Page 82 of Risk

I peek open my eyes and turn my head to find his space in my bed is empty. His space? He doesn’t have a space in my bed!

I’m simultaneously relieved and disappointed that he’s not here. I refuse to even address why I feel disappointed.

I reach my hand over to where he slept, and the sheet is still warm, meaning he’s not been gone long.

I can’t believe I admitted to him that I was horny, let him screw me senseless, and then fell asleep in his arms.

I consider pulling my duvet over my head and spending the rest of my day hiding in my bed. But my bladder has other ideas.

On a sigh, I get out of bed and head to the bathroom. While I relieve myself and spend a stupid amount of time washing my hands, then brushing my teeth and my hair, I coach myself on what I’m going to say to Kaden.

I’m going to tell him it was a one-off. That I had a great time, but it can’t happen again. It’s not the smart thing to do. We have to think about the babies, and we can’t risk attempting a relationship and it going wrong and things no longer being amicable between us. We need to get along for the sake of our children.

So, no more sex with Kaden.

I take a deep, fortifying breath, open my door, and walk confidently down the hall toward the kitchen, where I can hear Kaden moving around.

Then, I walk into the kitchen, and I’m assaulted with the scent of pancakes being cooked and a half-naked Kaden at the stove, and all of my confidence and strong words and sense evaporate like droplets of water beneath the hot sun.

I am a puddle.

His back is to me. He’s wearing gray track pants that hang dangerously low. They’re perilous for my blood pressure, which is currently rising rapidly. He’s not wearing a shirt. The defined muscles from all the time he spends keeping his body toned are on show for me to see and appreciate. I can see red marks on his skin. Which I know came from me clawing at him when he was pounding into me.

My whole body flushes with desire, and I swear, momentarily, I can almost feel the memory of his cock inside of me.

My thighs clench. With the amount of thigh clenching I’m doing at the moment, I’m gonna be able to crack nuts with these thighs of mine.

He looks over his shoulder and smiles at me. That smile almost does me in.

“Good morning,” he says, putting down the spatula in his hand.

He saunters over to me and presses a kiss on my lips.

I just stand here like a dummy, being thankful for the fact that I brushed my teeth before coming out here.

“I made breakfast. Pancakes okay? They’re almost ready. There’s fresh fruit and juice and your decaf coffee.” He waves a hand in the direction of the kitchen table, where the food awaits me. “Go sit, and I’ll bring them over in a minute.” He kisses me again before going back to the stove.

I walk over to the table and sit down. Perching on the edge of the seat, I try to regain my composure and remind myself of all the things I coached myself on in the bathroom, finding the words I’m going to say to him. Because I have to say these things.

I can’t let him keep kissing me.

Even if it does feel amazing each time his lips touch mine.

And the fact that he’s made me breakfast? No man has ever made me breakfast like this before—and most definitely never after having sex.

Kaden comes over with a plate stacked with delicious-looking pancakes, putting them down on the table between us, and sits across from me.

“You made these?” I ask him stupidly.

Of course he fucking made them. You just watched him cook that last one.

“Yep.” He laughs softly.

My cheeks instantly go pink. “I meant, did you make the batter from scratch or buy the ready-made stuff you add water to?”

“I made them from scratch.”

“Well, they look amazing.”

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