Page 334 of Breaking the Rules
She fills the bowl with water, puts it in the microwave, hits the two minute button, gets to work on the next. "You're going to hate it."
"Not with how much you love it."
"This isn't emo music."
"It's not?"
She laughs. "You're lucky you're so handsome."
"Most of what I've got going for me."
Her eyes find mine. She shoots me that look. The one that meansI love you. "Yeah." She leaves the bowl on the counter. Moves back to the breakfast table.
My fingers brush her wrist.
I wrap my hand around it.
Pull her into my lap.
She giggles as she slides her arm around my neck. "Hey."
"Hey." I look up at her. Brush her long hair behind her ear. Rest my palm on her cheek. She's gorgeous, but that's not why I love staring into her eyes. It's that she's Emma. That she's mine. "I have to make this up to you." I motion to my plate of eggs.
"I don't know. It's my fault too. I am your teacher."
She is. She's been teaching me to cook for almost two months now. I've learned a lot, but I'm still terrible. "Maybe I'm unteachable."
"I'm considering that." Her fingers dig into my hair. "At least you're good at following orders."
"You're good at issuing them."
"Don't even."
"You didn't enjoy that?"
Her cheeks flush. "Well, I, uh…"
"You were hot."
"Thank you." She turns her head away from me. "It was fun, but I think this time we shouldn't—"
"You're ready for that?"
"Yeah. I think so." She turns back to me. "Stop asking."
"I have to."
"Do you?"
I nod. I have to know she's okay. To be sure I'm not pushing her. I don't trust myself. Not with all that blood in my cock.
She's too fucking sexy.
It's too easy to let myotherbrain take over.
"How about we… don't talk about that?" The microwave beeps. She slides from my waist, goes to the kitchen, finishes fixing the first bowl of oatmeal.
It's a process. Cocoa powder. Sliced strawberries. Cinnamon.
