Page 91 of Happy Hour

That sounds horrible.

Making my way around their kitchen, I pulled out the ingredients to make Jameson some waffles—the boy was obsessed with them. His motor coach was overflowing with those damn Eggo waffles. I personally found them insanely delicious too but I wanted to make him a meal that didn’t have me as an ingredient.

Not that I was opposed to that sort of thing but we did need to find some balance; and nourishment.

After the batter was done and the waffle iron was heating, I heard footsteps behind me—hoping it wasn’t Spencer or Emma. I couldn’t handle them again today so I turned around warily.

And there, in all his morning glory, Jameson stood, wearing only a pair of khaki shorts. With insanely wild mess of hair, beautifully sparkly green eyes, sexy dirty smirk and his chiseled chest, was my hotheaded dirty heathen staring at me with lust burning eyes.

Hot damn.

He didn’t say anything but placed his hands on the island and the counter, trapping me in the corner of the U shaped kitchen.

“Hi,” My eyes stayed focused on his.

“Hi,” Jameson replied moving closer.

“I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”

“My breakfast wasn’t in bed though, so...” he shrugged his shoulders grinning.

“If you would havestayedin bed,” pushing lightly against his chest, I grinned as well. “I could have surprised you.”

Jameson shook his head slowly lifting me onto the counter with a soft grunt. “I wasn’t looking for food.” He clarified.

“What are you looking for then?”

“I think you know.”

I tapped my index finger to my lips and looked up as if I was contemplating. “You were looking for waffles, weren’t you?” I teased.

“No,” he shook his head slowly looking around the kitchen. “Try again.” He told me reaching for the honey bottle next to my arm.

“Honey?” I asked softly. “You were looking for honey?”

“I wasn’t looking for honey...” his voice trailed off setting the honey aside and reached for the hem of my shirt. “But I found honey.”

I grabbed his hands. “Jameson, your parents—”

“Aren’t home,” He finished pulling my shirt over my head. His hands snuck around my waist dragging me to the edge of the granite counter.

What kind of pit lizard would I be if I didn’t whore moan and arch my back when I felt his already hard camshaft ready and waiting for me?

Not a very good on, that’s for sure.

Staying true to par, I did whore moan and arch my back in response because damn, this boy was good.

Jameson’s strong hands moved with determination up my sides and around my back to remove my bra. Slowly, he pulled the hot pink bra away; my nipples harden in anticipation.

Throwing it behind him, he attacked my nipples with his perfected nipple trick he did so goddamn well. With each nip, I let out a whimper of pleasure and ground my hips against his, earning a moan of pleasure from him too.

Jameson stopped, looking up at me from under his thick black lashes. “Are you opposed to being sticky?”

“I thinkyou’rethe one with the issue regarding being sticky.”

He smirked. “So that’s a no?”

“Have you ever known me to be opposed to anything while my legs are spread?” I felt the need to point out.

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