“Tell you what,” I started, wanting to see her smile, wanting that light back in those gray-green eyes. “How about we make this morning’s meal kind of a cooking lesson? That way, it’s not just me making breakfast.”
She seemed skeptical for a moment before finally smiling. “You sure? My mom gave up a long time ago, and she’s got the patience of a saint.”
I leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I can handle it.” I’d survived war zones for Christ’s sake. This would be a piece of cake.
Twenty-Three
West
I might have spoken too soon. I glanced into the bowl she’d cracked the eggs into, and it had taken more effort than it should have to keep from curling my top lip.
“Baby, there’s more shell than egg in here.”
“It’s not my fault,” she cried vehemently. “There’s something wrong with your eggs. The shells were unnaturally thin.”
There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with the eggs, but I decided keeping that to myself was the best option, given that I’d like to see her naked again in the very near future.
“All right. Why don’t we try this again?” Taking the bowl, I dumped the contents into the sink, rinsed it out, and placed it back in front of her. “This time, tap the egg against the lip of the bowl with a little less force.”
She took an egg from the carton and proceeded to bash it against the rim like it owed her money, and she wanted to show it she was not to be fucked with. I did my best to maintain a neutral expression as I handed her a second one. “This time, even gentler.”
She inhaled deeply, psyching herself up. This time, she managed not to obliterate the egg, but the shell didn’t crack all the way through.
“That’s better. Now use your fingernail to split it the rest of the way and pry it open.”
The slimy contents plopped into the bowl without a piece of shell in sight, and Stella let out a whoop, spinning around to press a victorious kiss to my lips. She nailed it on the first try with the third and fourth eggs, so I left her to whisk while I carried the frying pan to the sink and dumped out the bricks of charcoal that I thought might have been bacon at some point.
Fortunately, the pan scrubbed out easy enough, so I didn’t have to add run by Target for a new pan to my list of things to do today.
I handled the stove side of things—not trusting the woman around an open flame any longer—and put her in charge of slicing some fruit after she assured me she wouldn’t lose an appendage if I gave her a knife.
The bacon was fried and sitting on a paper-towel covered plate, and I’d just finished scrambling the eggs when I turned from the stove and saw her swaying back and forth as she sliced a banana, humming along to some tune in her head.
My dick sprang to life behind my sweats as I lazily dragged my gaze up her long legs, the smooth, peaches-and-cream skin just as soft as it looked; I knew from personal experience. Christ, I wanted those legs wrapped around my waist. Or my head. I didn’t give a fuck which.
The shirt she was wearing, my shirt, made her look like a wet fucking dream. I’d had girlfriends in the past who liked to wear my shirts or hoodies, but I’d never had such a visceral reaction with them as I did seeing Stella wearing my beat-up, faded flannel.
My skin suddenly felt tight and hot, stretched across my clenched muscles as my whole body began to throb with need. Fuck, I was addicted to this woman, and if I didn’t sink my cock inside her in the next five seconds, my balls were going to explode.
Crossing the space between us, I pressed up against her and grabbed her hips, pulling her ass against my throbbing erection as I bent to drag my lips up the column of her neck.
The knife clattered against the counter as she pulled in a shaky breath. “W-what are you doing?”
“What’s it feel like to you?” I asked, driving my hips forward, rubbing my dick against her firm, round ass.
“But”—she swallowed audibly—“I thought you were hungry.”
A growl pulled from my chest. “Fucking starving.” I dragged my hand up her outer thighs, lifting the shirt as I went, only to encounter nothing but bare skin beneath. “Fuck me. You’re not wearing anything under my shirt?” I was hard enough to pound nails, but before I could fuck her, I needed to eat her.
“Nothing,” she breathed, dropping her head back against my shoulder.
Whipping her around, I pressed her back against the counter and ordered, “Grab hold of the edge and don’t let go,” as I dropped down to my knees in front of her.
“What are you doing?” she squeaked, holding on to the edge of the counter with a white-knuckled grip.
“Having my breakfast,” I rasped as I threw one of her legs over my shoulder. Then I buried my face in her pussy.
“Jesus. West,” she breathed, her lust-filled, husky voice driving me on. I stiffened my tongue and speared it into her, groaning as her arousal coated my tongue and slid down my throat. She tasted like sin mixed with the sweetest honey, and I couldn’t hold back. I devoured her, teasing her slit before sucking on her clit. She writhed against my face, her breaths coming hard and fast. “Yes, baby,” she panted, releasing the counter and gripping my hair so she could ride my face with abandon.
I opened my eyes and looked up her body. She was staring down at me, the curtain of her hair fanned down around her shoulders. Her gray-green eyes were hooded and dark with lust, her lips slightly parted. When that tongue peeked out to swipe across her bottom lip, I let out a growl and went at her harder.
“That’s it, West. Oh, God. I don’t think I can stay standing,” she moaned. “I’m gonna—” Her words cut off as her head fell back and her whole body tightened. Then she exploded, and I was right there, lapping up every single drop as the quakes slowly left her body.
Placing her foot back on the ground I rose to my full height, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Turn around, hands on the counter.”
She was still sucking in huge, gasping breaths as she turned on wobbly legs and braced herself on the cool stone of the island. Reaching around her, I grasped the front of the flannel where the buttons met and ripped it open, sliding it down her arms until I could toss it aside, leaving her completely bare before me. Jesus, she was the very definition of beauty.
Stella twisted to look back at me over her shoulder, arching her back just enough to pop her ass out, an open invitation for me to slide in deep, and one I had no intention of ignoring.
Pushing my sweats down far enough to free my cock, I gripped it at the base and bent my knees to line up with her opening. Then, in one hard thrust, I drove myself in to the hilt.
“West!” she shouted, throwing her head back and slapping the quartz beneath her palm.
“Need you,” I grunted, feeling beads of sweat already trickling down my spine. “And I don’t know if I can be gentle.”
“Don’t be,” she breathed, rocking back into me. “I want you to fuck me.”
I had to clench my teeth together to keep from rutting into her like a wild fucking animal. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her in any way, and I was worried that if I took her how I wanted, her ribs would pay the price.