“Oh! I’m surprised we haven’t crossed paths when I’ve stopped by to feed Hobbes.”
“That’s because I only get the service when I’m in town for long stretches.”
“Well, she does a good job. Here are some veggies and dip, and hummus and whole grain toast points,” she said. “I’ve also got a quiche baking, and I’ll make us a fruit salad. These are all things you can eat, right?”
“Wow! Yeah, this is perfect.”When was the last time someone besides his mom—or someone he paid—had gone all out like this? “God, I’m suddenly ravenous. She’s a guy, by the way.” He dipped a red pepper strip in hummus and chomped.
Lily was back at the counter, chopping fruit; she glanced at him over her shoulder. “Who’s a guy?”
He sidled up behind her and snaked his arms around her waist. “The chef’s a guy.”
She tipped her head to the side, and he kissed a line to her ear, where he nibbled her earlobe.
“Do you cook?” she asked.
“A little, when I have the time.” He ran the tip of his nose along her neck. “Hey, Lily?”
She stopped chopping and sagged against him. “Mmm?”
“Stay with me tonight?”
Was that a flinch? Time for the sales pitch. “Daisy’s at Ivy’s,” he began, “and I don’t have to be at the rink until late tomorrow. If you need to finish anything for Paige, you can do it from here on my computer.”
He’d discovered a few extra-sensitive spots on her neck, and he zeroed in on them. “So what do you say? Don’t go home. It’ll be quiet and lonely there,” he mumbled, skimming his lips and tongue over her skin.
Her hair tickled his nose. God, she smelled good.
“I still need a shower, and I don’t have a change of clothes.” Her sultry voice vibrated like it did when she sang her soulful tunes.
Warmth pooled in his gut and spread downward, firing up his dick. “I have something better than a shower—a soaking tub I’ve never used. Help me break it in. As far as a change of clothes, Sarah has a few things in one of the guest rooms. Or you can wear something of mine or … the outfit you were born in.”
She wiggled her ass against his crotch. “I’m guessing you’re in favor of option three.”
Fuck, she was doing an awesome job of torturing him. Fantasies roared to life, and pictures of everything he imagined doing to her scrolled through his head.
“Got that right.” His voice came out thick, husky. “Can you tell the effect thinking about option three has on me?” Grinding against her, he ran his hands across her thighs, her stomach, her chest before wrapping her middle in a boa-constrictor hold.
A breathy moan escaped her, and she hugged his arms to her. “I’m all yours tonight.”
Excitement surged. He barely got his thoughts corralled before they skipped back to fantasyland.
“And you’ll still be here in the morning when I wake up?”
“Yes, Professor. I’ll still be here.”
Oh, he liked the sound of that.
Night had fallen, cloaking the outside in wintry darkness. Sitting beside Lily at his kitchen counter in his sweatpants and a T-shirt, Gage wolfed down half the quiche. She’d fried up a pound of thick-cut bacon, and he’d polished off most of that too.
He was debating about going for more quiche when he caught her mischievous blue eyes watching him over the rim of her wineglass.
“What?” He grinned. “You’re probably saying to yourself, who is this animal scarfing down everything in sight?”
Shaking her head, she set the wineglass down. “Not at all. Don’t forget, I’ve seen you eat a pile of chicken waffles, or whatever that crap was at IHOP. I’m just enjoying watching you enjoy the food I made for you. There’s something satisfying in that. And for the record, I’m fond of the animal.” Blond eyebrows bounced on her forehead.
Between what she said about feeding him, and the fact she hadn’t minded the dirtier side he’d revealed, his animal dick sprang up, ready for action.
She took the last tiny bite of her quiche and pointed her fork at his plate. “Are you a sequential eater?”
He swiped his napkin across his mouth. “Am I a what?”
“You eat your food sequentially. First the quiche, then the bacon, then the fruit.”
“Because that’s the order I piled them on the plate.” He shrugged. “Simple. Neat. Everything fits in its place.”
“Black-and-white?”
“Pretty much.”
“Is that your philosophy for life, Professor?”
“Pretty much. That and following your moral compass.”
Her brows drew together. “Meaning?”
“If you always follow your moral compass—in other words, if you always do the right thing—the answer to a problem should be a no-brainer.”
“You mean it’s easy?”
“No, not easy, but clear. Straightforward.” He knifed his hand.
“I’m not sure it’s so simple. What about the gray areas?”
“The gray areas become crisper when you do the right thing.”
“What if there’s more than one right answer?”
“You get extra credit.” He grinned.
She tossed her hair back with a musical laugh. God, he loved the sound of her laughter. Rich and full, like her voice.
He slid her plate onto his, deposited the dishes in the sink, and topped off their wineglasses before tilting his chin at her glass. “Grab your wine.” Taking her free hand in his, he led her to the couch and flipped on the fireplace. The gas flames added a cheerful glow to the room.
She eyed his acoustic guitar propped beside the couch. “Play something for me?”
He was suddenly self-conscious. “I’m not good. I just dick around to help me relax.”
“How long have you been playing?”
“Since middle school, I guess, so maybe thirteen, fourteen years?”
She pushed her hair off her face. “Then I doubt you sound like you’re just ‘dicking around.’ C’mon, Professor. Let’s make some music together.”
Something tickled in his chest as he reached over and hoisted his guitar. “I play and you sing?”
Her blue eyes sparkled like diamonds floating on ocean waves. “Let’s do it.”
A flush of excitement raced through him even as doubts churned away in his mind’s crank
