Page 11 of Killer's Obsession
We pass Morpheus sprawled on one of the couches, watching ESPN, coffee mug in hand. Dread’s at a high-top table, working on his laptop, probably looking at real estate. He’s been talking about getting a place of his own since Rage and Mac got married. Said they didn’t need him under their feet anymore, with the baby coming and all.
Nobody’s at the bar when we approach. “Is this good?” I point to the stool closest to the jukebox.
“Yeah.” Memphis starts to pull the barstool out, but I grab hold of the padded top and do it for her.
“I could have gotten that myself.”
“You could have,” I agree. Rolling her eyes, she climbs up.
Once she’s situated, I slide onto the one next to her, barely holding back my chuckle at her little legs dangling.
I’m about to comment on her pint-size stature when her stomach lets out a deep growl.
I look over at her and frown. Did she eat last night? I didn’t think to ask when I came in. “Hungry, Pet?”
She places a hand on her belly. “Tina’s talking.”
I snort. “You call your stomach Tina?”
She shrugs. “Only when she’s rowdy.”
Right on cue, Bubbles comes through the swinging door that leads to the kitchen, her long brown hair pulled up in a messy bun. She grins when she sees us.
“Morning, lovebirds,” she says, setting two coffee mugs in front of us and filling them up. “Usual, Killer?”
I grunt affirmatively. Steak and eggs over easy. Same thing I have every morning.
Bubbles turns to Memphis with a warm smile. “What about you, darlin’? You want your usual, too?”
Memphis smiles at her affectionately. “Yes, please.”
Bubbles nods and disappears back into the kitchen, her hips swaying in that exaggerated way that draws every man’s eye to her ass. When the door swings shut behind her, I grab my coffee and take a sip.
Beside me, Memphis wraps her hands around her mug, inhaling the caramel-scented steam. She takes hers with so much cream it’s barely even coffee anymore.
“Sleep okay?” I ask, though I already know the answer. I was right there with her all night. And not a single nightmare.
She nods, a hint of pink still in her cheeks, probably remembering the make-out session from earlier. “I did.”
I don’t know why she seems so embarrassed. We’re both adults. Before I can tell her as much, the door to the kitchen swings open, and Bubbles reappears with a small container of yogurt and a spoon.
“Steak’ll be ready in a few minutes, big guy,” she tells me before heading back to the kitchen.
I take another sip of my coffee. I’m not in too much of a hurry today. We have a lot to do today, but it’ll keep until after we eat.
“I love this stuff.” Memphis peels the top off her breakfast and dips her spoon in. She lifts the pink blob to her lips and shovels it in.
My constant boner presses against the zipper of my jeans.
Killing me. She’s fucking killing me.
When she feels me watching, she glances over and raises an eyebrow.
“What?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.” I can’t help but watch every move she makes. Everything she does fascinates me.
She goes back to her yogurt as Bubbles is pushing through the door again with my plate. A sirloin steak with three fried eggs on top. Yum.
