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Chapter 8
DANIEL
“Good morning,” Riley chirps from the kitchen, waving a spatula when I come limping out of the bedroom.
“Good morning.” My response comes out more as a reflex than a genuine greeting.
After only about four hours of sleep, it’s a miracle I even heard my seven o’clock alarm. Which Riley had beaten somehow. By quite a lot judging by the feast covering the kitchen bar.
“Coffee?” she asks setting a cup in front of me and pouring anyway. “How do you take it?”
“Black is fine.” I sit on the barstool and take a sip. “Damn. That’s fucking delicious.”
“It’s my secret recipe,” Riley says with a wink over her shoulder.
Could she be any fucking hotter? Cooking a litany of my favorite foods while wearing nothing but one of my T-shirts that falls no more than an inch past her hips.
“Are you making more food?” There’s no way we’ll get through even half of what she’s already made. Omelets, bacon, three different kinds of pancakes, waffles, toast, and…
Riley turns with the skillet and spatula in her hand and moves the French toast from the pan to a plate. “I didn’t know what you’d want, so…”
I reach across the counter, take the skillet and spatula from her and set it aside. Then, taking Riley’s hand, lead her around the bar. Settling her between my legs, I cup her face in my hands and kiss her. I only mean for it to be a quick thank you kind of kiss but then Riley hums and parts her lips and it turns into more of a long fuck me kind of kiss. Twining her tongue with mine, she wraps her arms around my neck and crashes into me.
“Mm, I could get used to starting my days like this,” I tell her when we finally come up for air.
“Buffet style?” she asks.
I raise a brow. “Depends what’s on it.”
Her smile fades. “Do you not like any of these?”
I can’t help chuckling. I love her blind spots. How subtlety and innuendo are often lost on her. I hope she never loses that. “Riley. I’m talking about you. I could get used to starting my days with you.”
“Oh. Sorry. Maybe I should have another cup of coffee.”
“Which you’re definitely going to teach me how to make.” Keeping one arm around Riley, I drink the rest of the cup she poured for me.
“Not a chance. If I teach you then you won’t need me to make it for you anymore. I take job security very seriously.” Riley takes the empty cup and walks around the counter.
After refilling it, she brings it back around. But as I reach for it, she snatches the cup back and holds it out of my reach.
“No free refills,” she says setting the mug on the far corner of the counter.
The second her hand is clear of the steaming drink, I pull her in and kiss her again. Even deeper than before. And instead of cupping her face in my hands, I follow the curve of her waist to her hips and fill my hands with the thick, luscious curve of her ass.
“Will that cover it?” I ask between the kisses I trail along her jaw.
Riley tilts her head exposing her throat. I accept her offer nipping her pulse then smoothing the bite with my tongue.
“Oh,” she moans arching her back until the shirt of mine she’s wearing, trapped between us, pulls tight over her breasts revealing the erect, little nubs underneath.
I lift the hem of the baggy shirt, aching to get my mouth on them when a song chimes nearby.
My phone.
I want to ignore it, let it go to voicemail, but I can’t risk missing a call from Julia.
“Hold that thought,” I say kissing her once more before heading to the stand by the door where I left my phone the night before.
