Spider Game Page 47


He drew in his breath as he used his finger to indicate for her to turn slowly. She complied. Her long hair fell down her back, silken waves she’d tamed with a dryer, reaching past her waist to skim the sweet curve of her ass. He definitely was fixating on her body. He reached down and cupped both cheeks, kneading with his fingers, sinking deep, claiming that part of her for his own as well.

“I can’t imagine that we aren’t going to whip up a masterpiece with you in that outfit.” His apron wasn’t lacy, but the material was white and black checkerboard and when his cock was soft the entire crown peeked out under the apron. When it was hard, his cock nestled in the fabric as if being caressed, pushing against the stretchy material.

“Are you certain about this, Trap?”

“Absolutely. Do you drink coffee?”

She frowned. Shook her head. “It always smelled good when others had it in mugs, but no, I was never given coffee.”

“What about chocolate?”

She shook her head again.

“Whipped cream?”

“No.”

“Whipped cream is a specialty item, baby. It can be used for all sorts of things. It can go on top of your coffee, a dessert, in a crepe, or all over me or you so the other one can have the fun of licking it off. Then there’s chocolate sauce or fudge.”

“I’m beginning to see a pattern here, Trap,” she said. “Does everything revolve around sex?”

He flashed a grin. “Now you’re getting it. Come on. I’ll make you some chocolate and you can try that while I whip us up some eggs and potatoes.”

“I want to learn, Trap. I spent the night reading articles about families and cooking and making a home. There are magazines online that specialize in things like that. I’m pretty certain I can turn what I read into practical experience.” She glanced around the kitchen a little ruefully. “I was thinking about where I went wrong this morning. I tried to do too many things at the same time, didn’t I?”

He couldn’t help himself. He curled his fingers around the nape of her neck and drew her to him. “What you did was perfect for so many reasons I can’t even tell you.”

Her eyes went soft. Happy. The tension in her eased. “Even though I totally screwed up, it meant something to you then?”

“Yeah, baby.” He pulled her tight against his chest, just holding her there where she couldn’t see his face. He was a GhostWalker, and normally he didn’t give a damn about anything, so it was easy enough to keep his features a stone wall. There was no hiding what her gesture meant to him. All he could do was hold her tight against him and bury his face in her wealth of hair. He nuzzled the top of the red hourglass nestled in all that black silk. “It meant a fuck of a lot.”

She slipped her arms around him and held his back. Melted into him. She felt soft and warm and his. Suddenly, it wasn’t about sex, and no matter how subconsciously he tried to make it that, he knew he’d slipped past falling and right into gone. Abruptly he pulled back, caught her around the waist and planted her sweet little ass on the center aisle.

“Sit there and observe your master.”

She laughed softly, and the sound felt like music. He glanced sideways at her as he pulled out a mixing bowl, which he filled with cold water and a grater.

“I’m going to put you to work. You can grate the potatoes right into the cold water while I fix the eggs.”

“You’re removing the starch with the cold water.”

He flashed an approving smile over his shoulder as he quickly washed four potatoes at the sink and handed them off to her. “You do have your alarm system spread around the complex outside, right?”

She nodded, frowning as she slowly began to grate the potatoes, finding a quicker rhythm and sticking with it. “Of course. I like to know what’s coming at me. I’ve got feelers outside the fence as well as inside. No one will get close without us knowing. Why, are you worried we’ll be attacked?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m worried my team will come check on me, and they don’t get to see you looking like this.”

“I thought you liked this apron.”

He paused in the act of breaking an egg into a mixing bowl, his gaze moving over her as she sat there, grating the potatoes for him. Every moment sent her breasts swaying invitingly beneath the stretchy lace. He set the bowl aside, placed a hand on the island surface on either side of her body and leaned in close. So close it forced her body to tip back. To catch herself she had to put her hands back behind her, thrusting her breasts upward. He took the offering, settling his mouth around her right breast, right through the lace.

The apron and this body are for me. Not for my friends. Not for anyone else. You don’t show it to them. You don’t share it with them. It’s mine. You’re mine.

She made a soft sound and caught his head, cradling it to her with one hand as she tipped farther back on the island. He followed her body, leaning over her.

Now you’re just making me hungry for all that honey. I could have breakfast a different way, and then go back to your cooking lesson.

Instantly he felt her body go from soft and pliant to tense. He wanted to groan in sheer frustration. Blood pounded through his veins and filled his cock with need.

Baby, your first time with me is going to be in my bed, not in the kitchen, although we’re going to be spending a lot of time in here later. Lots of island space, the table, counters.

He trailed kisses from her breast up to her chin. Biting gently, he kissed his way to her mouth and caught her lower lip between his teeth. Are you going to sleep in my bed tonight? All night?

There was a small hesitation. His teeth bit down just a little harder. Tugged on her full lower lip. I want to spend hours making you feel good, baby, and then I want to hold you close while we both fall asleep. Are you going to give me that?

I’m really afraid.

I know you are, Cayenne. But you have to trust me sometime. I’ll take care of you, I promise that. Say you’ll spend the night in my bed. I know if you promise you’ll keep your word.

What if I’m so scared I bite you?

Then I’ll spank your pretty little ass very hard. After, I’ll make certain you’re feeling good all over again, but you won’t bite me again because your hot little bottom will remind you not to.

How can you make everything sound hot? In your mind it even feels hot.

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