Page 45 of Four Letter Feelings

Chapter 18

“You’re insatiable,” she sighed, plopping onto one of the chairs at the dining table, with a fresh mug of steaming coffee in her hand.

“Are you complaining?” he asked.

“What? No. You definitely have adequate skills in the bedroom, and you’re selfless – which I’m not used to from men – but you sure are… hungry.” She grinned at him and ran her tongue across her full, bottom lip.

“Adequate? Woman, you wound me!” he exclaimed, feeling exasperated by this woman who clearly enjoyed toying with him far too much.

“For real though, what’s for breakfast? All that sex… I’ve definitely worked up an appetite.” She’d joined him in the bathroom for a shower, and they’d made it as far as his bed before they had to have each other again. On the way down the stairs she’d groped his ass and purred in his ear about how she hadn’t had her fill yet, so their third time was in the hall behind the front door at the bottom of the stairs. After the night before, he didn’t need any more convincing that they were compatible in bed, but she’d certainly reaffirmed it that morning.

He walked to the laundry room to retrieve the dough and turned it out onto the counter to knead it before rolling.

“You bake?”

He grinned at her surprise.

“Yeah, I’m adequate in the kitchen as well.”

Her laugh was contagious.

“Cinnamon rolls, though I think the dough might be somewhat over-proved, what with all the sex and all. But it’ll have to do, I don’t have time for a do-over.”

“Not even while the rolls cook?” She pursed her lips to the side and her eyes sparkled with suggestion.

“And I’m the insatiable one.” He shook his head in disbelief as he rolled the dough.

She sat in silence as he worked, spreading the softened butter over the long rectangle of dough and sprinkling cinnamon sugar over the top of it before rolling into a thick, long, tight cylinder.

“That’s a lot of sugar,” she remarked.

“Are you watching me bake?” he asked over his shoulder.

“I’m mostly watching your ass and sometimes your shoulders, but sure, we can go with watching you bake.”

He chuckled.

“You work out a lot, don’t you?” she asked, though there was no trace of judgement in her voice. It was a statement, not a judgement. She danced, he figured she’d get it.

“Yes ma’am, I do. Hockey,” he answered over his shoulder, as though that were all the explanation she needed.

“Of course, you’re a jock.”

Jeremy could practically hear her eyes rolling in her head.

“You want cinnamon rolls or not?” he asked coyly, as he finished slicing the rolls and put them in the pre-heated oven.

When he looked at her, she pretended to zip her mouth closed and he laughed as he started a timer, washed his hands and tidied up the worktop. Her long, athletic dancer-legs were crossed and her heel was resting on the edge of the dining table. If AJ had his bare feet on the dining table, Jeremy would lose his mind, but with this woman, all he wanted was for those lean and perfectly sculpted legs to be wrapped around his waist.

“You want me again, don’t you?” Amusement clearly written across her face.

“I really do,” he answered, feeling surprised at the voracity of his unusually high sexual appetite in that moment.

“Don’t normally want them the next morning, eh? A one and done kinda guy? Classy.”

“There’s no sex-shaming in this family, Jessica… whatever your last name is. Shit. I don’t even know your last name, and we slept together on our first not-even-a-date.”

“It’s no wonder they say you’re a man-whore, Mr. Lewis.” She grinned.

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