Was I supposed to hug her back? The strangeness of the situation proved my lack of emotional foundations. I had no basis for the feelings skating along one after the next. I finallydraped my arms around her waist, my fingertips tracing the ridge of her spine. A shuddering breath skipped beneath my fingers, and Hannah drew back.
“Well. We won’t get any cooking done like this.” A bright, half-smile crossed her features.
I headed over to the other counter. I dumped pancake mix, milk, oil, and an egg in the bowl and began to whisk. “Do you think this is thick enough?” I waited until she looked into the bowl to flick the whisk. Gooey liquid splashed against the side of her cheek.
She jerked away, her hand going to her face. It came away sticky, the goop dripping down her wrist. “You asshole. You did that on purpose.”
“Did I?” I set my pan on the burner and added a pat of butter, swirling it around until it reached the proper temperature.
Her hands fisted, a mutinous glare and the jut of her jaw tempting me to splatter her again. This time, it landed on the curve of her neck and trickled into the valley between her breasts. “Oh, yuck.” She fanned her shirt, giving me an excellent view of her bare tits.
God the woman had a rack meant to be fondled.Stop. I was not an animal.
She mopped up the batter with a wad of paper towels, narrowed her eyes, and rubbed it over my neck and cheek. “Payback’s a bitch.”
I burst out laughing. It rocked through me in a wave, the deepness startling as my chest vibrated. “Is that how you want to play it?” I swept her aside and found the flour in the pantry. One hand delved deep into the powder, the other fending her off when she ran at me with the bowl of eggs she’d whipped together.
“Yeah, that’s how I want to play it.” She slopped the eggs toward me, and I grabbed the edge of the bowl, tearing it from her hands.
I dropped it onto the counter and drizzled flour over her head. “There. You’re a perfect flower.”
“I’ll show you a flower.” She yanked the container from my hands and upended it over my chest. A cloud of white rose around us. I lost sight of her in the fray of battle. White dust drifted in the air, floating in every direction. I waved a hand to clear it.
“You’re ready for your eggs now.” Her glee and the scrape of the bowl against the counter raised both my hands.
I caught her around the waist and dragged her backward. A squeal of protest rushed out, ending with anoomphwhen her ass slammed into my crotch. I fought through the cloud of powder and found her hips, spinning her around and walking her backward until we hit the counter. “That’s not how we play this game.”
“How do you play?” She sounded breathless, excited. Her fingers danced up my arms and hooked into my collar.
My cock rested against her stomach. Her arms at my neck should have felt like a noose. I did not have relationships or one night stands. I avoided most women. But Hannah… damn it all, she turned my thoughts to mush and my body to a volcano ready to erupt. Her breath fluttered over my cheek. The last of the flour dust dissipated, leaving me staring into the ocean of her eyes.
“What are you doing to me?” I locked my palms on the counter, pinning her ass between me and the hard marble.
“Me? You started it.” There it was—the challenge in her eyes and voice. She shifted from a demure, cautious girl to every temptation I should avoid. That dangerous appeal sang to me, a siren song I was powerless to walk away from.
“Yes, I did. Time to finish it.” I slanted my lips over hers, sensations bombarding through me. Her hands fisted in my collar, then released as her arms wound around my neck. I kept my hands on the counter. I knew if I touched her, if I laid a single finger on her body, I would not be able to stop. Already, my resolve was unraveling. Every tiny sound she made in the back of her throat, every scrape of her nails over my scalp, threatened to end me.
Hannah. Her name became a mantra in my head. Her lips parted between mine, and I was helpless to resist the temptation. I tasted her, drank her in as a starving man would fresh water.
Every part of my body that touched hers burned with an unholy fire.
She rubbed her hips from side to side, then rose on her tiptoes to cradle my cock between the apex of her thighs.
I groaned into her mouth and sucked her bottom lip. She melted into me, soft and pliant. Her hands were everywhere. One second, she tangled them in my hair, and the next they dove beneath my shirt and ran over my ribs.
It was only day one.
7
HANNAH
Abolt of pure terror mingled with lust. This was bad. Very, very bad. How could I kiss him like that? How could I not? The man was gorgeous, and the way he smiled turned me inside out. He tasted like coffee and sin. I danced my fingertips along his ribs, feeling the muscles flex and bend beneath my touch. His rock-hard erection throbbed between my thighs.
Arthur abruptly tore his lips from mine. Sapphire blue eyes closed, the ragged rise and fall of his chest matching my own desperate breaths.
I licked my lower lip, tasting him there. Heat flushed onto my cheeks. I reached up to smooth my hair back and found a line of gooey batter near my ear.
“My apologies, Hannah.” The sound of my name startled me. “I’m not usually so forward.” His fingers pressed hard into my skin, almost like he couldn’t bear to let go. Then he pushed away from me, taking a huge step backward. A muscle ticked in his jaw. Once. Twice. He spun on his heel and walked away.