And she had missed it.
Without opening her eyes, she shoved the other half of the strip into her mouth and took her time chewing it, savoring the smoky but sweet taste. Maple. That’s what the sweetness was.
“If only a woman’s face would look like that while suckin’ my dick.”
Stella’s eyes popped open and met Trip’s. “Is that a joke?”
“If you saw your face while you ate that fuckin’ bacon, then you’d know it wasn’t.”
She busied herself with chasing the bacon down with a mouthful of coffee. That was good, too. Trip hadn’t used a generic bag of coffee to make that pot.
“Coffee must be good, too.”
“It’s okay.”
Trip grinned around a mouthful of eggs. “Eggs are from the Amish. They’ve been bringin’ me a dozen or two every week when they come out to work. Gonna get a regular supply of ‘em from them, along with some of their meats and dairy. Possibly even some veggies and fruit they grow. Keep the kitchen in the barn stocked with shit so the guys don’t only have a diet of whiskey, beer, pussy and pot.”
She choked on the bite of egg she was chewing. She helped it down with another gulp of coffee.
“Speakin’ of pussy...”
He surged from his chair, came around the table, and before she could react, he drove his fingers into the hair by her ears, fisted them and pulled her head back, dropping his.
Her objection of what he was about to do became muffled when his lips crushed hers. He tasted like a delicious mix of coffee, bacon and sweetness as their tongues touched. When he pushed forward, she pushed back.
She shouldn’t be enjoying the kiss, but it was rough and thorough, just how she liked them. But the problem wasn’t the kiss. It was with who was kissing her.
When he was done, he pulled away just slightly, letting her catch her breath, but left his fingers tangled tightly in her hair, enough to feel that delicious pull. Enough to not only make her scalp tingle but everything else, too.
His gaze locked with hers as his low voice sent heat spiraling into her belly. “You never got that kiss twenty years ago. I never got it the other night. Now that we got that outta the way, I can concentrate on breakfast.”
He released her and her eyes followed him as he went back to his seat and sat down, then shoved another forkful of eggs into his mouth.
The mouth that had made her nipples pebble and her pussy clench hard.
That mouth.
The mouth that had bitten her the other night and left bruises in its path. Reminders that what they had done had been a mistake.
“It was a mistake.”
He finished chewing, lifted his mug to his lips and took a long sip. When he was done, he said, “Yeah, you’re right. It was.” He put the mug down next to his plate and sat back in his chair, tilting his head as he studied her across the table. “Our fathers—both yours and mine—taught me to never put my hands on a woman in anger. And that was my fuckin’ mistake.”
“It wasn’t just the—”
“Both times I’ve done it, it’s been with you.”
His expression turned troubled. Was it guilt?
“Why is that, Trip?”
He shoved his last piece of bacon into his mouth and said nothing.
She pushed her chair back and rose, grabbing her plate. She scraped what she didn’t eat—couldn’t, after that kiss—into the trash and went to the sink. She needed some space between them when they discussed what she came to talk about. “We need to talk about the other night.”
“Probably shouldn’t.”
His chair scraped back, but she remained facing the sink, bracing herself.
Damn it, he was going to close that space she created. She needed to talk fast. “I just want to make it clear.” She turned and saw him on the move, heading toward her, carrying his now empty plate. “What we did meant nothing. I need to remind you that you don’t own me. I’m not property. I’m not an ol’ lady. I’m not a sweet butt, patch whore or a piece. Not even a backpack.”
His face remained neutral as he brushed against her, putting his plate in the sink. “Got it.”
Her blood began to hum with how close he was. Since he still faced the sink, his right hip was pinned to her left. “It was just a slip-up. I was tired, frustrated and stressed. And then you showed up and...”
“’Kay.”
She expected him to move away, but he remained, the heat from his bare torso searing her side through her well-worn, but treasured, Nirvana tank top. She should move away but she couldn’t. It was like he was a magnet and she was metal.
She fought that strong pull and forced herself to continue. “But that’s all it was. A mistake.” More of a reminder to herself than one to him.