Page 88 of His Sassy Omega
Quinn had glanced up at my face then, and squeezed my hand, hard. “Put your fangs away and act right.”
We’d been going back and forth between each of our houses, staying a night or two at his place, and then at mine. Tonight was Valentine’s Day, and I planned to ask Quinn to move in with me.
I wanted him to help me make my house a real home. Things had settled down at the bakery, with the holidays over, until last week. I’d never imagined so many people would want custom cookies and cupcakes for Valentine’s, but Quinn had told me it was a big day for them. He had five different orders for massive chocolate chip toffee cookies with, “Will you marry me?” written in icing across them.
I’d stared at him, disappointed I’d never thought of doing that, and he’d tossed out, “Who knew? I’d probably laugh if anyone ever proposed to me like that.” He’d given me a hard stare. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I would never, Sass Ass,” I’d assured him, totally lying, but he didn’t need to know that. Ever.
Quinn had crawled out of my bed this morning at two a.m., and it was now after eight at night. They’d stayed open late for all the late pickups that customers had asked for. I was planning to get him off his feet as soon as possible.
I’d made a romantic dinner for us with the help of my chef, Therese, who was more than happy to give me cooking lessons whenever my schedule allowed. She only worked for me three days a week. I still wasn’t great at it, but I was improving all the time. I’d discovered cooking was something I enjoyed doing.
Therese had even left me some brochures for culinary classes at the local college. I’d thought that was rather funny. After getting an outrageously expensive education, at one of the most prestigious universities in thecountry, I was thinking of enrolling in community college at almost forty years old.
My mom had been beside herself, when I’d mentioned to her that I wanted to learn how to cook for my mate. She’d clapped her hands, telling me, “I always wanted to teach you boys to cook, but your dad said no.”
She lowered her voice, trying to imitate my dad’s booming baritone. “Alphas don’t cook. Hog wash! Then you boys just never seemed interested when I would try. Except Finn. He was always in my kitchen.”
“Wait, what?” Finn cooked? Not for the first time, I wondered what other secrets I didn’t know about my brothers.
“He’s quite good,” my mom shared proudly. “His chicken parm is perfection. You should have him make it for you sometime. Well, when Quinn can stomach garlic again. He’s shit at baking, though.”
I pecked Quinn’s lips in a quick kiss, my hands resting on his shoulders feeling the tightly bunched muscles beneath his shirt. He closed his eyes, moaning as I rubbed at a knot, his whole-body deflating in bliss.
“Tired?” I asked. He rested his head beneath my chin, and let me work at the muscles, his breath hissing when I hit a particularly sore spot.
“Longest. Day. Ever.” He moved out of my grasp. “I’m dying of thirst, too. I need water.”
He moved down the hallway and into my kitchen, which he seemed to have a love affair with. He poured a cold glass of water, then drained it in one gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Quinn loved this kitchen. Stainless steel appliances, a double oven, granite countertops, and a huge island with a butcher block. There was every conceivable kitchen gadget across the various workspaces, even if I didn’t have a clue what most of them did.
I watched as he ran his hands over every surface he could touch. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him do this, and I doubted it would be the last.His fingers trailed over the countertop, touching it like he was touching a lover.
My deep voice broke into his awe of the kitchen. “Do you want me to leave you and my kitchen alone? You seem like you're about to have a moment.”
He grinned at me, trailing a hand over the island. “I can’t help it if this kitchen is a chef’s wet dream.”
My dark brows arched. “So, you are about to have a moment then? Should I leave you two alone?”
“This island is fucking beautiful.” He sprawled across it, bending at his waist and spreading his arms across it, closing his eyes.
I coughed, or growled, or moaned, I wasn’t sure, but I made a strangled, choking sound. He opened one eye to glare at me for interrupting his moment.
“Don’t do that,” I begged.
“Why?” he asked innocently, looking at me over his shoulder. Wiggling his plump ass at me, humping the edge of the island.
“Because there is food waiting for us in the dining room,” I told him. “And I know you probably forgot to eat enough today.”
He pursed his lips at me, that full bottom lip of his sticking out just a little. “Maybe I want something else to eat right now.”
His eyes were smoldering, the green so bright it burned into me, and I couldn’t take it. I forgot everything I had planned for this night. The expensive dinner I’d prepared. The cheesy, cliché, Valentine’s candy, the ridiculously expensive roses. All I can think about is sliding my cock into his hot, wet hole, and slamming him into my pristine kitchen counter. The counter he was currently grinding his hard cock against, putting on a show while I watched.
A sound rumbled from my throat, a groan, a moan, a growl. I plastered myself against his back, pushing him further into the cool granite. My teeth grazed down his neck, back up and nipped at the lobe of his ear. Hard enough to sting.
He moaned, eyes closing, pushing his perfect ass against the rigid length of my dick. “I’m fucking horny, Lach. All day I have been. It’s like some switch got flipped in me. No more tears today, all I can think about is your thick cock filling me up and your knot.”
