Page 64 of Go Cook Yourself

I prowl closer as if he’s not the boss of me, although he totally is. I straddle him, positioning my entrance at his now sheathed cock. “What do you want, Garett? Say the words.”

“I want you to slide—”

But I don’t give him a chance to finish. Instead, I drop down onto him, filling myself instantly. I knew it’d hurt—he’s bigger than all my toys—but I don’t care. It was worth it to watch his eyes roll back in his head and hear his gasps of desperation.

“Even when you’re torturing me, you’re the sexiest woman that ever existed.”

I grin and begin to ride him slowly. I’m grinding against him, using my thighs to ease myself onto him again.

His fingers grip my hips before moving to my bum and then back to my hips. It’s like he doesn’t know what he wants to touch more. I put my hands on either side of his head, desperate forthat scent of cinnamon that never leaves him. It’s embossed on my heart, just like this moment.

“You’re fucking beautiful, Rubes. I want your perfect thighs to wear the imprint of my fingers. I will dream about you soaking me for the rest of my life. Does my dick feel good, baby?”

I nod, my forehead tight with desperation for more as words refuse to fall from my mouth.

“You’re stunning. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met,” he murmurs, and I feel it because of him.

His lips caress my neck like he already knows I love it, and his hands move into my hair, slightly pulling it before breathing me in.

“I’ve longed to be close enough to touch you and caress you, and I’m so fucking lucky that I get to be inside you and watch how beautiful you are when you’re aroused. Because you are beautiful, baby, you’re fucking stunning.”

I can’t believe that this guy whose tongue is like licks of fire against my skin is my friend who fixes my car light and cares about my family. He has more skills in this room than in the kitchen, and that’s saying something.

He holds my body against him with his mouth-wateringly sexy forearms. I can’t see them, but they feel amazing. He pushes up, penetrating me faster and faster. I’m like jelly as my body can no longer sustain all the pleasure he’s offering me.

“Your pussy is perfect.” He bites my neck, and I cry out. I’m going to wear so many of his marks tomorrow. His stubble when he was between my thighs must have left a scratch that I can’t wait to admire in the mirror tomorrow. “You’re perfect.”

I can barely moan as my second orgasm hits. I need to predict these better so I have some control over them. But who am I kidding? I’m not in control of anything when Garett is inside me.

“Good girl,” he says as my body jerks against him. “Ride me, you fucking sexy woman.”

His thrusts are more feral as waves of orgasm wash over me repeatedly. “I’m coming,” he says between gritted teeth. He growls in my ear as he thrusts one last time. It’s like every ache leaves him as his body shakes and he collapses underneath me, but throughout everything, his kisses don’t stop.

I know he’s finally back to some form of normality when he whispers in my ear, “You didn’t even shout Martha Stewart when you came.”

I start giggling, but then he adds, “I hope there’s another condom, because once I’ve got my breath back, we need to go again.”

My laughter is caught short by the burn between my thighs. I want him a million times before the sun rises.

I lie down on his chest, giving his nipple a quick bite before he disposes of the condom. Even horny, I need a nap. I start to drift off, naked, with his forearms holding me close, his back rippling against my hands, and his kisses brushing my forehead.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Garett

The rain beating the windows wakes me. Passion fruit kisses filled my dreams and some of my awake hours, too. Multiple times in the night, Ruby gave me glimpses of her technicolour orgasms. I didn’t know they would be the greatest thing I’ve ever witnessed.

I stare at her fluttering eyelashes as she sleeps softly. Her blond hair is more-sexy-night-in-a-hotel than soft, gentle waves. A mixture between a smile and a wince crosses my face. I promised her no-strings sex, and yet my thoughts are anything but. I imagine what she’d wear on a date, the gourmet restaurants I’d take her to when I can afford it, and the kisses I’d steal between spoonfuls of chilli chocolate ganache. This woman reached into years of grumpiness and obliterated it with the sweetness and sass that streams from her. I’ve become someone I only thought I could be when it was just me and Cookie.

The moment I told her about my family, I knew I liked her more than I can admit out loud, but I’ve promised her this moment and no future, and I can’t go back on my word. She still doesn’t know about Clive, and I must protect her. I must hide my feelings so that her family isn’t affected.

Yet my hand cups her face, and she murmurs her happiness even while she sleeps. In our secret hideaway, we can be whoever we want, but after we leave, we must return to acting like two colleagues and nothing more.

As her eyes open, I say something that isn’t a typical conversation between platonic colleagues or the woman you have a one-night stand with, but I can’t stop myself. “Can I make you breakfast?”

“Yes,” she replies with a smile that hits my heart. This reaction is because of the sex. The incredible, mind-bending, life-changing, unforgettable sex. I let go in a way I was too scared to before, and she was with me every step. For now, I’m pretending it’s just the sex making me like this. I will return to being a grumpy arsehole in minutes. “I need whatever you can rustle up, and I want it stat.”

Her cheeky face has the most kissable smile I’ve seen, and I cover her with those kisses. Maybe I’ll be a grumpy arsehole tomorrow instead.

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