Page 65 of Go Cook Yourself

“Kisses don’t mean I’m eating bread. Hurry up, Garett,” she says, but she’s climbing on me and straddling my lap.

“Neither does fisting my dick.” Her cheeks redden as if she didn’t know she was stroking my length. “Out of curiosity, have we got any condoms left?”

She screws her mouth to the side as if she’s pretending to think before she reaches under my pillow. So that’s where she moved them to in the night. “We’ve got one, so you’d better make this moment last.”

“You’re so demanding.” But the cockiness is yanked out of me as she rips the foil and rolls the condom down my length.

“You have no idea.” She lifts her eyebrows twice quickly. I pick her up and roll her beneath me. She squeals but then grins in a way that pulls at my heart and makes me harder than Ithought possible all at once. “Shame we only have one, as I wanted to see those forearms as you fucked me.”

I flip her so that she’s bent over in front of me. I plant my arms on either side of her as I enter her quickly. If the middle of the night was gentle, then this is anything but. She nips at my forearms as I fill her quickly. I never want this moment to end.

???

“Breakfast is served,” I announce as we meet in the dining area. She’s wearing my shirt over her knickers and… “Oh, fuck. Ruby. You’ve got the hold ups on.”

They grace her upper thighs, and I kneel in front of her. My fingers tease the lace tops until she slaps my hands away. She tucks a finger under my chin, and our eyes meet. “Garett, we’re out of condoms, and we both need to eat.”

My growl makes her laugh long and hard.

“Let me clarify," she replies, wiping away tears of laughter. "We need to eat food, and you’ve prepared this incredible meal for us, so first, we eat.”

“First?” My belly rumbles, but it’s hungry for her.

Her grin as she shakes her head at my lunacy is everything. I want that smile featuring in every one of my memories.

“Breakfast, Garett,” she says, telling me off.

This woman.

I sit on one of the benches, and she slides onto my lap to eat. Her skin is warm against mine, and I hold her against my bare chest as she massacres the eggy bread and pancakes I prepared for her.

“So is this your guilty pleasure food to cook?” she asks as she shoves a piece of pancake in her mouth. There are no delicate-sized pieces. It’s like she’s possessed, and it’s all I can do to eat and not watch her while puffing out my chest with pride.

“Guilty pleasure cooking?”

She moans around a piece of pancake. “Yeah, people have guilty pleasure movies and music. I reckon all incredible chefs have something a bit easy that they like to cook. Maybe something that reminds them of their childhood or a comfort they like to prepare, but it’s something they don’t admit often, and they’d never add it to a menu.”

I chuckle. “The eggy bread is my guilty pleasure, but not because of my childhood. In my early twenties, I’d make this and serve it with fizzy orange pop for Flora when she was bullied at school. It was only eggy bread, but it helped.”

“You really care about her.”

“Yeah. She gave me value. When I had a bad day in the restaurant, fired incompetent staff, or was shouted at by managers or clients, this person would like me for me. I was a dick at times in those restaurants, ruling with an iron thumb, but Flora saw this brilliant big brother type who could cook her favourite comfort foods or make her smile with bad impressions of her actual big brother.”

“Is that how you met Flora, through her brother?”

“Um, yeah.”

Ruby finishes the last bite of her pancake, drops her cutlery like a mic drop, and leans back. Her hold ups brush my skin, but instead of ravaging her, I enjoy the closeness. She puts her hand on mine, the one holding her against me. I brush kisses to her neck, and she tips her head to the side, gifting me more access.

Again, I remind myself this is no-strings sex.

“Was your childhood hideous?” she asks, surprising me.

Even that question is a reprieve from discussing Clive. “Yeah. I counted down the days until I’d leave and then got as far awayfrom my parents as quickly as possible.” Where this topic used to make me grind my teeth, it no longer does.

Weird.

“You suggested last night that they did something fraudulent.” I swallow slowly. I have to tread carefully so I don’t reveal the truth about Clive. I sigh louder than expected, and she stutters, “Sorry, I’m nosey. I like this extra side of you. I like knowing something about my second favourite chef.”

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