Page 85 of For the Love of Art

I set my mug down on the marble countertop. “So, I couldn’t help but notice my panties were missing this morning.”

“I thought they were a gift.” Nathan didn’t face me, but from his profile, I could see a small smile playing on his lips.

“It doesn’t bother you that my bare ass is on this stool?”

“It bothers me in the sense that now I’m hard.” He looked over his shoulder, a gleam in his eye.

Nathan pulled two plates from his cupboard and forks from a drawer, then began plating the eggs and bacon he’d made. He came around the counter and sat on the stool next to me, depositing the two plates of food.

“I know it’s pretty simple.” He picked up a strip of bacon and took a bite.

I picked up my fork and cut into the runny yolk. “Honestly, I figured this would play out like a bad billionaire romance where the cook comes out and asks what I want for breakfast.”

“I do have one,” Nathan said nonchalantly. “He just doesn’t work on weekends.”

“You have a–” I could barely form the words. I shook my head. “You live very differently from me.”

Nathan swallowed the food in his mouth. “Different doesn’t have to be bad. I think you’ll come to like Sven’s cooking.”

My heart fluttered. If Sven didn’t work weekends, that meant– “So, you’re thinking I’ll be here some weeknights and week mornings?”

Nathan smiled. “I sure fucking hope so.”

My stomach knotted, making it hard to eat my breakfast. Being around Nathan felt like a high school crush.

Once our plates were cleared of food, Nathan pressed a hand into my thigh. “Done eating?”

I swallowed the remainder of my coffee. “I am now.” I placed the mug on the counter.

“Good.” Nathan moved his hands on the side of my stool and tugged hard, pulling the chair closer to him. I squealed. His lips brushed against my neck, and I hummed. “I recall you saying there is nothing between you and this chair, and that thought has been haunting me all through breakfast.”

He caught my chin between his thumb and index finger. He used his other hand to slide up my thigh slowly. I whimpered under his gaze and touch. His lips pressed into mine as he made contact with my clit.

“You look good in my shirt,” Nathan murmured against my lips. “I should make this your uniform.”

I laughed breathily. “You’d certainly attract a new kind of clientele.”

Nathan nibbled my earlobe. “Hm. Maybe I don’t want that.”

His fingers slid between my folds. He groaned.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He hungrily captured my mouth again, and I moaned into the kiss as his fingers worked me.

I reached across and hitched my fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Fuck me,” I begged.

Nathan stood up, pulling me off my chair. He ripped the shirt I was wearing, causing the buttons to go flying.

“Oh my God!”

He growled as he cupped my breasts, taking each nipple in his mouth.

“Oh my God.” The three words turned from a cry to a prayer.

“Should we take this to the bedroom?” Nathan asked as his fingers once again explored my clit.

“What? Why?” I breathed.