Watching her come was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. She’s so guarded about her body, and I understand why. Well, sort of. She’s so fucking beautiful. She’s tall¸ and curvy, and her dark hair hangs down her back. I’ve seen her all punked out, and I’ve seen her with no makeup and no artifice, and I like all the different sides of her. I would like to think that the side I’ve seen with her here is the real her, the one that she hides from everyone else. I want to think that she’s learning to let her guard down with me. I want to think that I’ve seen parts of her that no one else has seen.
She shaves. Totally naked pussy.
Damn, that was hot.
I’m never, ever going to be able to get rid of this hard-on if I keep thinking about it. But I can’t stop thinking about it.
So sweet.
So open.
So trusting.
With the lights on.
Talking to me the whole time.
Wet.
Hot.
Tight.
I look down at my boxers, which are tented by my dick. I just came in the shower, and look what she’s done to me.
I pull the ingredients for pancakes from the cabinet, make the pancakes, and slice some strawberries to add to her plate.
I can hear her singing in the shower again, and it makes me smile. I put two plates on the table, and warm up some syrup. Then at the last minute, I take out a can of whipped cream. I usually make my own whipped cream, but I’m out of ingredients right now. Mine is better, I have to say.
I spray a circle mound on top of her pancakes, and step back to admire my work. They look perfect.
She walks into the kitchen and her eyes avoid mine. She looks everywhere but at me.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods.
She doesn’t look okay. “Are you sure?”
She nods again and sits down in front of her plate. “Th-this looks really g-good,” she says quietly.
A grin tugs at my lips. “Thanks.”
She picks up her fork, but she still hasn’t even looked at me. Suddenly, she lays it down with a clatter. “You said w-we wouldn’t t-talk about it.”
“Talk about what?” I can play dumb with the best of them.
She rests her elbows on the table and buries her face in her palms. “It.”
“I have no intention of talking about it. In fact, I wish you’d change the subject, because you’re going to offend my delicate sensibilities.” I point to my face. “Is my face red? Blondes blush easily.”
“I thought that was r-redheads?”
“Is it?”
Finally, she looks at me. “You’re not b-blushing.”
“I don’t have anything to blush about, because nothing happened.”
Suddenly, my front door opens and my brother Pete comes into the room like someone is chasing him.
“Dude, don’t you know how to knock?”
He freezes. “Oops. I didn’t know you had company.” He turns like he’s going to leave.
“You might as well stay,” I call to him. “You already ruined breakfast.”
“I’ll stay, but only if you both have clothes on.” Amused, I realize he’s still looking toward the door.
“We have clothes on, dumbass.” I throw a strawberry at his head.
“Are you sure, because I remember that time I came home and you were butt naked on the kitchen counter…”
That was when we were still in high school. I thought I had the apartment to myself for a few minutes. I was wrong. Very wrong. Because all of my brothers came in and caught me with some girl whose name I can’t even remember now.
“No one is naked. No one is on the kitchen counter.”
Peck’s face is flaming red. I hold up my hands like I’m surrendering to the cops to ask for her to forgive me in advance.
“Oh, you made pancakes!” Pete opens my silverware drawer, grabs a fork, and jabs it into my pancakes.
“Hey!” I put out a hand to block him, but I really don’t care if he eats them. Hell, he can take them with him if he wants to. In fact, I’d make him a doggie bag if he’d leave. “Why are you here?”
Pete freezes. “Oh, holy shit,” he says. I see him looking at Peck. “Dude, I’m so sorry!” he rushes to say. “I didn’t know it was her.”
“Who the fuck did you think it would be?”
He waves a breezy hand in the air. “Anybody else.”
“There is no one else.” That comes out as a growl, and I meant for it to.
Peck wipes a drop of syrup from her lip and then licks her finger, and I watch closely. Shit like that makes me squirm when she does it.
Her thumb starts to tap on the tabletop. “Hey, Pete,” Peck says.
“Why are you here?” I ask him. He had better have a really good reason for interrupting my perfect morning.
“Paul sent me.” He talks around a mouth full of pancakes.
“For?”
“You’ve got that meeting with the PR people today. I’m going with you. Sky’s going to meet us there.”
I shake my head. “You are not going with me.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“I don’t need a babysitter!”
“Yeah, but I’m the one who got you in trouble in the first place.” He stops chewing for a second. “If I hadn’t called and made you come to the bar, and then if I hadn’t gotten in the fight, and you hadn’t switched shirts with Edward… It’s all my fault. I’m going to go and take all the blame.”