Saving Kylie

Something about the growled playful command caused her nipples to pebble. Maybe he was loosening up a little when it came to their power exchanges. Cooking pizza wasn’t exactly the same thing as getting him to feel comfortable enough to spank her, but it was a start.

She’d take it.

She cast her eyes down and then looked up through her lashes. His subtly altered stance told her she’d shot and scored. “Yes, sir,” she purred.

His knuckles whitened on the knob as she reached for the hem of her top. He groaned and shook his head. “I’ll be back soon. Very soon.”

She laughed. “I’ll keep your apron warm.”

He stayed outside a good long time, longer than he needed to.

Kylie seemed to delight in reminding him of urges he wasn’t certain he could control, and he had to step back before he went over the line. She might like playing with fire, but he knew better.

Shoveling snow was the kind of backbreaking work that served as a perfect distraction. He cleared the walks and the driveway, then shoveled a path between his house and his neighbor’s. The Shalers had built a snowman at the edge of their lawn, and he added to it, shaping and patting snow until his fingers grew numb in his thin gloves.

When twilight began to descend and he couldn’t stall anymore, he stuck his shovel into a snowbank at the base of the steps and went inside, stomping his boots on the way.

There was something so homey about seeing the glow from the light above the stove down the hall, especially considering he hadn’t turned it on. He could put on every light in the house, and it wouldn’t have the same effect on him as knowing Kylie was bustling around his kitchen as if it were hers.

He unwound his scarf and shed his dripping coat, hanging both over the register in the front hall. His snowy boots and holey socks came off next. He wrung out the hem of his shirt as he walked down the hall to her, his nose already perking up at the smell of fresh, hot coffee.

She stood at the stove, shaping dough in a round pan. He watched while she ladled on tomato sauce, using her fingers to smooth it in. Next came the cheese she’d grated from the block he was reasonably sure he’d had since the beginning of time.

“Like what you see?”

She wiggled her heart-shaped butt, drawing his attention to the fact that his apron parted over her bare ass. The sides of her breasts swelled out beyond the edges of the front panel, and her nipples pressed against the stiff fabric.

Taunting him. Prodding him to act.

She was right there, everything he’d wanted and dreamed of. And he wasn’t even taking her the way she said she needed because he was afraid of losing her, when she wasn’t even his to begin with.

The breath he’d drawn in to answer her question stalled out, and he stared, fisting his hands at his sides.

Her questioning smile faltered. “Ju

stin?”

He stepped forward and took hold of her wrist. Cheese clung to her fingertips, and he brought them to his mouth, nibbling off the cheddar and tasting the leftover spices and tomato from the sauce. “You’re a miracle worker. That tastes like real sauce.”

“I found a jar.” Blushing, she leaned back against him. “Your pantry still has some unexpired stuff in it, thank God. Though I’d really expect more from a master chef like you.”

“Who am I supposed to cook for? Usually it’s just me.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of those hot, young teachers at school who’d be happy to sample your creations.” She said it lightly, but he heard the undercurrent in her tone.

It matched the undercurrents rolling through him, growing in strength and intensity with every passing moment.

He gripped her hips, pressing his thumbs into her soft skin. Not too hard, just enough to clue her in to the direction of his thoughts. She was probably still sore, and he knew it was too soon, too fast. But the part of him that sensed the hourglass draining minute by minute didn’t care.

If he made a mistake, at least he’d made it.

“I’m not looking for a hot, young teacher. That’s not what—who—I want.”

She looked back at him, her hair falling low over her eyes. “Sometimes you settle for the best option out of what’s available,” she said quietly.

Rather than toss back a retort heavier than the moment warranted, he drew her closer and pressed his lips against her ear. “I’m not settling when I have what I want in my sights.” He bit down, softly but firmly, on her earlobe, her small hoop clinking against his teeth. “And maybe I need to claim her the way we both need.”

If she’d given him any indication she wasn’t ready, that he was pushing her too hard, he would’ve backed off. She didn’t.