Page 95 of Touch Me

“Fine.” Taking my yoga pants off, I fling them onto a barstool, turning around, and Jace already has a quickened breath and flushed cheeks. “What’s next?”

“Well now I can’t think since you took your pants off.”

“Come on. Chop chop.” I laugh.

“Is that a hint or a really bad pun?”

“That was a hint and a fucking hilarious pun.”

He blows a breath out and shakes his head, to focus I’m assuming. “So I chop everything up, veggies and meat?”

“Right.”

He looks at me expectantly again.

“Oh no. I gave you that one. Start chopping.”

He mumbles something about rule breaking as I slowly walk behind him, examining his setup. I stifle a laugh. Someone’s about to lose his pants.

I wait for him to finish the chopping. “What’s next?”

“Sauté the onion and garlic in olive oil.” He says it so confidently I almost feel bad. But fair is fair.

“Wrong. Drop your pants, Lancaster.”

“What? That’s not wrong. I’ve watched you do this a million times. You always sauté the onion and garlic before adding the meat and veggies.”

“Yes, but not before starting the water for the rice.”

Jace turns around to grab the pan off the stove to fill it with water. “Fuck.”

“Ah ah ah, pants off.” I wag my finger toward his pants.

He grins and drops his pants, tossing them on the barstool with mine. Then he walks his fine ass, clad in gray boxer briefs peeking out of the back of the apron, over to the sink and fills the pan. I lean back on the counter, arms crossed and biting my nail to stop from groping him. I have to squeeze my thighs to ease the ache thrumming in my core. He lights the stove for the water and sets the rice on the counter next to it.

“Now the onions and garlic?”

“Mmmhmm.” I’m afraid to take my hand away from my mouth to talk so a mumble is all he gets.

I watch his muscular ass and back as they shimmy with every stir, crossing my legs to give myself another much needed squeeze. When that’s finished, he reaches for the rest of the ingredients. He stops and waits for my prompt.

“What’s next?” I ask, finger still on the edge of my lip, and he watches my mouth, taking a few deep breaths.

Jace clears his throat. “Meat and then veggies.”

I answer by reaching under my shirt and pulling my panties off, tossing them to the growing pile. Jace clenches his jaw and levels his eyes at me. I’m afraid his death grip on the spatula is going to snap it in half. He breaks eye contact and takes the cutting board of chopped meat and scrapes it into the pan, adding the veggies soon after.

“And now?”

“The rice.” He looks over his shoulder for my answer.

“Right.” He waits for me to lose another article of clothing—I hesitate, and he turns his body fully toward me. “Uh, I’m not wearing a bra. All I have left is the t-shirt. I look down and seeWham!.

That’s fitting.

Jace turns off all the burners. “Get in the bathroom, Cass.”

“What? What about the food?”

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