Page 27 of Dark Seduction

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” “Sit,” V demands, pulling out a chair for me. I slide into and watch the two of them dance around each other in my tiny kitchen. Burnt slides a plate in front of me a few minutes later with a fork. The smell is a slightly better than his first attempt. Peering down, the steam from the eggs waft up into my vision. Burnt watches intently as I pick up the fork, stab a piece of egg, and pop it into my mouth. The taste of charred bitterness coats my tongue. The more I chew, the more bits of eggshell I crunch.

“How are they?” Burnt’s eyes light up with hope.

“They’re crunchy.” I shrug with a smile.

Burnt’s face falls in disappointment. He reaches for the plate, but I snatch it back from him.

“You made me breakfast. No one has ever done that before,” I admit.

“It’s barely edible.”

“And? It’s the gesture that counts. Seriously. I appreciate you trying. Really, I do.” I take my fork and stab a few more bits of charred, crunchy eggs. As I draw the bite to my mouth, V’s hand reaches out and pushes it away.

“How about we go out for breakfast? I can’t watch you try to stomach those eggs, for our sakes.”

Burnt’s shoulders rise as the tension leaves them. “Thank god, I was afraid that I was about to give you food poisoning our first morning as well, us.”

“You go get dressed,” V demands. “We’ll get this mess cleaned up.”

With a nod, I push away from the table. The second I’m out of the kitchen, the two of them quietly argue about the breakfast. The sound of their disagreement fades away the farther I get. I don’t bother closing the bedroom door behind me after I enter. It’s not like they haven’t seen my naked body before, and to be honest, modesty isn’t something I worry about. I worked hard on the curves that I have.

Padding towards my closet, I pull out one of my ripped band t-shirts, and a pair of jean shorts. Slipping the shorts over my hips, I button them up before pulling my discarded bra from the floor, and putting it on. Adding the band t-shirt over the top, I peer over in my floor-length mirror hanging from the bad of my door. A laugh escaping at the sight of my hair. My normal stick straight black hair pokes out from all different angles. Reaching for my brush on the dresser next to me, I sweep it back in a long, pony tail. With one last satisfied glance, I walk back to the kitchen.

“Damn, baby,” V hisses when he sees me. Burnt freezes with the charred pan still in his hand. It drops to the ground with a loud clunk and roll. V steps forward, pulling me into a deep kiss. His fingers dragging up through the end of my ponytail. He releases me a few moments later.

“What was that about?” I inquire.

“Can’t a man admire his woman?”

Burnt clears his throat. “Our woman,” he reminds V. “But, what he said.”

“Guys, it’s just a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt.”

“Doesn’t matter, Mack. You could wear a paper sack, and I wouldn’t be able to take my eyes off of you.” A warm heat flares over my cheeks.

“I like to see you blush,” he admits in a whisper and a grin. “Ready to go?”

Burnt picks up the pan from the floor and tosses it into the sink. “I’ll take care of that later. Mack deserves a proper meal, and I’m starving.”

V leads the way out of the front door of my apartment. I grab my keys and cell phone from the shelf by the front door as I pass. Burnt brings up the rear, and snatches my keys from my hand to lock the door.

Once downstairs, the two of them start for their bikes. When I don’t follow, Burnt notices immediately.

“What’s wrong?” I point to the two bikes with a finger. “It’s fine,” he reassures me. “You can ride with one of us there, and the other on the way back.”

“Giving you equal time isn’t the problem,” I admit. “I don’t ride on motorcycles.”

V spins around on his heels. “What did you say?”

“I don’t ride motorcycles. I may paint them, but I will never ride on the back of them. They’re death traps, no offense.”

V and Burnt gaze at each other. “That’s going to be a bit of a problem, Mack, if you want to go out for breakfast. I don’t have a car.”

“Neither do I,” Burnt adds in.

“I do,” I smile, peering over at Betty behind me. “I’ll drive.”

BURNT

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