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He ducks his head, severing our connection.
“I’m going to make it up to you,” he says as I settle between his legs and rest back against his chest.
“You’re right, you are,” I state.
Dropping his lips to my neck, he nuzzles my skin, making goose bumps erupt over my body.
“We’re going to fuck up, baby,” he mutters. “Often, probably. You’re going to need to bear with us.”
“Mmmm,” I moan as his hands slip around my wet body.
“But we’ll always do whatever we can to make it up to you over and over again.”
His hand descends south and I gasp when he finds my sensitive clit.
* * *
“Are you seriously going to try and convince me that you made these?” I ask, joining JD in the kitchen after our long, satisfying—for me—bath.
He disappeared, still frustrated and desperate, leaving me to finish up alone with the promise of having food waiting for me.
“Hell yeah.” He grins, proudly.
“I call bullshit,” I say, hopping up onto the counter beside the stack of waffles in question.
“Okay fine. Reid left them for us. I’m totally rocking this bacon though,” he says, turning to the pan of what I can only describe as ash.
“Err…”
“Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why is this so hard?” he whines like an impatient toddler.
“Move over,” I say, shuffling closer. “And pass me that pack of bacon.”
“I promised to make you food.” He pouts.
“We’ll do it together. I’ll just supervise,” I offer, desperately trying to keep the grin off my face.
“Do you have to enjoy this quite so much?” he scoffs, proving that I’m doing a shitty job of hiding my reaction.
“You’re cute.”
“I am not cute. I am a dangerous, cold-blooded Hawk, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, you’re that too. Right now, though, you’re just cute.”
He mutters his displeasure over that assessment as he scrapes his cremated bacon into the trash to start over.
“It’s not my fault I’m better at eating than cooking,” he confesses, glancing up at me with a naughty glint in his eye.
“I need food, Julian,” I state.
“Sure, but once you’ve eaten, all bets are off. I have every intention of Reid and Mav walking into something they’ll never forget.”
“You’ve got a one-track mind.”
“Takes one to know one,” he shoots back.
Shaking my head, I pass him the oil and give him simple, easy-to-follow steps until we have perfectly-cooked bacon and warmed waffles.
