Page 98 of Property of Stone
That was another reason why she hesitated to share a bed with Stone. What Wren witnessed that day from his own father was a horrible example of a man. She wasn’t convinced Stone was any better.
The Kings’ vice president could be her next huge mistake, if not her final one, if things went badly.
While his morals might be questionable, on the outside—despite the massive amount of tattoos—he was one fine physical specimen.
Worse, he knew it, too.
This morning the man in question only wore loose jeans clinging precariously to his narrow hips, exposing two delicious dimples above his ass and the black elastic waistband of his boxer briefs.
Since her presence was given away when her stomach growled loudly, she finished entering the kitchen. “You said you couldn’t cook, but that smells good.”
Not bothering to turn or even look at her, he announced, “Not as good as your pussy.”
All the oxygen rushed from her lungs and that same pussy clenched when her brain was suddenly flooded with last night’s memory. Especially when it came to his skills with his tongue.
It was *chef’s kiss*. Of course, being both a chef and the recipient of that spectacular pleasure, she had it on good authority.
Taryn fought the urge to immediately start cleaning up the disaster on the counter and instead, joined him at the stove. “I beg to differ.” She checked out the pans onthe burners. “Nothing smells as good as crispy bacon.” Was he using the bacon grease to cook the eggs?
Smart.
“You’d be wrong.”
“Well, if you thought my pussy smelled better than bacon, you’d be eating that right now.”
She slapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes went wide the second she realized what had come out of her mouth.Holy shit.When had she ever talked like that? Was his crudeness rubbing off on her? One of her worries when it came to Wren spending a bunch of time with the Kings.
Stone glanced over at her in time to catch the heat burning her cheeks. Of course.
One side of his mouth hiked up. “Figured we could eat breakfast together before the kids get up and have a little discussion on how to handle me movin’ back upstairs.”
The man was certainly determined. “I told you that I can move?—”
He cut her off with a growled, “That ain’t it.”
Taryn sighed at his perseverance. “Stone, I don’t want?—”
“That ain’t the answer, either.”
“Maybe not your preferred answer, no, but, news flash, it’s not an actual conversation unless it involves at least two people. Anything less than that is simply a dictatorship. An actual discussion also means we both have opinions, whether they’re the same or not.”
“Not all opinions are valid.” He pointed the spatula used to stir the scrambled eggs toward the table. Her mouth dropped open as she watched small bits of cooked egg get flung onto the previously clean floor. “Go sit. Gonna bring your plate over.”
“Oh, I get service with breakfast.” She might not be looking forward to this particular talk but she was lookingforward to tasting the meal he prepared. She hoped it was good enough to be worth the mess he created at least.
“If that’s what you want, sure thing. Get naked, climb on the table, and spread your legs. Gonna be there in a sec to service you.” He followed that up with a blinding smile.
Which actually distracted her for a second.
Or two.
Maybe even three.
Damn it.“I meant?—”
He shook his head. “Know what you meant. Go sit.”
“Can I grab a cup of coffee first? I’ll need caffeine in preparation for this newest negotiation.”
