It happened over and over, but the last thing I recalled was the sky outside turning from a deep, dark midnight blue to a pale, hazy gray as the sun began to rise. Now it looked to be high in the sky, and Rollie was no longer snuggled up against me. That dog was better than any stuffed animal I’d owned as a kid, and I’d owned a ton.
Gingerly easing myself up, I shifted around until my legs were hanging off the side of the mattress, and slowly rose to my feet. My whole body felt stiff and achy. There was no way I’d be able to change out of my nighty into something more suitable on my own, at least not until I took one of my pain pills and gave it time to kick in. With no other choice, I moved to West’s closet and pulled the door open, spotting a long-sleeved flannel draped over one of the hangers. I pulled it off, noticing it felt soft from a million washes, and lifted it to my nose, pulling the scent of West into my lungs.
Once I had that on, the two middle buttons done up to provide a hint of modesty, I went to the bathroom to do my business before shuffling out of the room like an eighty-year-old with arthritis in every single one of my joints.
The sight that greeted me when I cleared the hallway was one that made my mouth dry and my panties wet. West stood in his kitchen, dressed in nothing but a pair of loose gray sweats that hung deliciously off his hips, flipping something in a pan on his stove.
His back was to me, giving me a perfect view of the wide, broad muscles of his back and his tight, perfectly rounded ass beneath the thin cotton of his pants. I hadn’t even gotten a look at his front yet, but I already knew it was going to be perfection.
“As soon as you’re done objectifying me, grab a stool and make yourself comfortable. Breakfast is almost ready.”
“How did you—” I started, my mouth gaping open. Then I stopped myself. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot you’re a freaking Jedi or something. What time is it?”
“Quarter after ten.”
My eyes bugged out. “Really? Wow, can’t remember the last time I slept this late.”
“Clearly, you needed it.” He turned around and shot me a wink over his shoulder before catching sight of what I was wearing. Then it was his turn to gape.
I felt myself blush under the steady, unhurried perusal he gave me, starting at my feet and slowly moving up my bare legs before finally resting on my face. “Hope you don’t mind,” I said, plucking at the flannel near my shoulder. “I didn’t have a robe, and I hurt too bad to change at the moment.”
“Not at all,” he said huskily, his amber gaze darkening. “In fact, keep it. Looks a whole hell of a lot better on you than it ever did on me.”
I seriously doubted that. From where I was standing, I could just imagine what it looked like stretched across all those sexy-as-fuck muscles. That blush in my cheeks got even worse. “Um, thanks.”
“Have a seat,” he said, pointing the spatula at the stool across the island from him. “I already set out one of your pills. What do you want to drink? I’ve got water, coffee, and OJ.”
I started to round the island instead of heading for the stool, insisting, “I can do it.”
He blocked my path to the fridge with the spatula arm, the severe, authoritative look on his face nearly making me laugh. “I said sit. I’ll get it. Now give me your order and go relax.”
“Coffee,” I said on a thankful sigh. “Definitely coffee. But maybe water for the pills?”
“On it.” He went for the coffeemaker as I lifted myself up on a stool and filled a mug with that delectable caffeine goodness. He lifted the full mug at me. “How do you take it?”
“Milk and sugar,” I answered.
He pulled the carton out of the fridge, unscrewed the lid, and started to pour. “Say when.”
I counted to three Mississippi and said, “When.”
He spooned a scoop of sugar into the mug before sliding it across the island to me and moving back to fill a glass of water, placing it on the counter next to the tablet he’d already set out for me.
“Thank you,” I said with a soft smile, lifting the pill to my lips and downing it before moving on to the coffee and taking that first fortifying sip, accidentally clinking the ceramic against my wrist brace “So, you cook, huh?”
“That surprise you too?” He shot me another wink over his shoulder, and a tremor worked its way through me at the sight of it. God, the man really was gorgeous.
I didn’t bother denying it. I gave him a cheeky grin, replying, “Maybe a little.”
“Hmm. Well don’t be too impressed. My skills are a bit limited. I can handle the basics, but that’s about it.”
“That’s more than I can do. My family doesn’t even let me in the kitchen anymore, that’s how bad I am. So what are you making?”
“You like bacon?”
I gave him a wry look. “Is there anyone on the planet who doesn’t?”
His back shook on a chuckle. “I’m sure one or two people.”
I sucked back more coffee, already feeling more alive than when I first came out here. “Well, I don’t want to know those people.”
“We’re having bacon, scrambled eggs, and pancakes.” My stomach growled at that, letting everyone in a one-mile radius know how much I liked the sound.
“Take it that sounds good to you?” he asked as he turned around with a loaded plate in hand. But despite how good it smelled, the food wasn’t what caught my attention just then.
“Oh, yeah,” I breathed as my gaze danced across his chest and abs. I’d been right in my earlier assumption. The front was even better than the back. His pecs stood out, proud and strong. Each abdominal looked like it was etched from stone, all eight—yes, eight—flexing and pointing like a freaking arrow to those Adonis muscles at his hips. My mouth suddenly started to water, and again, it had nothing to do with the damn food.
The sound of West clearing his throat pulled me out of my daze. I blinked away the fog and ripped my gaze from that sheer gloriousness up to his gorgeous face. He was smirking, having caught my bald-faced eye-fucking.
“Sorry, what?”
A laugh rumbled up his naked, God-like chest as he slid the plate across the counter and in front of me. “I asked if you wanted butter and syrup for the pancakes.”
“Oh, uh, yeah. No, sure. Yes please.”
He turned around to move to the pantry, and I was able to shake my head and get myself back to rights—sort of. He returned a second later with butter and syrup, and I dug in, devouring my food like it was my first meal in weeks.
I let out a moan once I finished, running my finger through a bit of the syrup left on the plate and sucking it off my finger. “That was so good. Thank you.”
When I opened my eyes and turned my attention back to him, he was staring at my mouth the same way I’d just looked at the food he made or his chest, like he was starving.
The air between us suddenly felt thick and humid, electricity sparking between our gazes in a way that made me very aware of the lack of clothing on both of us. “West?” I didn’t mean for my voice to be so breathy and quiet, but this man did things to me that defied all logic.
He blinked, as though coming out of a trance. “Yeah?”
What did I want to say?