Sleeping late had never been Kathryn’s thing, but it felt good to rest. Jake barely bothered her at all as she slumbered until noon, occasionally bringing her food and checking in on her. He was so solicitous, the opposite of what she thought a Dom was supposed to be, it made her wonder if he really was one.
Later in the afternoon, he gave her a tour of the grounds. His property seemed to go on forever. When they returned to the house, he offered to run any errands she needed, but she declined.
Jake had been the consummate gentlemanly host. And she’d been way too comfortable as his guest. Shocking herself, she unapologetically crashed early, not long after dinner. Apparently, being stalked and attacked exhausted a person.
* * *
The second morning, Kathryn took charge as her early bird brain woke her with the sun. She figured she’d make good with earning her keep, intending to fix them both some breakfast with whatever she could find.
Slinking down the stairs with ninja-like moves in her flannel pajamas, she halted at the entrance to the kitchen and her tip-toed feet fell flat. The alluring aroma of dark, rich coffee hit her like a good-morning smack on the ass.
Sunlight bounced off the shiny surfaces of the gourmet cappuccino machine on the counter, teasing her with a come-hither gleam. Skimming her fingers across it, she murmured, “As if you had to ask. Good morning, you steaming-hot sex machine.”
“Morning.” Jake stepped in from the breakfast nook.
A flush warmed her cheeks. Trying not to gawk was too hard this early in the morning. Damn, he knows how to wear a T-shirt.
“Can I fix you a cup?” he asked.
Eager to show off one of her best skills, she smiled wide. “Oh, not a chance. I worked my way through my first year of college at Starbucks. This baby’s all mine.” Like coming home, she started prepping a drink, then noticed the mug in his hand. “What are you having?”
“Oh no, you don’t. Yours first. I’ll watch and see if I can pick up pointers from a seasoned barista.”
She turned from his charm. Diving into a sweet cappuccino was just the wonderful wakeup she needed.
I could do this blindfolded.
Sneaking a glance at his scruffy mountain-of-muscle glory, she bit her lip through a silent giggle.
“Can I have some cream?” she asked, but he didn’t respond. She caught his naughty grin and shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”
His muscular body closed in. “Nothing,” he said a little too directly, and set his coffee mug down, scooting the creamer across the counter toward her.
Her smile vanished.
I guess he’s not a morning person.
Fumbling about, she finally managed to steam the cream to a thickness that allowed layering it into a leaf over the coffee in her mug. At least she could have a pretty cup of coffee with her first-rate faux pas.
Still facing the machine, she took a taste, but her body began overheating from more than the steaming-hot java. His fingers brushed her hair over her shoulder, letting his words whisper across her neck.
“Wrong question, little kitten. What you really want to know is what am I going to do with you.”
His body touched hers. Well, a very specific and rigid part of his body did. Nearly spilling her coffee, she set it down.
Peering over her shoulder, he admired her artistry. “Impressive. How long will it stay like that?”
“Um, a few minutes.”
She leaned back, sinking into the heat of being blissfully between her coffee and a hard place. His body cloaked hers. His hands tightened around her wrists, keeping hers locked at her sides. Like a wound-up jack-in-the-box, his kiss on her neck popped her butt to his groin.
His low voice rumbled in her ear. “How are you feeling?”
How am I feeling?
Like surrendering to that cannon of a cock giving me the stickup.
She tried to reach back, twisting her wrists to grab more of him, but it was no use. They were hopelessly shackled in his grip.
“Answer the question.” His stern voice feathered the words on her skin.
Her head dropped back to his shoulder. “Oh, I think I’m perfectly fine for . . . whatever you have in mind.”
His teeth tugged her ear. “Then we’ll wait. Until you’re sure.” He released her and stepped back. “Turn around.”
She did as he demanded, panting through her stillness. As his darkening gaze drifted down her body, she tried to remain still.
“We need a safe word,” he said. “What would you like?”
I thought we weren’t doing anything. Not that I’m complaining.
Her parted lips quivered. “R-r-red?”
“I like red.”
He crossed his arms, stretching his cotton sleeves tightly around his biceps, and she sighed.
“You can use that, at any time, for any reason. I’ll never think less of you for using it, but it’ll be a total deal breaker if you need to use it and don’t.” His eyes lost their dark haze—their luster—leaving the emptiness of someone hollow. “Not a mood breaker. A deal breaker. Got it?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“Good.” His eyes reignited, alive with her understanding. “Now,” he said as he leaned back against the counter, “take off your clothes. I’m dying to see you. All of you. Afterward, you can head up to shower while I fix breakfast.”
His lips curled up as he finished the last of his coffee, watching and waiting.
Well, I can’t very well let the man die . . . again.
Her teeth tugged at her full lower lip, not really reining in an ecstatic smile. The wanting gaze of those gorgeous eyes tore through whatever inhibitions she might have had.
“Turn around,” he said. “Slide off your pants. Slowly.”
His instructions were precise, and her compliance was instant. Turning from him, she inched the fabric down her hips, letting her pajama bottoms pool at her feet. She felt the curves of her ass peek from below the flannel shirt. She swore she could feel the heat of his gaze on it.
“Stay there,” he said low.
She sucked in a shuddering breath, holding it as she waited.
“Breathe, kitten.”
Her exhale came out with a giggle. Being around Jake was the only time in her life she’d needed a constant reminder to simply breathe.
The tinkling and swooshing noises of the cappuccino maker filled the air, along with the heavenly scent of java. There she stood, bare-assed, breathing, and filled with so much anticipation, she could burst at any moment.
“Now, the top,” he said, still working the machine.
She unbuttoned the flannel and dropped it to the floor. The whirring of the frother slowed. She waited patiently through the sweet torture.
He didn’t touch her, but the heat of his body radiated. He was so close, she could practically taste him.
“Do you like the way this feels? Waiting? Wondering what’s coming next?”
“Yes.” Her reply was instantaneous.
“Then make it last. Satisfying you is now my job. Your sweet hands and the showerhead are off-limits. Let me give you what you need.” From the base of her neck, his finger traced her spine, forcing a tender cry from her throat. “And you’ll tell me anything and everything you want. Share your fantasies. I want to know you, kitten. Discover you. Understand?”
She could only nod.
“Turn around, Kathryn.”
Her nude body slowly pivoted back to him.
Oh.
My.
God.
Capturing her gasp in her hands, she drank in the buck-naked body of Jake Russo. Technically, she’d seen his body before. But not like this.
Her thirsty gaze drank in his bold and beautiful flesh, taking a candy-land journey over his ripped and rugged body. She paid little attention to the scars she knew were from bullets. Her sights were set on the lick-worthy destination of his jutted howitzer, targeting her without mercy. She took an extra-long blink, closing her eyes to remind herself sternly, His eyes are up there!
She opened them to find her mug of coffee held before her face, froth still intact.
“I’ll take care of your clothes. Take as much or as little time as you want in the shower, and be ready to be thoroughly dazzled by my cooking.”
His sugary-sweet smile sipped again from his own mug as his eyes peered over the rim, twinkling with dirty delight.
Cupping her mug with both hands, she sashayed away.
Gliding her feet along the floor was less for sex appeal and more as part of a silent prayer that she’d be able to make it across the room and up the stairs without toppling over or spilling a steaming-hot drop.