Page 8 of Sweet Fantasies

Rolling my eyes, I stomp to the kitchen, waiting for him to follow me. “I wish you’d run that by me. I don’t necessarily want to be alone with you.”

He chuckles. “Afraid that you won’t be able to resist me?”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “Jesus. One of these days I’m gonna get physically sick from all the testosterone swimming through here. Through you.”

“You knew just as much as me when I asked you this morning. I was making the reservation and changed my mind.”

“Could have told me,” I grumble under my breath as he spreads his ingredients out on my counter.

He grunts as he paws through my drawers looking for utensils. “And risk you taking off for parts unknown and telling me hell no? I don’t think so.”

I sit down on one of my barstools, fighting the urge to either run away from him or get down and start messing with stuff. Which would probably drive him nuts.

I know this is driving me nuts.

He pulls a cutting board out and starts chopping up salad ingredients. Lettuce, tomatoes, even hardboiled eggs and my eyebrows lift in surprise.

“What kind of salad are you making?”

“Just a regular salad but I’m making my own caesar dressing.”

Yum!

“And what else are you making?”

“Nothing complicated. Just some steaks that I’ve had marinating all day and some twice-baked potatoes that I already baked earlier. I’ll fill them up and then bake them again. And then we’ll get to know each other better while I fill your belly.”

And there goes my dirty fucking mind. Because I want him filling other parts of me. All night long.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I grumble and try to ignore my rumbling belly and spasming pussy.

God, this guy does shit that I didn’t think could ever happen to me.

“That’s alright. I can get something ready or maybe just fill the potatoes.”

He whips around and drops the knife in his hand to the cutting board, startling a squeak from me.

He steps up until he’s right in front of me, his body blocking me in. His hands drop to the counter behind me and he leans over me, caging me in. “Or you could just sit your pretty ass right there and let me do my thing,” he growls under his breath.

I know I should tell him that I’m fully capable of helping him. That I don’t like being told what to do. But I melt at the smoldering heat in his eyes and I just nod my head, completely mute.

He grins and leans down, slamming his mouth onto mine, his tongue slipping along my bottom lip and then pushing inside, tangling sinuously with my own tongue until when he lifts his head, I’m panting for breath, my thoughts an absolute mess.

He chucks me under my chin and grins again. “That’s my girl.” And those simple words from him have me squirming on the seat, my pussy melting into a puddle of juices. I didn’t know I had a praise kink but here we are.

And the damn asshole knows it too! He smirks and then turns back to his cooking preparation.

“So, how long have you been baking?”

My tongue is glued to the top of my mouth but I finally get it untangled enough to say, “since I was a kid. I had a grandmother that was a whiz in the kitchen. She could bake anything. She was from England and came over when she met a man during the war that she said she couldn’t forget. Love at first sight.” I snort under my breath.

He smirks at me. “So it runs in the family, huh?”

Rolling my eyes, I sit back and eye him like he’s a crazy person. “I do not love you.”

“You do. You just don’t want to admit it.”

“Honestly, I need to find out if you’re on meds and you haven’t taken them lately. You’re obviously hallucinating.”

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