Page 11 of Grateful for You
He glanced around his very messy kitchen in confusion. “I had all that?”
I shrugged. “All but the nutmeg.”
“Huh.” He finished chewing and licked some sugar off his bottom lip. Seeing his tongue, knowing it had slid across my finger moments ago, made me more acutely aware of his lips and how talented they just might be. What could that mouth do to my nipple, my mouth, my clit?
“Well, then,” he said. “Put me to work. What should I cook?”
Cook? He was thinking about cookingnow? While my thoughts were R-rated and on a path straight to X-rated, he was wondering if he could help me cook?
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I didn’t know what this man’s deal was—if he was playing hard to get or being chivalrous or if he just simply had will-power of steel, but I hadn’t let myself indulge at all in six-months… no, longer than that. It had been six months since John and I had sex, but that wasn’t indulgent. That was going through the motions. That was perfunctory. This was different. IwantedMason. I wanted hot chocolate and pie, and I wanted to throw this diet and this lifestyle that John had set up for me out the fucking window. I wanted to embrace my desires and truly indulge them.
If only for these two nights while I was here. Then I’d be on my way… back to my regimented life. Except this time I’d be on the run.
Or maybe not.
I handed him a bag of flour. “Sure, you can help,” I said with a wicked smile.Help me out of my pants.Because despite his reserved demeanor, Mason wanted me, too. I had felt just how much he wanted me press into my hip earlier that evening.
“On one condition,” he said.
I lifted my brow. “You have conditions?”
He gave a small nod. “We have to make pumpkin pie, too. It’s my all-time favorite.”
I grinned and took his hand, shaking it in agreement. “Deal.”
If Thanksgiving was a holiday for decadence and splurging, then Mason and I were going to indulge all right… ineach other.
7
Mason
An hour and a half. I had spent an hour and a half at that bar and had come home just after nine thirty. Piper had been so exhausted, I’d been certain she would have been asleep by then… or at the very least, in bed.
But when I walked up the driveway to my front door, I could see her curves through the window, standing there in my kitchen. Spoon in hand, she swayed her hips to a soft beat of music that carried through the windows into the quiet, snowy night.
The sway of her hips shifted that t-shirt higher up her hips and I exhaled sharply, realizing she had slid little shorts on beneath the shirt—a fact that I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or frustrated to see.
God, she had a great ass. Soft and shapely. Her curves met the tops of her muscled thighs. Thighs I wanted to wrap around my waist just as I sank deep inside of her.
Now here we were over an hour later, the Etta James music had evolved into Bon Jovi. My kitchen was a disaster, and I probably looked even worse. Flour dusted almost every surface, but hell, I had made a pie. That golden-brown pie crust cooling on the counter was my own creation and I had to admit, I was damn proud. She was right… it was pretty easy.
Of course, while I made one facet of one dish, she had finished the mashed potatoes, the stuffing, and prepped the green beans for tomorrow so that all we had to do was turn the oven on and slide the casserole dish inside. Outside of actually cooking the turkey, dinner was basically done.
She slid the unbaked pie into the oven and pressed a button on a timer that I hadn’t even realized I had. Hell, maybe I’d been eating out at Elsa’s too damn much lately.
“Now what?” I asked.
She held out her hands. “Now, we clean up.”
I laughed and picked a bit of dough from her hair. “You just took a bath and now you need another one.”
Her eyes flashed, turning so dark and velvety, they looked nearly black in the low light of the kitchen. “You have some syrup on your jaw,” she said.
I swiped my hand across my left jaw, the five o’clock shadow scraping my palm like Velcro.
She shook her head. “Other side,” she said. “Here, I’ll get it.”
Before I could respond, she pushed onto her toes and kissed my jaw, just next to my lips. Her tongue traced a circle and before she pulled away, she gave my skin a soft nibble.
