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Amarok’s eyes moved over my figure, hot and slow, and heat blossomed on my cheeks.
The wetness between my thighs was obnoxious, but I wasn’t about to jump him. We’d spend all day in bed when the morning came around, after all.
“Want to make dessert? Ezra taught me how to make those things you guys all love. What are they called again?”
“Hmm?” He lifted his gaze to mine, the glow around him pulsing brighter than I’d ever seen it except that day in the bathroom.
“Dessert?” I repeated.
“Sounds good.” His murmur made goosebumps break out on my skin, but I ignored them, strolling into the kitchen like my heart wasn’t thumping hard in my chest.
His hand brushed my hip, the touch innocent, but enough to make the frenzy’s need swell hotter around me and within me.
Shit, I wanted him.
“Where’s your recipe book?” I asked.
He pulled it from a cupboard rather than answering me.
And instead of giving it to me, he set it down on the countertop beside me and opened it up. His hand slid over my hip again, his front brushing my back lightly. “What do you want?”
I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying, “You.”
“Something with chocolate,” I managed, after a moment.
I had been planning to make dessert for him, but that plan was out the window.
“You sit. I’ll cook.”
“You don’t have any chairs,” I reminded him, still facing away. “And I—oof!” My ass landed on the counter, and my eyes met his. With that added height, our gazes were level.
“I like taking care of you, Aurora. Just sit here and talk to me while I bake for you.”
Damn.
Could he have said something sexier, if he tried?
I didn’t think so.
“A conversation doesn’t seem like a fair trade,” I finally protested, when he looked down at the recipe long enough to start pulling ingredients from the pantry and fridge (they called them iceboxes in Evare, but all of us women stuck with fridge).
“If you want to feel more equal, you could take your clothes off. Letting me talk to youandlook at you while I cook would be more than fair.”
I snorted, and he flashed me a grin.
His glow was still insanely bright, but it was no longer pulsing. It had settled on a steady, vibrant golden light.
Mine had mostly settled too, and was almost as bright as his.
My gaze flicked to his shorts, and my face flushed at the sight of the tent in the fabric.
I wanted to touch him.
So much for my glow being steady. It had started bouncing and pulsing again.
Amarok’s attention was on the recipe for the moment, so I decided to take him up on his offer.
Nudity in exchange for cooking.
