Leah nodded, slowly, like she wasn’t sure of what to make of my response. “If you’re going to fake propose to me, just give me a warning.” She handed me the drink back. “Now let’s get cooking. I’m starving.”
She came around the other side of the island to join me at the stove. I realized I had never had a woman in my kitchen with me. The rye was sliding smoothly down my throat and I suddenly felt tense, aware. All these questions, all these moments with Leah, had been fun, flirtatious. She amused me and turned me on.
But the way she had looked at me just now—like she didn’t approve of me—didn’t sit well. I wanted her to like me.
Holy fuck. I wanted her to like me because I liked her.
Emotions were rising to the surface that surprised me and it wasn’t a comfortable feeling. It was like being out sailing and a sudden storm pops up and shoves you off course. And tosses icy ocean water all over your face.
So I did what I’d been doing since I was a kid. Ignore the fuck out of them.
I picked up a water chestnut and held it up to Leah. “Sure you don’t want to try one of these beauties? They’re good plain. Amazing soaked in soy sauce.”
“Get that away from me.” Leah grabbed my wrist and moved my arm out of range of her mouth.
“You should try new things.”
“I’ve tried them. It’s like biting into frozen grass. That sound.” She shuddered. “It’s a nightmare.”
I popped it into my mouth and ate it. “I don’t hear anything.”
“I’ll have a pepper.” She picked a slice off the cutting board and lifted it to her lips.
Then she flicked her tongue over it. “Mmm. Red peppers are delicious.”
She might be fucking with me, but she was damn sexy doing it. I took another sip of my drink. “You seem to be passionate about them.”
“I am.” She sucked the pepper slice. “So much flavor. Do you want to taste?”
She may be talking about vegetables but I had different ideas in mind. The stir-fry could wait. “I’d love a taste.”
Leah held up the pepper.
I bit the end off. Then I drew her fingertip into my mouth and sucked.
Her eyes darkened.
“What vegetable are you passionate about?” she asked, her voice low, gaze drifting to watch me suck her finger before I bit the tip gently and let her go.
“I save my passions for my bedroom.”
“Just your bedroom?” she asked, reaching for another slice of pepper.
I took the cutting board and shifted it to my stovetop, though she did manage to snag one more pepper piece. I took both of our glasses and moved them off of the island to the expanse of countertop next to the stove. Turning back to her, I put my hands on her waist and set her ass down on the marble.
“No. My passions are on full display anywhere I’m with you.”
Then I kissed her, hand slipping under her sweatshirt to discover that she had on no bra. I palmed her nipple and dipped my tongue inside her mouth, wanting her. Now. It had been ten days and every night I’d gone to sleep thinking about how she had tasted.
I stepped back and pulled her sweatshirt off over her head.
“I thought we were eating first,” she said, leaning back on the palms of her hands so that tits thrust forward in open, mouthwatering invitation. “Sazerac, stir-fry, sex. That’s what you said.”
“That wasn’t indicative of order, just desire and intent.” I shifted my hand down into her leggings and teased over her clit. “It wasn’t legal and binding.”
“Don’t corporate talk me,” Leah said.
Damn. I undid my pants. “How about I just fuck you?”