Page 29 of Worth the Fall

"It smells amazing." I lean against his counter, watching him move around the kitchen with surprising confidence. "So maybe your blob-shaped pancakes don't do you justice?"

"The stress baking actually helps with regular cooking," he admits, stirring something that looks suspiciously competent. "Though you might want to reserve judgment until after you taste it."

I set the contracts on his counter, both of us knowing they're just props at this point. The air feels charged, like the moment before a storm breaks.

"Wine?" he offers, already reaching for glasses.

"Please." I accept the glass, our fingers brushing. The small contact sends electricity up my arm. "Though, I should warn you, my alcohol tolerance isn't great. I might start talking about unicorns and princess protocols again."

"Felicity would approve." His eyes crinkle with that smile that never fails to make my stomach flip. "I have to admit, I liked seeing that side of you today."

"Yeah?" I take a sip of wine, gathering courage. "The princess twirling side?"

"All of it." He steps closer, effectively trapping me against the counter. "The way you jumped right into her world. How natural you were with her. How you didn't even blink at dinosaur nugget politics."

My breath catches at his proximity. "Miguel…"

"I kept watching you today," he continues, voice low and intimate, "thinking about how perfectly you fit with us. How right it felt, seeing you with her. And now…"

"And now?" I barely whisper, hyper-aware of how close he's standing.

"Now all I can think about is kissing you." His hand comes up to cup my cheek. "Tell me to stop."

Instead, I set my wineglass down and fist my hands in his shirt, pulling him closer. "Don't you dare stop."

The first press of his lips against mine is gentle, questioning. The second is anything but. He kisses me like he's been thinking about it all day—deep and hungry and just this side of desperate. I make a small sound in the back of my throat that seems to break his control.

His hands slide down to my hips, grabbing two handfuls of my ass and lifting me onto the counter with ease. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his mouth trails down my neck.

"The pasta's going to burn," I manage breathlessly.

"Don't care," he growls against my skin, his hands sliding under my dress. "Been wanting to do this since the last time I kissed you."

"That long?" I gasp as his fingers trace patterns on my inner thigh.

He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, his own dark with want. "Longer. Since the moment you demolished that sugar caddy at the coffee shop." He kisses me again, his tongue moving in a way that has my eyes rolling back in my head. "Since that purple workout outfit," he says between gasps.

"You like that outfit?" I tease, my hand releasing his shirt and slowly drifting farther down.

He chuckles, his rigid cock throbbing against me as he tugs me even harder against him. "Mmm, I can’t tell you how manytimes I imagined taking it off you." His tongue swirls inside my mouth again. "With my teeth."

I laugh, but it turns into a moan as his hand slides higher, brushing against my panties that I’m certain are already soaked. "Very romantic."

"I thought so." He grins against my neck, peppering soft kisses back up to my lips. "But the things I want to do you right now?" He pulls back, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Yes?" I ask softly, his hands settling on either side of my face.

"Maybe we should move this somewhere more comfortable?" He reaches out, gently pushing the edge of my dress off my shoulder. "Unless you're particularly attached to kitchen counter activities?" He plants a kiss on exposed collarbone, sending a surge of need pulsing through me so hard I have to tell myself not to rip this man’s clothes from his body this second.

"Bedroom," I agree, already pushing his shirt up. "Definitely bedroom."

He lifts me easily, my legs still wrapped around his waist. "Sure about this, baby?"

The vulnerability in his voice makes my heart ache and the little addition ofbabyin his gruff tone makes my belly flip. I cup his face in my hands, making him look at me. "Miguel, I've never been more sure of anything."

His answering kiss is searing as he shuts off the stove and carries me down the hall to his bedroom. The moment he sets me down, I'm tugging his shirt over his head, eager to get my hands on him.

"Impatient?" he teases, but his voice is rough with need. He runs his hands through his hair, the movement sending a ripple of movement across his muscles. Dark hair peppers his skin, running down his mouthwatering abs and disappearing beneath his waistband.

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