Page 101 of Game Misconduct
His grin deepens, warm and cocky. “You’re about to find out.”
I step farther into the kitchen, watching him crack eggs like he’s done it a hundred times.
“Where did I get eggs and bacon?”
“There’s this handy thing called Uber Eats.”
“Ah…so, do you always cook after completely ruining someone’s life in bed?”
He chuckles, low and unhurried. “Only the ones who beg real pretty.”
I arch a brow. “I didn’t beg.”
“You did.” He glances over his shoulder. “Twice.”
Heat flares under my skin. “Cocky much?”
He shrugs, scooping eggs into a hot pan. “When I’m right, I’m right.”
“You’re lucky you’re pretty.”
“Baby, I’m lucky you let me in.”
That stops me. The words hang between us, too raw, too real—and for once, he doesn’t backpedal.
He just flips the eggs.
I clear my throat and cross to the counter, stealing a strip of bacon from the plate beside him. “So you make a habit of early morning kitchen takeovers?”
“Only in penthouses I’ve fantasized about for weeks.”
I nearly choke on the bite.
He smirks, sliding the eggs onto two plates with an ease that makes it all feel terrifyingly normal.
“I used to dream about what it’d be like up here. What you were doing. If you ever thought about me the way I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
My voice comes out quiet. “I did. All the time. I couldn’t stop it.”
His jaw flexes, but he nods. “I know.”
He hands me a plate, and we sit at the bar, bare knees brushing under the marble counter.
That tiny contact sends a low pulse through me—heat and history and something dangerous.
A flash from last night echoes in my mind—his voice rough in the dark, his hands locked on my hips, telling me to take what I want.
For a few minutes, the only sound is quiet chewing and the low hum of the city below waking up.
But then it starts to crack.
The silence.
The spell.
Because now we’re in daylight. And daylight doesn’t lie.
The shift would be imperceptible to anyone else, but not to me. I can already feel Maddox’s guard returning.
