Page 58 of My So-Called Perfect Life
The pace of his thrust quickens, and the waves grow higher and stronger until they finally crash. I splinter apart around Ryan and dig my nails into his back, scratching down as I come.
Ryan groans as his body stiffens above me. His cock throbs inside me as he comes.
The room is silent other than our heavy breathing as Ryan pulls himself from inside me. My body feels sated and numb. My toes and fingers tingle as Ryan drags me into his chest. His hand runs along my back, and my eyes close as I wonder if it will always be this explosive every time we have sex. If so, I don’t know how or why I’d ever leave this bed.
Chapter Twenty
Danielle
The scent of bacon fillsthe air and draws me from my sleep. I roll over, stretching out my arm to find the other side empty. Well, that explains the smell of bacon. The cool sheets on my skin remind me that I’m naked.
I slept all night, naked, next to Ryan.
It’d be nice if I could say we went another round after that phenomenal first one, but I don’t remember anything past Ryan pulling me into his chest. All night, he was wrapped around me. And I really liked it.
Pulling myself up, I look at the clock. My alarm hasn’t gone off, which means it’s still early.
Six forty a.m.
And Ryan is in the kitchen, cooking breakfast.
This is a first for me. I’ve never had a man make me breakfast. Scott never got himself up early to cook for me before work. Not once.
Butterflies fill my stomach as I hop out of bed, feeling way too cheery as I pad across the hall to the bathroom. There’s a glow in my cheeks and a rat’s nest on my head when I look in the mirror. Turning on the water, I take the quickest shower ever. I can’t go to work looking like I was caught in a hurricane. Or worse—smelling like sex.
By the time I finally make it to the kitchen, Ryan has a plate with pancakes and bacon set on the table. His back is to me as he pulls the coffeepot out and fills a mug. He’s shirtless, and I lean on the doorframe, watching his muscles work as he pours my French vanilla creamer into the mug.
He turns and spots me. The lips that can kiss better than any of the others I’ve had pressed against mine tip into a brilliant smile.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” He walks forward, hands me the cup of coffee, and kisses me. A brief kiss but enough to curl my toes. “There’s no sugar in it. I didn’t know if you took any.”
“No.” I smile back. “This is good. That looks delicious as well.” I nod toward the table.
Ryan steps back and pulls out a chair for me. “Bon appétit.”
The pancakes are a nice golden brown, and the bacon is crisped to perfection, making my mouth water. I sit, and he joins me.
“This was very nice of you. You didn’t have to go through the trouble. I could’ve just grabbed a bagel on the corner on my way to work.”
“It wasn’t any trouble at all,” he says with a laugh. “It was actually extremely easy. You have the most organized kitchen—entire place, actually—I’ve ever seen. ”
A blush slithers up my chest. “I have a bit of an obsession. I like things in order and planned out. Everything has a place, and everything in its place.”
“I like it.”
I glance around the kitchen and see that he put everything away. The pans are drying on the counter in the dish drainer. The pancake mix is nowhere to be seen. The counters are wiped down. My heart flips in my chest at the thought of him respecting my things and cleaning up.
“What time do you have to leave for work?” he asks as I dig into the plate in front of me. “Last night, I only asked what time you had to be up this morning.”
I don’t remember him asking me anything last night past where I wanted him to touch me. “In fifteen minutes,” I answer before shoving a forkful of pancakes in my mouth. “These are so good,” I tell him, not even waiting until I finish what’s in my mouth.
He winks. “My mom is big on breakfast. I’ve been making pancakes for years.”
“You’re hot, you know how to make a womanreallycome, you have a pierced dick, and you can cook? How are you seriously still single?” I ask without thinking before speaking. “Wait, you are single, aren’t you? You don’t have some family out in the suburbs, right?”
He throws his head back, and hearty laughter fills the room. “No, Danielle, I do not have a secret family. I might be a lot of things, but a cheating asshole is not one of them. But it’s very nice to know you think I’m hot and you like my cock.”
The temperature in the room climbs about twenty degrees. I have no filter around this man. Just another thing to add to the list of things he does to my body.
