I follow him to the kitchen and fix a cup of coffee.
The beverage does nothing to chase away the uneasy feeling in my gut. I want to know Miles's thoughts but that's not part of our arrangement.
He nudges me with his shoulder. "You're more obvious than you think you are, Meg."
He brushes his hand over my lower back. Damn, I want that hand on me.
I try to play it cool. Focus on my coffee. Sit at the perfect kitchen table. Ignore the fact that Miles is wearing boxers. He could be doing it to seduce me or to drive me mad.
I smile and sip my drink. I am the epitome of cool. I could not be more cool.
He opens the fridge and pulls out a carton of eggs. "Scrambled okay?"
"That's fine."
He takes a perfect white bowl from a cabinet, cracks half a dozen perfect white eggs, and stirs with a perfect white whisk.
His back is to me. His muscles are ever so slightly flexed. Those are strong shoulders and lats. He must do a lot more to work out than run.
My mind flashes with another set of images. These are more appealing. Miles in all sorts of compromising positions with me, his muscles flexed, his breath strained.
Miles turns off the stove and scoops the eggs onto two perfect white plates and sets them on the table. They're good—fluffy and cooked just right. Better than anything I can cook.
We eat in silence. Tension hangs over the table. Does he expect me to explain what happened last night? I want to, but only if he'll let me in too. Only if we'll be more than fuck buddies.
I finish my last bite and set my fork next to my plate. "Thanks for breakfast."
"Are you still hungry?"
"I have food at home."
Miles makes a show of pushing out of his seat slowly. The sunlight falls over his body just so. His torso looks even more defined. His back looks stronger.
Somehow, he looks even more attractive.
Miles pulls a carton of strawberries from the fridge, rinses them in a perfect white colander, and pours them onto an equally perfect white plate. "I can't let you go home until I'm done with you."
I lick my lips. He watches me, grinning.
Ahem. "Done how?"
"Last time I went for four, but I do like to break records."
That heat is back. This time, I do nothing to fight it. My skin tingles, desperate for his touch.
His eyes pass over my body. There's nothing I can do to hide my reaction now. I want him and badly.
I take one of the strawberries and press it to my lips. The flesh is soft and sweet. There's some way I'm supposed to react here, but I don't know what it is.
Miles laughs. "You're nervous again. It's cute."
I eat the damn strawberry. So much for matching his advanced-level seduction. "That's one opinion on the matter."
He slides his tongue over the tip of a berry and sucks on it like it's some part of me.
He wants to break a record. That means five orgasms. He must mean today. Five orgasms in one screw would kill me.
He moves closer, undoes my top button, presses his lips against my neck. "You were begging me last night."