Page 22 of Minions and Magic
The sheets had tangled around his waist, leaving his upper body and legs exposed. I drank in the view, admiring the curve of muscles, the dusting of light hair, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. I wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, to trace my finger along his sculpted arms. But there was something I wanted to do more.
Carefully easing my way out of bed, I tip-toed into the bathroom, brushing my teeth before making my way through the bedroom once more and into the kitchen where I tied an apron around my naked body and got to work. The sun had broken free from the horizon when Xavier stumbled from the bedroom, his hair still sleep-tossed, a towel wrapped around his waist, his face clean-shaven.
“Something smells amazing.” He walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing me on the neck.
“Baked French toast casserole with crème fraiche and fresh berries. Oh, and bacon, because nobody seems to eat breakfast anymore without a large serving of meat.” I scooted said meat around the pain with a pair of tongs and reveled in the feel of his skin against mine. From the hard-on poking me in the ass, he was reveling in the feel as well.
“I meantyousmell amazing.” He sniffed my neck, then nipped his way down to my shoulder. “Like sex and toothpaste and powdered sugar.”
Heat rolled in one long wave down my body. The baked French toast could wait. The bacon could wait. But by the time we got done doing the mattress limbo, the puffy soufflé-like pastry would have fallen and become tough and chewy, and the bacon would be cold with congealed grease. As much as I wanted yet another round of sex with Xavier, I couldn’t allow such a magnificent breakfast to be spoiled.
And honestly, I barely had enough time to enjoy a relaxing breakfast before I loaded up my van and got going. If this demon wanted more than one night, we’d have other opportunities for making love. Like maybe tomorrow, the day after the gnome party and two days before the werewolf barbeque. Maybe he’d accompany me to the barbeque. I’d love to introduce him to my sisters. I’d love to have him there by my side.
But first, breakfast.
“You turn the bacon,” I told him, turning in his arms to hand him the tongs. The motion rubbed my naked butt along his erection, and my new position put it in just the right spot.
Ugh. Soufflé. Why couldn’t I just have opened a box of grocery store donuts?
I reluctantly moved away from him. “I’m going to check on the French toast.”
He made an appreciative noise as I bent over to peek into the oven, and I laughed, realizing that I was naked and my apron didn’t exactly go all the way around my body.
“Mind that bacon,” I scolded. “I don’t want it to burn.” Crispy, but not too crispy was how I liked it, and that required a lot of attention.
“I can watch both the bacon and your ass.” He grumbled, although he did turn back to the stove.
“You overcook that bacon and I won’t let you have any brisket at the barbeque,” I told him.WasI taking him to the barbeque? Would he want to go? Would he stick around that long, or take off with some excuse about how this would never work out?
“I make a mean brisket myself.” He shot me a naughty glance before looking down at the bacon. “If I don’t get any of yours then you don’t get any of mine.”
I really wanted some of his, and I didn’t just mean his brisket either, but I could never resist a challenge.
“Bet mine’s better than yours.”
He chuckled. “Your brisket? Or your ass? Because your ass is definitely better than mine. Your brisket most definitely isn’t.”
Oh, this demon was going to get the smackdown of his life.
“Gonna put your money where your mouth is, buster? We’ll let the werewolf alphas judge, because no one knows meat like a werewolf. Dallas, Clinton, and Tink also in the unlikely case there’s a tie.”
“Deal.” His smile was downright naughty. “You win, and you get whatever you want. I win and I get whateverIwant.”
I pulled a bottle out of the fridge and shut the door with my hip. “Anything? Anything I want?”
He nodded. “Anything. Your wish will be my command.”
He bowed and I took the bacon tongs from his hand as he rose, giving him the bottle instead.
“Then it’s a deal. Brisket wars begin tonight, and the winner will be decided Saturday at the barbeque. Now, pop this champagne. I’ve got fresh squeezed juice over on the table if you want mimosas, or we can drink them separately.”
The “table” wasn’t exactly an actual dining room table since I had no such room or piece of furniture. Instead I’d converted one of my stainless steel tables into a makeshift dining spot with a tablecloth, fancy disposable plates and utensils, and a pretty glass candelabra—all courtesy of my catering business. Thankfully the serving dishes were rather pretty since eating on paper plates, no matter how sturdy, didn’t seem particularly romantic.
Note to self: buy dishes and silverware if this lasts more than a few days. Maybe even invest in an actual dining room set.
Why was I so pessimistic? We’d had an amazing time together the last two days. The sex had been mind-blowing. There was nothing in his words or actions to lead me to believe this was just a brief fling for him. I really needed to stop expecting the worst and focus on the positive for once. I needed to dump the baggage of my past horrible relationships and start this one fresh.
The loud pop of the champagne cork broke me out of my reverie.
