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And she didn’t just want any man. Only the one lying six inches away, his chest rising and falling with the gentle rhythm of sleep. Copper was strong. Tough enough to swing at whatever curveballs life threw his way and smash them out of the park.
She sighed. How had what started out as her gawking at his sexy tattooed body turned into such a maudlin reflection on her existence?
Well, lying there for the next few hours was pointless. Might as well get up and make a hearty breakfast for her and Copper to share before she had to run off to work. Without a sound, she slid out of bed, shivering as her toes hit the cold wooden floor. She shoved her feet in the slippers that lived next to her bed then went in search of her clothes. At least, that was the plan until she spotted Copper’s T-shirt dangling from the edge of her bed. Wearing the oversized cotton tee that had been absorbing Copper’s essence all night seemed like a much better option.
She slipped it over her head then padded into the kitchen, flicking on lights as she passed. Copper was a fan of waffles in the morning, and she had a fantastic buttermilk waffle recipe handed down from her grandmother. One of the few things she actually received from her mom.
And she had a waffle iron…somewhere. Shell stood in the center of the kitchen, scratching her head. During her last attack of organization, she’d stowed the thing in a perfectly logical spot so the next time she needed it, it’d be accessible… right?
That showed just how often she whipped up breakfast. Working at a diner kinda squashed the desire to cook in the morning. She spun on one heel. Was it in the pantry? The low cabinet with the pots and pans? Maybe up high…
It hit her then…she’d stashed it pretty much in the highest spot in the kitchen. Of course. Being five-two on a good day, she couldn’t reach the fourth shelf of her cabinets if her life depended on it. Luckily, she had a lifetime of practice scaling countertops.
With a small grunt, she hefted herself up onto the counter. If only she could recall which cabinet she’d stuck the damn thing in. Starting closest to her sink, she pulled the door open and rose onto her tiptoes. Even with the extra few inches, she had a hard time seeing onto the top shelf, so she reached her hand in. A serving bowl…a table cloth…oh that vanilla cupcake candle she’d been looking for. But no waffle iron.
“Come on, where the hell are you hiding?” she murmured as she closed the cabinet and moved on to the next. “Are you in here?” She ran her hand along the top shelf, smacking into a small appliance. “Ah ha! Victory.”
“Now that is a damn pretty sight to see first thing in the morning.”
Shell shrieked and wrenched her neck looking over her shoulder. Still stretching to reach the top cabinet, her jaw dropped. Holy shit, Copper stood in the doorway, arms folded across his inked chest and shoulder resting against the door frame. Besides the ink, he only wore a beard and a sexy smirk. Lordy, that was one impressive naked man.
“Hi,” she squeaked as she started to lower her heels.
One eyebrow slowly crept up his forehead as the gleam in his eye grew predatory. He unfolded his arms and prowled forward.
She started to lower her arm.
“Nu-uh,” he said with a shake of his head. “Stay just like that. You have any idea how fucking edible this ass looks peeking out the bottom of my shirt?”
It was then she realized standing on her toes with an extended arm had caused the borrowed shirt to ride high on her ass. Copper had an up close and personal view of her uncovered butt. Which, if the expression on his face was any indication, he quite enjoyed.
“Come down off your toes, but leave your arms up. Face the cabinet,” he said from right behind her.
She lowered to completely flat feet raised her second hand to the shelf, gripping it for support. He had something up his non-existent sleeve, and it would no doubt involve an orgasm or two for her. Hopefully, she wouldn’t rip the damn cabinet right off the wall.
“Wh-what are you going do to?” A tremor of excitement raced down her spine. Not being able to see him or feel him sent the thrill of anticipation through the roof.
“Whatever the fuck I want. Got any objections?” His tone was harsh, the words practically growled.
“N-no, no objections.” Who did that breathy, sultry voice belong to?
The next thing she knew, two huge hands cupped her ass. Shell groaned and let her head fall forward. His hands were warm, and her ass filled them to capacity. He squeezed, kneading the soft flesh until wetness began to ease from her core.
