Page 19 of The Bad Boy of Bluebonnet

“Mmmm. Itwasreally good, wasn’t it?” Her voice went all dreamy. “Wow. Jericho, that was amazing.”

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” he said, hesitating. Did he crawl back into bed with her? Or was Emily the type that just wanted him to go away after she’d been fucked? They didn’t have a relationship bond of any kind – not really. They were just two friendly strangers who decided to get their rocks off after having one date. And even that date hadn’t gone particularly well.

Emily sat up in bed, looking over at him through a nest of well-fucked curls. “Are you leaving?”

“Did you…want me to?”

She shook her head and patted the bed next to her. “Can we cuddle?”

“Do I look like a cuddler?” He asked, amused, but he climbed back into bed next to her.

“As a matter of fact, you do,” she said, snuggling up against his chest when he got into bed. “Every time I see tattoos, I think, gosh, that man needs a cuddle.”

He snorted. “Your definition of cuddle must be different than mine.”

“Mmm. Maybe just parts of you need cuddling.” And incredibly, her hand went to his softening cock and she gave it an interested stroke. “I can think of one particular part.”

He lay back on the tangled sheets, a bit surprised at Emily’s voraciousness. “Have mercy, woman. Give him a few minutes to recover.”

She swung a leg over his hips and began to rock her pussy against him slowly, a mischievous look on her face. “How about I do all the work this time?”

Turns out, Emily’s version of cuddlingwasrather different than his.

Seemed he was a cuddler after all.

~~ * * * ~~

The next morning, Jericho woke up to tangled sheets and an empty bed.

He sat up, his legs a little stiff. Okay, that was surprising. It had been a long time since a woman had worn him out so thoroughly in bed, but Emily was damned near insatiable. They’d made love at least four more times throughout the rest of the night, and he’d run out of condoms and had to use her supply. And when they ran out of those, she’d gone down on her knees and pleasured him with her mouth, simply because she didn’t want the fun to stop.

She was pretty damn amazing, all in all.

Jericho dressed in his wrinkled clothes, noticing that Emily’s robe was no longer on the floor. He headed down the narrow stairs of the old Victorian and heard the sound of something sizzling in the kitchen, just before he caught the scent of bacon.

His mouth watered. Bacon. She’d fucked him until he’d passed out last night and now she was making him bacon? The woman was diabolical.

Jericho rounded a corner to see Emily in the kitchen at the stove, dressed in her fluffy robe. Her hair was messily pulled into a clip and she was barefoot, humming as she scraped something onto a nearby plate.

“Hey,” he said as he headed into the kitchen.

Emily jumped, turning around. She had a skillet in one hand, a spatula in the other, and her face lit up at the sight of him. “Hey you! I was just making breakfast. Are you hungry?”

He rubbed the back of his head, feeling a little uncomfortable. He was never good with morning-afters. Most of his hook-ups were just that, and it usually involved grabbing your things and heading out before things got awkward for either person. “You sure you want me to stick around?”

She pointed at one of the barstools at her breakfast bar with the spatula. “Sit. Eat. I like having someone to cook for.”

He sat, rubbing his hands on the thighs of his jeans. “Thanks.”

“You like your eggs over easy? Medium? Omelet? French toast?”

He rubbed his jaw. “Only way I’ve ever had them are scrambled with lots of ketchup on them to kill the taste.”

She wrinkled her nose. “What did your mom make you for breakfast when you were a kid?”

He felt his mouth curving into a wry smile. “Brownies?”

Emily’s brows pulled together as she considered that. “I guess that’s not so bad—“

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