner and turn off the heat. The fire goes out within a few seconds, but the acrid scent of burned onion hangs in the air.
I let this go too far—watching him try to cook was so damn hilarious I never thought about the very real possibility of him burning my house down. And that was before I lost control again. This incident only proves that things go straight to hell when I let my guard down for even a second.
Trying to curb at least a small amount of the ridiculous desire that takes over my body every time I’m around him, I pull my clothes back into place.
I try to smile—I have to cover this up somehow, and he seems to respond better to me at least faking happiness than he does the crappy uncertainty that has taken over again. “I think it might be best if I’m the only person cooking in this house. Unless you have a chef hidden in your suitcase or something.” Widening my phony smile, I try to cover the stabbing pain in my chest, knowing I need to shut this all down. There aren’t going to be any shared meals between us or anything else for that matter. This has to end—and it has to end now. It’s already gone way too far, and I’m the one who is going to suffer.
Leo walks over to me and touches a finger to my jaw. He tips my chin up, forcing my gaze to his. “I
She buries her fingers in my hair, and I slide my hands down her body. In an instant, I’m fully hard. She groans as my hand curls around her breast.
“What do you think?” I murmur against her mouth. “Should we finish what we began this morning?” My thumb glides across her nipple, and I feel it tighten into a hard bud beneath her shirt. “Shall I throw you down on this counter?”
Before she can respond, I drop my hands down to her hips and lift her up, setting her on the edge of the counter in front of me. Her legs wrap around me, pulling me against her as our mouths find each other again.
I take that as a yes , I think, sliding my tongue across hers.
I find the waistband of her leggings and slide my hands inside, running them across the soft, smooth skin of her ass. She bites down on my tongue, and I moan. She arches against me, her hips pressing against my arousal.
I’m going to eat you up. Every last bit of you.
I hear a growl escape me as I start to push her leggings lower. I have to partially lift her to get them over her ass, but I’m not ready to flip her over onto her stomach yet. Instead, I slip my hand between her legs, just like I did this morning. She’s already dripping wet again, and I smile against her lips as I slide a finger down through her wetness. It slips easily inside of her, and she bucks against my hand.
I move my finger slowly, in part to tease her and in part to gauge how tender she is at the moment. Honestly, after all the sex we’ve had, I’m feeling a little raw myself—but that pain only heightens the sensations I’m feeling. Nothing will keep me from joining with her again.
I add a second finger to the first, and this time she pulls her face away from mine. Her head falls back, and a soft, breathy cry escapes her lips. She writhes against me, her body showing me exactly what she wants.
I need to be inside of her. Now.
I start to lift her up, preparing to flip her over. My fingers are digging into the soft flesh of her perfect bottom when I hear a loud, sudden WHOOOOSH .
Elle stiffens. I lift my head, blinking dazedly at her.
Her eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen them. She shoves at my shoulder with one hand and tugs at her leggings with the other. “The onions!”
I’m still half-mad with desire as I lower her back to the counter and turn, but then I instantly go cold when I see what she means.
The pan with the onions has caught on fire.
Elle
N ot even stopping to think , I slide myself from the counter and duck under Leo’s arm. I rush to the stove, grab a lid from under the counter and throw it on top of the flaming pan. I pull the entire thing off the burner and turn off the heat. The fire goes out within a few seconds, but the acrid scent of burned onion hangs in the air.
I let this go too far—watching him try to cook was so damn hilarious I never thought about the very real possibility of him burning my house down. And that was before I lost control again. This incident only proves that things go straight to hell when I let my guard down for even a second.
Trying to curb at least a small amount of the ridiculous desire that takes over my body every time I’m around him, I pull my clothes back into place.
I try to smile—I have to cover this up somehow, and he seems to respond better to me at least faking happiness than he does the crappy uncertainty that has taken over again. “I think it might be best if I’m the only person cooking in this house. Unless you have a chef hidden in your suitcase or something.” Widening my phony smile, I try to cover the stabbing pain in my chest, knowing I need to shut this all down. There aren’t going to be any shared meals between us or anything else for that matter. This has to end—and it has to end now. It’s already gone way too far, and I’m the one who is going to suffer.
Leo walks over to me and touches a finger to my jaw. He tips my chin up, forcing my gaze to his. “I
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