Total pages in book: 199
Estimated words: 192134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 640(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 640(@300wpm)
“You are so hot right now.” His fingers slip beneath my T-shirt to skim my ribs as he kisses my neck. “All bossy, taking charge of my kitchen . . .”
“Someone had to take you in hand.” I bite my lip as his palms glide higher. “You’re clearly a pancake-flipping virgin.”
“You’re so right.” He cups my breasts, making my next breath rush in on a gasp of awareness as his thumb brushes across my nipple. “And so generous and patient with me. I wonder how I can ever repay you.”
Flipping off the heat to the burner, I lean against him, offering him unimpeded access, glancing over my shoulder to meet his gaze as I whisper, “I have a few ideas about repayment.”
“Oh, yeah?” He somehow manages to maintain his innocent expression even as he rolls my nipples harder, making me fight to hold in a moan. “Might they have anything to do with a lesson in up-against-the-refrigerator sex?”
I lick my lips, pressing them tight together as hunger floods my every cell. “I think refrigerator sex is a good start. Though, I may require further payment after breakfast. I have some questions about alternative uses for maple syrup that I would like to explore.”
Graham makes a contemplative sound deep in his throat. “Tell me more.”
But before I can answer, and tell him exactly what I have in mind for syrup, he’s captured my mouth with his, sending the taste of sweet, sugary coffee and Graham flooding through my mouth.
And it is as fantastic as always.
The best taste. My favorite taste.
Pancakes are definitely going to have to wait.
21
CJ
The lesson in alternative uses for syrup goes well—very well, if I do say so myself. By the time I’m finished with Graham, he’s so useless I have to bring his plate of pancakes to him on the kitchen floor and feed him syrup-soaked pieces until he recovers his strength.
“You’re such a drama king,” I tease as I pop a bite between his lips before stabbing another triangle for myself.
He smiles, his eyes closed as he chews. “Am not. This is what happens to a man when you give him the best blow job of his life.” He continues before I can challenge the truth of that statement. “Besides, I’m conserving my energy for the afternoon’s adventures.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, intrigued. “And what might those be?”
His eyes open in a sleepy, sexy way that makes my body start to hum again. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise. Something to push us both out of our comfort zones. It’s going to be fun.”
I arch an eyebrow, unsure what he’s getting at. “If you say so.”
“But you will need to dress for moderate to strenuous physical activity in the out of doors.”
My brows lift. “You want to go outside?”
“Hard to conduct the lesson I have in mind in an apartment.”
I twist my features into an exaggerated frown. “All right. If you insist. But I confess I was having fantasies about keeping you in bed all day. With few to no clothes on.”
“Tempting. Very tempting, but there will be time for that tomorrow. Today, we’re taking it to the streets. Get dressed, Butterfly. We’re going out.”
An hour later, after two subway rides—a trip to The Village Vet to check on Stephen King and spoil him with petting and tuna treats, and a walk through a part of Brooklyn I haven’t seen before—we arrive at the Prospect Park outdoor roller-skating rink, and Graham holds open the gate to usher me inside.
“You have to be kidding,” I say, my gaze sliding to the families, couples, and wild, sticky-faced kids rolling in frenzied circles. “We both stink at roller-skating.”
“Which is why this is a perfect chance to learn something new together.”
“While I love the idea, might I remind you of the debacle known as Chloe’s roller-disco party two years ago?”
“I know. That’s what’ll make it fun. We’ll fall on our assess in unity.”
I shoot him a skeptical stare. “Have you forgotten that you nearly wound up with a shattered tailbone? I, for one, have a crystal-clear visual of you landing smack on your cute butt in the middle of the rink.”
He smirks. “You think my ass is cute.”
I roll my eyes. “Obviously. But that’s neither here nor there. Why don’t you park that cute butt on a paddleboat and we can do that together instead? They rent those. I saw a sign back there.”
He shakes his head, wiggling his eyebrows. “I’d rather see your cute butt skating in front of me.”
I laugh at him and then take a deep breath. Come to think of it, what if I do fall on my butt? What if he falls on his?
We’ll get back up. We’ll keep on skating. We’ll figure it out together.
A fresh surge of confidence zips through me. “Fine, then let’s lace up, speedy. I’m ready to race if you are,” I say with a wink.