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Kindred spirits.
The words whisper through my mind. Perhaps we are. Whatever this connection is between us, it’s potent.
The front door opening and closing pulls me from my thoughts.
“Breakfast is served!” Fletcher calls.
I carefully replace the picture frame and skip down the stairs with a grin. Entering the kitchen, I see Fletcher emptying a carrier bag of food onto the counter. His black T-shirt stretches over the muscles of his wide shoulders and broad back. His arse is a thing of beauty in his jeans, making my fingers itch with the need to touch. Squeeze.
He turns to look at me, and all the air whooshes from my lungs as our eyes connect. “Morning, beautiful.”
“Morning,” I squeak, suddenly excruciatingly shy.
Fletcher grins as he moves toward me, tugging me into his arms and dipping his head to mine. His kiss is firm, hot, and deep as he licks his tongue into my mouth. I moan and clutch at him, digging my fingers into the hard muscles of his shoulders. God, he tastes amazing. Better than chocolate, and I consider myself something of a connoisseur.
When he finally pulls away, I’m breathing heavily and can’t remember my name.
He chuckles. “Grace.”
I look at him blankly. “Huh?”
“You said you couldn’t remember your name.”
“I said that out loud?”
He nibbles the sensitive spot behind my ear. “Yep.”
A delicious smell reaches my nose, and my stomach chooses that moment to rumble loudly, reminding me we didn’t eat last night.
“Let’s get you fed,” Fletch says, pinching my arse before moving back to the counter.
Together we get the food laid out on the dining table, and it’s clear that Fletcher has spared no expense with breakfast. Croissants, pain-au-chocolat, fresh fruit, bacon, fried egg rolls with tomato ketchup, and freshly brewed coffee from the local café.
Fletcher sits at the table, and I take the chair next to him, only to be stopped short and hauled onto his lap.
“Right here is fine,” he mutters, and the possessiveness in his tone makes my stomach flip.
“I’ll hurt your leg,” I say, concerned but secretly loving being this close to him.
He smirks and moves his hips against my arse. “It’s not my leg that’s aching, sweetheart.”
“Oh? What’s hurting?” I ask innocently. “Want me to rub it better?”
Fletcher groans and thrusts his hips again, grinding his hard length against my backside. His arms circle me as he reaches for a strawberry and holds it to my lips. “Open wide.”
I moan as the fruit bursts on my tongue and juice trails down my chin. Before I can wipe it, Fletch is there, licking it clean with his tongue. My cheeks flush, and my core clenches at the unexpectedly erotic act.
“You’re spoiling me,” I say breathlessly.
He leans in to kiss me softly. “Gotta look after my woman.”
His woman?My heart melts. “Does that make you my man?”
He quirks a dark blond eyebrow. “You really need me to answer that after last night? And this morning?”
I tip my head to the side, pretending to think. “I’m not sure. You did grunt and groan a lot. Especially when I licked your—”
Fletcher’s mouth cuts me off. He tunnels his hands into my hair and holds my head where he wants me so he can kiss me hard and deep.
