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“Like what you see?”

“Same as you do,” I sassed back, pushing my ass against his hard dick.

“Damn straight.”

I snorted, and Jon did too.

“Guess I need a new label for myself, huh?”

“Elijah-sexual?” I suggested since Jon had never shown a hint of attraction to another man.

“Yeah.” Jon nibbled my lobe. “We’ll go with that.” He trailed open-mouthed kisses from my ear to my collar bone and back up again, sending a shiver of goose bumps over my bare body, but he pulled his fingers away from my pussy without penetrating me. “Coffee.”

He stepped away, and I huffed in annoyance, my core throbbing.

Jon draped one of Elijah’s shirts over my back before I could turn and complain. “Here.”

Guess he really was focused on that damned cup of Joe.

“I need more clothing than this,” I said with light laughter while sliding my arms through.

“No, you don’t.”

“But—”

“I want you wearing Elijah’s shirt, his scent. Nothing else.”

Well, hot damn.

I turned, gulping at the need in Jon’s eyes trailing over my body as he leisurely stroked himself. My nipples tightened, and I clenched my thighs together.

“Fuck me?” I begged, expecting I wouldn’t be able to sit down for breakfast without leaving a wet smear on the chair otherwise. Then again, considering how easily I became aroused in the cavern, I probably still would.

“Nah.” Jon smirked, and I glowered. “Coffee first. Fucking later.”

“Bastard,” I muttered.

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

One thing about Jon—I trusted him to fulfill his promises and then some.

I made coffee while he put some bacon on to fry, his fingertips trailing over my skin every time he passed, keeping my body heat on high. I cracked the eggs and whipped them into a scramble while he set the table, the muscles of his back flexing along with the ass I loved wrapping my legs around.

Couldn’t wait to do it again.

“Did you hear Elijah return last night?” I asked, spatula in hand, turning my focus on the preheating pan.

“No, but I couldn’t sleep and came down here after you’d passed out, and he was sitting on the couch.”

I glanced over my shoulder, ready to beg for all the hopefully hot details, but Elijah pushed open the slider, letting in a rush of cool, morning air—and the luscious scent of fire and sex.

My mouth watered and knees went weak in a flash.

His naked torso snagged my focus, tanned skin rippling down to the band of his shorts slung low on his narrow hips. I forced my attention off the impressive bulge between his thighs. His gaze held mine as my face heated, and he smiled.

“You’re home,” I heard myself say.

“Yes, and I apologize for leaving without communicating with you.”