Page 75 of Drunk on Love

He bit her ear, and she laughed.

THEY STAYED CURLED UPtogether on the couch like that for a while, until his stomach growled. Margot giggled. Luke didn’t think he’d ever heard her make such an undignified noise. Well, other than about five minutes before.

“Is that your way of telling me you want dinner?” she asked.

He lay back on the couch and pulled her on top of him.

“Absolutely, though I’m going to tell you right now, I refuse to go to the Barrel with you. Your friend Sydney intimidates me.”

She giggled again.

“She intimidates everyone. But no, we absolutely can’t go there right now. First, I don’t want to put clothes on, but second, okay, yes, Sydney will take one look at us and alert the entire bar.”

She pulled herself up, despite his attempts to keep her on top of him.

“I’ll make us pasta.”

He got up, too, and followed her to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to do that, we can order something.”

She was already filling a pot with water.

“I know, but in the time it’ll take for it to get here, I could make us pasta twice over.”

Well, he wasn’t going to complain if a hot, naked woman he’d just had excellent sex with wanted to make him dinner. She bustled around, taking eggs and cheese out of the fridge, and garlic out of the pantry.

“What can I do?”

She smiled at him.

“You can pour us some wine. There’s a bottle open in the fridge.”

He found the bottle, and then dodged around her to reach the wineglasses.

“What else?” he asked as he set her glass on the counter at her right hand.

She looked at him for a second.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you can sit at the counter there and talk to me, and—”

“And get out of your way?” he finished, moving out of the kitchen to sit at the counter.

She laughed.

“Yes, thank you. This kitchen is too small to have more than one person in it at a time.”

He looked at her, standing next to the stove, a glass of wine in one hand, a knife in the other, as she sliced garlic, and bacon sizzled next to her.

“Um. Can I also do one more thing?” He went back in the living room and picked up the silky, clingy, incredibly sexy robe she’d been wearing when he came to her door. “Not that Iwantyou to put clothes on right now,” he said, when he came back into the kitchen, “but I’ve quickly become very attached to those breasts of yours. I don’t want them to get burned.”

She grinned at him and slid the robe on.

“Better?” she asked as she took a sip of her wine and stirred the bacon in the pan.

He shook his head.

“I mean, yes and no. That seems a lot safer, but I miss the view.” He bit his lip. “Though... you look pretty fantastic in that robe, I’m not going to lie.”

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