Page 38 of Extradition (Mobsters + Billionaires 1)
I know I would.
Taking another bite from my own plate, I enjoy it thoroughly. When I lick a stray mushroom from the tines of my fork then slide it in my mouth, Wolfe gulps and finally looks away.
Winner winner, chicken dinner. Wolfe definitely wants to see my penis.
And as much as I can imagine crowing over such a juicy detail, I instead feel intensely protective of this privileged truth.
“So, where do you get decent coffee in this joint?” I ask, interrupting him mid-bite. “I might throw myself off the balcony if I have to drink more of that pod crap.”
Grinning as he chews, he juts his chin over at some futuristic space machine sitting on the counter.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”
He raises his brow and sets his half-eaten breakfast on the counter. “Don’t touch my frittata—I’m coming back for it. Also, whatever you did with that bacon is really delicious.”
I shrug. “Found some chili pepper honey in your pantry, drizzled a little on the bacon right before I pulled it out of the pan.”
“Nice.” Rand crunches through another bite of bacon before pulling a mug from the cabinet. “Shot, Americano, latte, cappuccino?”
“This thing here makes a cappuccino?” I ask, now the one to look over his shoulder.
He briefly looks back then refocuses on the machine. “It’s got everything.”
“Fuck, then. Give me a cappuccino.”
Taking another bite of bacon, he hits a few buttons. Steam hisses out from the top and grinding sounds vibrate the entire machine. Within moments, a beautiful cappuccino with a foamy head is placed in my hands.
“Go ahead, try it.”
His look of anticipation is so cute it’s annoying, but my nonna taught me to be a good guest. I take a careful sip and…shit, this is good. Damn good.
“Well?” he asks, his eyes bright like a little kid’s. I chuckle at his excitement, and his smile disappears. He steps back, pulling a more neutral look across his face. There’s that inner drill sergeant again, yelling at him for showing the tiniest hint of emotion.
Rather than feel sorry for him, I take a few sips, relishing that this billionaire is waiting impatiently to find out if I enjoy his coffee.
Spoiler alert: I do.
“The only person who’s ever made better coffee in my entire life is my nonna. So yes, it’s very, very good.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He allows himself a small, pleased smile and then nods it away, straightening his shoulders. “You don’t have to drink the pod coffee. I don’t mind making you a cappuccino in the morning.”
“And I don’t mind making breakfast.”
“Deal.”
His eyes catch on something, and he reaches his hand out. Part of me wants to flinch, but I still my body as his thumb brushes across my upper lip. It sends sparks across my skin, and I will myself not to bend him over the counter.
“You had some foam there,” he says quietly.
“Thanks for the save.” I lick over the same spot, hoping for a taste of him.
I don’t think he knows what to do when I smile at him. It makes me want to do it even more.
Looking at the time, I take my mug and nod at the table. “Time to prep for our meeting.”
He dips his head and grins, then gathers his half-eaten breakfast, following me to the table.
Yeah, definitely playing with fire with this one.
