once I got you out of that dress.”
She lifted her brows and gave him a haughty look. “You clearly have never lived in an apartment with a tiny kitchen or bathroom. Those are the two worst things to have small in any household. Right now, I am in love with this kitchen, and, if your bathroom is anything like this, I may try to buy this place from you.”
She sipped her wine and slid her finger over the pristine marble top of the kitchen island.
“What do I get if the bathroom is better?”
Her laughter was quick and filled him with pleasure. “I bet I can think of something.”
“Come on. Let’s get you some food before you start saying I’m an ungracious host trying to starve you.”
She grinned. “Has Jazz been talking about how I love food again?”
“Your Jazz is always talking, but no, I just want to know what you think of my food.”
“Oooh, I can’t wait.” She sat at the pre-set dining room table.
He’d been more careful than ever and had even gone as far as to call Max to find out what her preferences were. He’d never taken so much trouble to make a first impression on a first date with a woman he’d already been with. He picked his mother’s favorite china and got his housekeeper to fill a vase with pink peonies.
“I love these.” She caressed one of the flower petals with so much care you’d think it was a newborn. “They’re so pretty and different.”
Just like her. It finally dawned on him that while he’d been obsessing over what his ex-fiancée had done, Lucky hadn’t asked him how much money he made, what his net worth was, or anything related to his finances. She’d just been getting to know him.
Dinner started backward. It was his own fault—he’d put cookies in to bake while he’d handed her some wine.
“What is that smell?” She groaned. “Is that chocolate?”
He watched her eyes go wide.
“I’m baking cookies.”
“You’re what?”
He grinned. “For dessert.”
She visibly gulped. “What’s the rest of dessert?”
“Fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies with vanilla bean ice cream.”
She bit her lip and groaned. “OK, we’re going to have to eat that first. It sounds amazing, and I don’t think the smell will let me eat anything else right now.”
He grinned, pleased that she seemed so willing to eat whatever he made. “Aren’t you worried they’ll taste bad or be undercooked, overcooked, or something?”
She looked at him as though he’d said something stupid. “It’s chocolate. Chocolate is perfect in every way, shape, or form.”
Laughing all the way to the oven, he pulled the cookie tray out and put them on a cooling rack while he served the ice cream. He’d been told she loved cinnamon, so he sprinkled some over her ice cream and placed a fresh-baked cookie next to it. Topping the concoction with some whipped cream, which he couldn’t take the credit for because his housekeeper made it for him, he brought the dessert bowls to the table.
She licked her lips, her gaze stuck on the bowls with the ice cream.
“You sure you want to eat this before dinner?” he asked.
Her nod was so fast he couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that she was in his home. With him. Spending time together. She was moaning the moment a spoonful of ice cream and cookie went into her mouth.
“Oh God…this is…so…good!”
His cock jerked. Hell, his balls were aching from her moaning. He cleared his throat, hoping she’d get the hint that it was a cruel and unusual punishment for her to moan like she was getting ready to come, without him being able to do anything.
Her gaze lifted and met his. Arousal filled her brown eyes. “This is really good, but I know something that tastes even better.”
Holding the spoon dripping ice cream midway to his mouth, he stared at her. She licked the front of the spoon, running her tongue over the indentation and then circling around to the curved side.
“I find that hard to believe, with the way you’re
She lifted her brows and gave him a haughty look. “You clearly have never lived in an apartment with a tiny kitchen or bathroom. Those are the two worst things to have small in any household. Right now, I am in love with this kitchen, and, if your bathroom is anything like this, I may try to buy this place from you.”
She sipped her wine and slid her finger over the pristine marble top of the kitchen island.
“What do I get if the bathroom is better?”
Her laughter was quick and filled him with pleasure. “I bet I can think of something.”
“Come on. Let’s get you some food before you start saying I’m an ungracious host trying to starve you.”
She grinned. “Has Jazz been talking about how I love food again?”
“Your Jazz is always talking, but no, I just want to know what you think of my food.”
“Oooh, I can’t wait.” She sat at the pre-set dining room table.
He’d been more careful than ever and had even gone as far as to call Max to find out what her preferences were. He’d never taken so much trouble to make a first impression on a first date with a woman he’d already been with. He picked his mother’s favorite china and got his housekeeper to fill a vase with pink peonies.
“I love these.” She caressed one of the flower petals with so much care you’d think it was a newborn. “They’re so pretty and different.”
Just like her. It finally dawned on him that while he’d been obsessing over what his ex-fiancée had done, Lucky hadn’t asked him how much money he made, what his net worth was, or anything related to his finances. She’d just been getting to know him.
Dinner started backward. It was his own fault—he’d put cookies in to bake while he’d handed her some wine.
“What is that smell?” She groaned. “Is that chocolate?”
He watched her eyes go wide.
“I’m baking cookies.”
“You’re what?”
He grinned. “For dessert.”
She visibly gulped. “What’s the rest of dessert?”
“Fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies with vanilla bean ice cream.”
She bit her lip and groaned. “OK, we’re going to have to eat that first. It sounds amazing, and I don’t think the smell will let me eat anything else right now.”
He grinned, pleased that she seemed so willing to eat whatever he made. “Aren’t you worried they’ll taste bad or be undercooked, overcooked, or something?”
She looked at him as though he’d said something stupid. “It’s chocolate. Chocolate is perfect in every way, shape, or form.”
Laughing all the way to the oven, he pulled the cookie tray out and put them on a cooling rack while he served the ice cream. He’d been told she loved cinnamon, so he sprinkled some over her ice cream and placed a fresh-baked cookie next to it. Topping the concoction with some whipped cream, which he couldn’t take the credit for because his housekeeper made it for him, he brought the dessert bowls to the table.
She licked her lips, her gaze stuck on the bowls with the ice cream.
“You sure you want to eat this before dinner?” he asked.
Her nod was so fast he couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that she was in his home. With him. Spending time together. She was moaning the moment a spoonful of ice cream and cookie went into her mouth.
“Oh God…this is…so…good!”
His cock jerked. Hell, his balls were aching from her moaning. He cleared his throat, hoping she’d get the hint that it was a cruel and unusual punishment for her to moan like she was getting ready to come, without him being able to do anything.
Her gaze lifted and met his. Arousal filled her brown eyes. “This is really good, but I know something that tastes even better.”
Holding the spoon dripping ice cream midway to his mouth, he stared at her. She licked the front of the spoon, running her tongue over the indentation and then circling around to the curved side.
“I find that hard to believe, with the way you’re
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