Page 26 of His to Take

A gentleman should put more than just his seed in his woman’s belly.

I would make sure she ate something heartier today. I pushed myself up and off the couch. As quietly as I could, I raided her cabinets and what was inside her fridge. I didn’t quite know what her tastes were other than what I’d seen last night. She enjoyed fruit, cheese, and wine, but none of those things were proper breakfast foods, at least not on their own. I’d lived by myself for years and I considered myself a reasonably good cook, so I wanted to make her something she’d enjoy.

I decided to make her pancakes. Everyone I knew liked pancakes; it was almost sacrilegious if they didn’t. A stack covered in butter, syrup, and whipped cream was considered better than sex by many people out there.

Supposedly…

I hunted down a large bowl and several pans. I quickly whisked up a nice batter, rationing it out into smaller portions. Then I mixed in some of the berries and other fruits that were left over from the night before. By the time I was pouring the first batch into the hot pan, I heard the soft pitter patter of barefeet brushing against the floor behind me. With a gentle smile, I looked over my shoulder.

Naomi was standing by the doorframe. The sun caught her eyes in such a way that they sparkled. She appeared a little uneasy, and I grinned wider, hoping to alleviate whatever was making her anxious.

As much as I had hoped she might come out of her room naked for me, she had gotten dressed. Ever the professional, she was wearing a purple chiffon button-up blouse and a pair of black slacks. There was a pair of pretty, black kitten heels on her feet. I could tell she was wearing makeup, but it only added to her understated elegance. She brushed a lock of her long brown hair behind her ear. It shone as if she’d spent the whole morning brushing it.

She glanced up at me with a wariness that hadn’t been there last night. I cocked my head, studying her more intently, when she turned away and her cheeks reddened.

Ahhh, now I understood; she was a little embarrassed.

A lot of firsts happened for her last night. I’d taught her things about herself that she likely hadn’t known before.

“I thought I might make you one of my favorite breakfasts,” I grinned. She smiled a tiny bit, her gaze darting to the pan. She furrowed her brow with a glimmer of confusion.

“What are you making?” she asked, her curiosity burning through her shame.

“Pancakes,” I replied.

She repeated the word, her eyes crinkling adorably in the process. She looked at the batter in the pan and back to me, her expression entirely too doubtful. I’d fix that.

“You’ll like them. Trust me,” I added, and her blush deepened. She looked down at the floor, trying to hide it, but I’d seen it anyway.

“I’ll get some plates and silverware,” she said.

“Good girl,” I praised. She stopped dead in her tracks for the briefest of moments, before remembering herself. Her fingers pressed against her belly, and she hazarded a quick glance in my direction before deciding to turn away entirely.

She was so very unsure of herself, and probably of me, too.

I wasn’t deterred by her change in demeanor. I knew it was probably just a result of her shame over what we did together last night, and it was making her want to hide from me a little.

“Why don’t you sit down at the table? Let me take care of you,” I pressed. I whisked a few more berries into the batter, turning my back to her and giving her a respite while I prepped our meal.

“It’s okay. I’d like to help,” she said softly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her glance toward me. She was still, as if she was waiting for me to do something. What was she up to?

“Sure thing. Why don’t you set the table for me? I only need a few more minutes before it’ll be ready.”

Beside me, she rifled through the cabinets and drawers, gathering what she needed before she moved over to the table. When she was done, I watched as she sat down in the chair. My cock hardened at the sight of her wincing from her still-sore bottom. That would likely last another day or two, and the thought brought another smile to my face.

Swallowing down my arousal, I took just a little longer than necessary to load up a plate with freshly made pancakes. I found a container of butter in her fridge, as well as some syrup that had been hidden on one of the shelves.

She lifted a brow as I joined her. With a spatula, I served her a raspberry pancake and a blueberry one. When she reached for her fork and knife, I pressed my hand gently against hers.

“Not just yet,” I advised.

“Oh, okay…” She sat back, clearly unsure as she shifted in her seat. With an easy grin, I topped her pancakes with syrup and butter. When it was ready, I pushed the plate in her direction.

“Like this,” I said.

Her blush stayed painted all over her beautiful face the whole time. I couldn’t get enough of it, of her.

She picked up her fork and knife and I watched as she cut a bite of one and tentatively pressed it in between her lips. She was wary as she started to chew, but that quickly faded away once the flavor hit her tastebuds.

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