Page 74 of The Christmas Wife

I spring up to my feet, and slip again, on the gooey dough this time, slide forward, tilt back, grab hold of a chair which tips over.Gah!The world tilts again; I squeak, throw out a hand, which is grasped. I am pulled upright.

"Steady." There’s amusement in his voice.

"Thank you." I tug on my palm, but his grip tightens around my wrist. He tugs, I careen forward, and he grabs me and swings me up. I wind my legs around his waist.

"Hello, there." He waggles his eyebrows.

"What are you doing?" My voice is breathless. Bloody hell. His dark, edgy, masculine scent entwines with the chocolate-banana notes of the muffin mixture. My mouth waters and it’s not for the muffins. My head spins and I dig my fingers into his shoulders.

He walks to the other side of the table, then plops me on it. He keeps his fingers on my hips. "That’s better."

"For…for what?" I clear my throat.

"For breakfast, of course." He grins, then steps back. He leans around me, grabs the chocolate sauce we bought.

I frown, "I was going to use that to cook."

“I have a better idea.” He holds it upside down, squirts. I glance down to find it dripping into the valley between my breasts.

"Wh…what are you doing?" I gulp.

His lips curl, he drops his head, and licks the sauce from the top of my cleavage toward the hollow of my throat.

"Oh," I stutter.

He sucks on the delicate skin at the base of my neck and I feel the tug all the way down to my core. My pussy spasms and my thighs clench. "W…Weston," I plead.

He pauses, "Do you want me to stop?" He leans back, "Should I leave?" He takes a step back.

I throw out a hand and grab his hip, "Wait."

He tilts his head, "What do you want?"

I want you inside me; I want you to fuck me right here.I blink, "I… I want to complete the recipe I set out to cook."

He frowns, "You want to make breakfast?"

"Y...yeah," I nod, "it’s a new recipe I’m trying out for?—"

He scratches his chest and my gaze drops to those cut abs. Not that I hadn’t noticed them before... I mean, I’d managed to look away though, so he wouldn’t catch me staring, but now that he’s drawing attention to it, well… I can’t help but stare. "For a doctor you sure have a great physique."

"For a chef, you sure haven’t figured out the obvious."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"You were making… What was it you were going to create?"

"Muffins." I frown, "Banana chocolate muffins."

"The oven," he jerks his chin over my shoulder, "the electricity’s not back."

"Oh!"

"And the refrigerator isn't working either," he adds. "Or didn't you notice?"

"I... I didn't," I confess, and I had opened the refrigerator to pull out the ingredients I needed. Hell! I drag my fingers through my hair. "How can I be such a ditz?"

"Maybe your mind was otherwise occupied?" He chuckles.

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