Page 30 of Can't Take Moore

“Then trust me to guide you in the right direction, princess. I won’t steer you wrong,” he promised.

“I will.”

“Okay.” He searched my eyes and then nodded, apparently finding in them what he’d hoped to see. “Good.”

“I guess we’d better get going so I can feed my man.”

“Your man,” he murmured, his lips curving into a smile of pure masculine satisfaction. “I like the sound of that.”

“You’d better because I have a feeling you’ll hear it a lot from now on.”

I’d only been teasing, but the flare of satisfaction in his dark eyes made me rethink that. If he really enjoyed hearing me call him my man that much, I was more than willing to go with the nickname. Especially since I understood the effect something so simple could have since I loved when he called me princess.

“Do you need any help getting the stuff to bring over to my place?”

“Yes, please.” I reluctantly stepped away from him to head into the kitchen. Pointing at the cooler bag on the counter, I asked, “Could you bring that out to your car for me?”

“Sure.” He stopped next to me, bending low to nip at my earlobe. “But I want you to go pack a bag so you can spend the night.”

I twisted my neck to smile up at him as I pointed at the weekender tote on one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “I’m already one step ahead of you.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing what else you have planned for me tonight.” He slung my bag over his shoulder and grabbed the cooler. “Do you need anything else?”

I glanced around my kitchen, mentally going through the list of supplies I’d need for the stir-fry. “Do you have a wok?”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “Will a big frying pan do instead?”

“In a pinch, yeah. But for some reason, stir-fry tastes better when it’s made in a wok.” I crossed the room and reached into one of my cabinets to get mine. “Luckily, it’s easy to bring with us.”

“I thought you said you weren’t that great in the kitchen?” he asked as I pulled a bamboo spatula and spoon out of a drawer.

“Not as good as your mom,” I corrected with a grin. “But since her food is amazing, that still leaves me plenty of room to wow you. Plus, stir-fry is hard to mess up, so I have an advantage tonight.”

“Smart and sexy.” He winked at me as he set his palm against my lower back while we walked toward the front of my house together. “I’m a lucky man.”

“My man,” I purred.

“Make that very lucky.”

Our sexual chemistry was supercharged as we drove from my house to his. The air in the car was thick, and I kept pressing my thighs together to ease the ache in my core. But it didn’t do any good. My need for Dean continued to grow until it felt as though my desire was out of control.

My hand shook as I set the wok on his stovetop and placed the utensils on the counter. I’d packed everything together to make it easier to carry my supplies out to the car, so I pulled the bottles of sesame oil and sauces out of the cooler since they needed time to come to room temperature before I started cooking. I grabbed the spices next, and once I was done, there was a nice row of all of my favorite pantry ingredients for stir-fry.

I was still too turned on to trust myself with a sharp knife, and I turned to suggest that we have a cocktail before dinner. Only the words never came out because Dean was much closer than I realized. And he had a hungry look in his dark eyes…just not for food.

12

Dean

“You know, I really like the look of you in my kitchen, Vienna.” Unable to resist, I pulled her close and dipped my head to kiss her. The feel of her soft lips against mine was like a drug I couldn’t get enough of. I realized I enjoyed having her in my space more than I had thought I would. And I’d quickly become addicted to spending time with her every day. She had a killer personality, and I more than liked her delectable, drop-dead sexy body.

I stroked my tongue along the seam of her lips, and she opened for me instantly, just as hungry for my kiss as I was for hers. Would I ever get enough of her sweet taste, her warmth, her intoxicating moans?

Vienna tunneled her fingers in my hair, tousling the strands where it was longer on the top than the close-cut sides. I reveled in the feel of her mussing my hair, giving herself to the pleasure of our kiss. I delighted in the push and pull of our passion, plunging my tongue into the sweet heat of her mouth, thrilling as her tongue met mine, matching me stroke for stroke with those little, breathy moans that never failed to drive me wild with need.

My cock twitched, throbbing and growing harder by the second as I kissed her, molding her supple body against mine. I couldn’t tell where I ended and she began, and that was the way I liked it. Of their own accord, my hands drifted down from the small of her back to cup her perfect bubble butt. It was all muscle from her speed skating, and I delighted in kneading those muscles, feeling how firm they were against my fingers. Every single inch of Vienna was perfect, and I wanted to explore them all over again.

Moaning, she hooked one of her legs around mine, hitching herself up and grinding against my growing erection through our clothes. God, I loved when she did that. It felt so primal, so instinctive, so deliciously wanton. Gripping her thighs, I wrapped both her legs around me and spun to sit her on one of the tall stools at the bar behind us. She nibbled on my bottom lip for a second, then slowly pulled away, dragging her teeth against the sensitive skin of my lip as she did so.

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