Page 106 of The Elusive Billionaire
“You’re equating how I eat maple syrup as the basis for how I like sex?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I can’t see my face, but I know the moment she catches the wickedness shining in my eyes. Her breath hitches, and the pulse in her neck flutters erratically.
I hold her gaze as I lift the plate and the syrup. “Because it’s time you made some new memories to eradicate your false belief system around food. Grab a glass of milk and silverware, then meet me in front of the fireplace.”
“Patch,” she grumbles.
Ignoring her, I walk out of the kitchen, knowing that I only have a few minutes to prepare for our first date.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SAVVY
Nerves makemy hands shake as I hover in the doorway of the den. Greyson stands, shirtless, in the center of the room with a tablecloth laid out at his feet.
“Come in.” His confidence has me stepping into the room.
With the grace of a predator, he slips behind me to close the pocket doors. The snick of the lock engaging causes goosebumps to sweep my exposed skin.
His hand gently wraps around my elbow, and he guides me to the tablecloth, where he sits on the floor, motioning for me to do the same.
“What’s going on, Grey? It’s the middle of the night, and people are sleeping all around us.”
“Makes it that much more exciting, doesn’t it?”
“Makes what exciting?” I whisper. “Getting caught doing something stupid in our best friends’ home?”
“Our first date.” He leans over the plate and, with the utensils he removes from my hands, cuts the pancakes into bite-sized pieces. Then he dumps a shitload of maple syrup all over them. “It could get messy though.”
I narrow my eyes as he inches closer. He has a sick fascination with food and sex. Grey stabs a piece of blueberrypancake, swirls it around the syrup, and before I can complain, he lifts it to my lips.
Syrup drips in a heavy, sticky glob to the inside of my thigh and his gaze darkens as I open my mouth, allowing him to feed me.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you.” His voice is husky, and my breath catches in my throat when he leans over and licks the syrup from the inside of my thigh.
“Ah…” The second swipe of his tongue has my stomach coiling with need. “When I was ten years old, I wanted to be a librarian.”
His tongue pauses against the soft skin leading to my core, his breath adding sensations to my stimulation and nearly short-circuiting my brain.
“You’d have been one sexy librarian, Sav.” He places an open-mouthed kiss halfway up my thigh, then pulls away.
I know without a mirror that my pupils are blown wide. “This is an…unusual first date.”
“Fitting, don’t you think?” He hands me the fork. “Since we’ve done everything ass-backward, I didn’t think taking you to the diner for meatloaf was going to cut it. Plus, I didn’t want to take ten steps back and then have to wait for sex with you.”
“If this is our first date, then sex is definitely off the table,” I lie. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
“We’ll see. Your turn. Feed me, Monroe.”
Jesus, why is his commanding tone the ringmaster of intense desire?
Scooping up a piece of pancake with as much syrup as I can, I slowly lift it to his mouth, watching as a line of syrup falls from the fork to his abdomen before the bite reaches his lips.
“Did you think of me when you ran back to California?” I’m still whispering, but now it’s more about fearing answers than waking our temporary roommates.
