Page 14 of The Sweetmate
“I guess the kitchen is your expertise.”
“There are two rooms I specialize in: the kitchen and the bedroom. I can guarantee full satisfaction in both.”
And there it is.
His overconfidence is a nice little turnoff. “Is that what all your adoring fangirls say? Tell me, do you typically go after virgins because they don’t know any better?”
He pauses and stares at me intently until it becomes uncomfortable. “Are you a…?”
“That’s none of your business.”
His slack jaw and wide eyes take me in for another moment before he blinks and shakes his head. “Sorry. You’reright.” He turns around and goes back to preparing breakfast. With his back to me, he clears his throat and mumbles, “None of my business.”
Boundaries. We need clear boundaries. “While we’re on the topic ofpersonalinformation, let’s set some clear guidelines. We’re sharing space, and I want us to get along, but we both need to have a clear understanding of what’s work appropriate and maintain our professionalism.”
“Right.” He spins around, producing a latte with an elegant swan design in the cream. “So what are our work hours? When do we get to clock out?”
“There is no clocking out. We will always maintain a professional relationship.”
Casey smirks at my tone and spins around to empty some contents into a sizzling skillet. I stare down at the masterpiece that’s almost too beautiful to ruin. But I’m desperate for caffeine. An embarrassing moan escapes my lips.
“Completely professional at all times.” Casey throws me a verynotprofessional wink over his shoulder and goes back to focusing on the task in front of him.
I don’t appreciate how my treacherous traitorous body responds to him. The sound of him stirring something is the only noise before the most delicious smell assaults my nose, making my mouth water and pulling another wanton noise from me. If his cooking is half as amazing as his barista skills, I may have hit the jackpot in the roommate department.
Casey spins around and places a generous serving of scrambled eggs mixed with diced vegetables onto my play. He’s somehow managed to make art. This is spectacular. I whip my phone out and immediately begin taking photos. When I take a forkful and shove it into my mouth, I have a full-on foodgasm. “Oh my gosh. Incredible.”
“That’s not the first time I’ve heard a woman cry out those words in ecstasy, but usually it’s in that other room I specialize in.”
“You can’t be better in there than you are here.” I shovel another bite into my mouth. “Ohmygoshyes.”
Two piercing blue eyes come into my line of vision. Casey leans forward on the counter and whispers, “Is that a challenge?”
“No, no, no. I meant… I don’t know what I meant, but no.”
“Do you watch porn? Has anyone ever told you that you sound like a porn star when you eat? It’s fascinating. You’re so rigid and uptight, yet I give you food and you turn into a siren. A lustful and seductive creature. What would happen if I gave you a cupcake?”
I’d probably lick the icing like my life depended on it and then see how much I could fit into my mouth.
Casey bites his lip, fighting back a smile. A finger is pointed in my face. “I bet you really turn into a vixen then. Tell me, do you lick the frosting first? Twirl your tongue around it?”
Yes.“No.”
“Liar.”
I clear my throat. Taking a napkin, I dab my lips. “First, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Two, I don’t watch porn, and I ask you not to watch it around me. Three, this is not a professional conversation. So many lines are being crossed.”
“You’re the one having an orgasm in front of me. Even if I am the one who gave it to you.”
“From eating your food.”
“Still my handiwork. And if you think that’s good, wait until you feel my actual hands.”
Whoa. Did he seriously just say that? “I’m calling my boss. This isn’t going to work.”
He winces. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate. You know what, I don’t know why I do this. I feel like I always have to be this flirt and… It’s stupid. Unless you want to—nope.” He snaps his fingers and then points. “I’ll stop. Seriously. I’ll get control of myself.”
His strikingly blue eyes appear so sincere. I mull over his apology, and for whatever reason, I do believe him. I think he’s more of a goofball flirt and—for the most part—harmless. Until he runs his thumb along his lower lip. The gesture, so simple yet so sensual. My heart flutters again. I must be extremely lonely, because I never behave this way.
