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Startled by her brazenness, he stepped into the kitchen and headed for the stove, where he busied
himself finding the right size pan. There s premade pancake mix in a stone canister on the top shelf.
Long-life milk on the bottom shelf.
Thanks.
When she turned away and wasn t watching him with wide-eyed wariness, he said, I m sorry
about before. I shouldn t have
You re apologizing for the sex? She whirled on him, radiating indignation. Don t do that, okay?
It was phenomenal. Her shoulders slumped. And wrong on so many levels I can t begin to
articulate. But it s done. We both enjoyed it. At least, I did, and I m assuming you did, too?
He heard her hint of vulnerability, and it made him want to sweep her into his arms and hold her.
He settled for banging the pan on the stove instead. It has been a long time for me, so yes, the sex
was amazing.
She puffed up like an outraged bullfrog. So anyone would ve done? Is that what you re saying?
No, of course not. Shit, he was making a mess of this. You were& incredible, he finished
lamely, not wanting to say she was the best sex he d ever had. For the simple fact of how responsive
and uninhibited she d been.
She hadn t wanted the lights out or thousand-thread-count sheets. She hadn t wanted thirty minutes
of dictated foreplay or nonstop compliments. She d matched him, clawing and writhing and just being
in the moment.
It had been fucking unbelievable.
Wildly erotic and he d be hard for a week just remembering every detail: the sounds she made, the
way she bit him, how she wanted him all the way.
I can live with incredible, she said, a small, smug smile curving her kiss-ravaged lips. But as
much as I d like to stand here and discuss your prowess, I need pancakes. Stat.
He could handle cooking pancakes. What he couldn t handle was the relentless urge to hoist her
onto the kitchen bench and do her again.
You mix, I ll fry, he said, firing up the stove and spraying the pan with oil. He needed to keep
busy. Needed to focus on something other than sex.
He succeeded for about three minutes, until Zoe sidled up to him with the batter. The moment he
caught her light floral scent with a hint of something muskier, he lost it.
He switched off the stove and turned to face her. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the
wildness that must have been reflected in his tortured gaze.
I said pancakes first
Fuck the pancakes.
At least he took the time to remove the batter bowl from her hands and place it on the counter
before hoisting her onto it.
He spread her legs and buried his face between them. Licked her. Savored her low groan as he
swiped his tongue over her clit and delved between her moist folds. He d never tasted anything so
sweet.
His cock pulsed with the need to be buried deep inside where his tongue currently probed. So he
unzipped and freed himself. Stroked his cock while he licked her. Desperate to hold back the
escalating tension.
That is so fricking hot, she murmured, and as he glanced up, he saw her watching him.
In response, he lapped at her, increasing the pressure with his tongue, varying the speed, until she
was panting and writhing.
Dom, oh my God, yeah, she screamed, her fingers digging into his scalp as she came.
On the verge himself, he didn t waste any time. He sheathed himself in record time, then reached
for her hips and tugged her to the edge of the counter before slamming into her.
No finesse. No softness. Hard and fast like the first time.
He couldn t seem to control his reaction to her unashamed sexuality, couldn t seem to focus on
anything but being inside her tight wetness.
More, she demanded, urging him on by clutching at his shoulders and wrapping her legs around
his waist.
So he delivered. Pumping into her until he was mindless, caught up in the throes of an orgasm so
powerful, he almost blacked out.
She convulsed around him a moment later, her passion-fogged gaze locked on his.
Dominic wanted to speak. He wanted to say how she made him feel: like a hormonal teenager who
couldn t keep it in his pants around her. That she deserved to be romanced. Or at least indulged in
hours worth of foreplay.
But he was rendered speechless by the expression in her eyes. Gratitude. And something else.
Something akin to the same crazy, out-of-control feeling ricocheting through him, a feeling he had no
hope of labeling, because he didn t have a frigging clue what it was.
You know what this means, don t you? She smiled and it lit up the room.
What?
You owe me a double serving of pancakes.
&
Zoe couldn t move.
She lay sprawled on the way-too-comfy sofa, her stomach full of pancakes and maple syrup. How
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