Page 9 of Filthy Chef

The cussing gets her attention and her eyes lock on mine.

“I am,” she insists.

“You went somewhere.”

“I…”

“You don’t like me touching your stomach?”

“It’s fine.”

“Fine?”

“I’m not used to it.” She swallows. Her eyes start to shine. Dammit, she better dry it up because I’ll lose my shit. I’ll have to leave and go kill somebody for whatever they did to her.

“What happened to you?” I ask.

She laughs but it’s hollow. “There’s not a single woman on the planet who loves their stomach.”

That’s not the honest answer but I’ll take it. I have to take it because if she tells me more, I won’t be able to control myself.

I nod in understanding. “You wanna know what I think about it?” I ask, measuring the span between the bottom of her bra and the waistband of her skirt.

She bites her lip and nods her head.

I drop to my knees and brush my lips over her sweet middle.

“Usually, a dude goes for the boobs first,” she says with a soft laugh.

I sweep soft, damp kisses over her abdomen, her muscles tightening under my touch. “Those are on my list, just not at the top.”

“You have a list? Let’s hear it.”

“First this,” I say, dragging my mouth down toward her navel, nipping a faint freckle.

I glance up; her chest heaves, her face angled up to the ceiling, her eyes closed. “And after that?”

“After that, I’m leaving my mark on one cute little nipple.”

She smiles, her back arching off the door. “How do you know my nipples are cute?”

“I’m not finished, smart-ass.”

Journey’s pretty teeth bite down on her lip to stifle a moan.

“You’re learning. That’s good. Next, I’m gonna watch you come while my fingers own you. And then you’ll get to come a second time while you ride my face.”

“Oh god, yes, please,” Journey whispers.

I chuckle against her skin and give it a soft nip, my hands never stopping their caresses. God, why am I still talking? I need to find out what’s under this flouncy little skirt.

“You like the idea of coming on my face, shortcake?”

“Yes,” she squeaks.

“You want that?”

Her hips push forward. “Please…”

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