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The man had girth and length and knew how to use both.
Twinges between my thighs reminded me of how thoroughly he’d wrecked me—even slowly, he’d tortured me, wringing every last shudder possible from my body.
He’d woken me during the night and slid into me again, groaning something about coming home.
My heart skipped a beat at the memory, and I shifted away from his heavy arm. Cum leaked down the inside of my leg as I stood, but I ignored it and grabbed up his shirt he’d worn the night before.
Pressed against my nose, the cotton gave off the scent of the skin it had clung to, the deliciousness I’d had wrapped myself in all night long.
My mouth watered, and I tugged it over my much smaller torso, leaving it unbuttoned.
A quick trip to the bathroom, and I shuffled on quiet feet into the kitchen to see what kind of man Leo really was.
My smile stretched when I opened the fridge to find it fully stocked. Either he enjoyed cooking or had prepared for my stay as though he knew me more thoroughly than possible after a few days.
Eggs, fresh veggies, bacon, a loaf of whole grain bread—the same staples I kept wherever I lived since I loved to cook and bake.
Humming tunelessly under my breath, I poked around Leo’s kitchen until I found everything I needed to make him breakfast in bed.
Bacon sizzled in one pan, a pile of veggies sauteing in another as I scrambled eggs to mix in with them.
I wondered over my sister and Josh, if they’d woken up feeling as happy as I had. Probably even more so since they had the assurance of a solid future.
Leo and I had made one hell of a step forward after our dinner the night before. An emotional one with the all-out fuck fest of nonstop orgasms I’d hoped for in his bed. He was one hell of a lover, the most unselfish man I’d ever met.
It was like giving me pleasure had fulfilled him, had been his end game on our winding road of lovemaking all night long.
Lovemaking.
I chewed over the words, knowing it was way too soon, but it seemed the right explanation of what had begun between us even if the sex had bordered on deliciously painful fucking.
Too good to be true, or just plain damn perfect for me?
I’d enjoyed every aspect of him I’d come into contact with—his solemnness, his goofy teasing, the heat of want in his eyes, the sure touches of his fingers on my skin, the way he pulled on my hair…
The rumble in his voice when he called me a good girl.
I shivered, the hairs lifting on the nape of my neck. My breath snagged, heartbeat sped up.
Turning, I found Leo leaning against the kitchen doorjamb, cotton pants hanging low on his hips, arms crossed over his bare chest.
I gulped.
How? How the hell did he take me from forward wild woman to a needy, panting mess with one smoldering look?
He grinned while sliding his gaze down over me and his dress shirt gaping along the front of my naked body. “Morning.”
“Hey,” I squeaked out, suddenly realizing I clenched the fork I’d been scrambling the eggs with. But how long ago had I paused and stood staring at the kitchen wall before feeling his presence behind me?
Heat flooded my cheeks as he straightened and closed the distance between us.
“I didn’t take you for the domestic type,” he murmured, glancing toward the stove and back to my face, his hazel eyes filling with what seemed like satisfaction.
Rarely did I get flustered and tongue-tied, but as Leo stepped in close, I tipped my head back, my mind blank.
He took the bowl of eggs from me, set them onto the counter to my right, then crowded against me like he owned the air between us.
Arousal, hot and heavy, throbbed between my thighs as he wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my hair. “You look good in my shirt…in my kitchen.” He half growled the words, lifting me until I wound my legs around his waist.
