Page 61 of Stolen Dreams

“What else do you feel?”

Her tongue peeks out and wets her lips before she clamps them between her teeth. The pink on her cheeks from minutes ago darkens and spreads to her neck.

My cock twitches behind my zipper.

She shifts on the stool then drops her attention back to my hands. “Fevered.”

Fuck me.

“Bet there’s no shortage of women at your door.” Her gaze flits up. “Or men.”

There is no fighting the painfully huge smile on my face. “Was… interesting when the videos first went viral. I won’t lie and tell you I didn’t enjoy the attention. It got me up in the morning.” I shrug, not wanting to dive into those darker days when I didn’t have Tucker to make me smile. “But it’s all for show.”

Kaya nods, her eyes still locked on my every move.

“I get to do what I love, entertain people all over, and make them fall in love with food in a new way.”

Her soft chuckle filters through the air. “Oh, I’m sure they love more than your prowess and recipes.”

I pause and wait until her gaze meets mine. “Not interested in whattheylove.”

Her stare sears my soul a beat before she swallows. “What about me?”

Slightly confused and speechless, I tilt my head.

“Would you cook like that… for me?”

Well, damn.

At every turn, Kaya surprises me with the unexpected. She’s soft but unshakable, timid yet daring, brilliant and levelheaded. One moment, she comes off as hesitant, bashful. The next, she’s a fiery storm of brazen, undiluted desire.

Fuck if she doesn’t make me want to dive in headfirst and drown in her.

“Definitely.” With a jerk of my chin, I say, “Come here.”

Her eyes dart between mine as she pushes away from the counter and eases off the stool. With slow, measured steps, she rounds the island and comes to my side.

Shuffling back, I take her hand, haul her forward until she’s pressed between me and the counter, and then plant my hands on either side of her, caging her in. I lower the tip of my nose to the side of her neck, trace her soft skin, and breathe her in. She sucks in a sharp breath.

My nose trails the shell of her ear. “Pick up the knife, Fire Eyes.”

She hesitates, but only for a beat. Her dainty fingers wrap around the hilt of the knife.

I shift impossibly closer. Press every inch of me to her. Mold my body to hers. Cover both her hands with mine and guide her through cutting the rest of the ingredients.

With each rock of the blade on the cutting board, her breaths come quicker, a touch louder. Shameless.

My lips hover a breath from her ear. “Tuck the tips of your fingers,” I instruct, and she does. I press my lips softly to the skin beneath her ear. “Good girl.”

Every nerve ending in my body is a live wire when we cut through the last piece of sirloin. Not an inch of space exists between my body and hers. My cock thick, heavy, needy as it presses her backside.

Her breasts rise and fall harsher, faster, desperate for more than just oxygen.

I set the knife aside, snake my arms around her waist, and dip my head until my lips ghost her skin.Kiss.“Exquisite.”Kiss.“Divine.”Kiss.It’s on the tip of my tongue to saymine, but I refrain. For now. “Flawless.”

Her hands on my arms loosen my hold. My pulse hammers for a different reason as she shifts in place and spins around. Before I open my mouth to apologize or ask if I did something wrong, her palms cup my cheeks as she pushes up on her toes and claims my mouth.

Ecstasy floods my bloodstream as her tongue tangles with mine. I bend slightly at the knees, engulf her in my arms, and hoist her off the floor. She tugs at the skirt of her dress a moment before her legs wrap around my waist, her arms circling my neck.

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