Search (Page 26)

I cracked three eggs in a blue bowl Toby put down in front of me. I slipped out from under his arm so I could wash my hands, but I missed the closeness instantly. Luckily, he had me back in the same position as I poured the milk and whisked them together with cinnamon. “I don’t remember you hovering so close the last time we cooked. And aren’t you the one who’s supposed to be cooking?”

“You ran right in and started. I assumed you’d rather do it yourself. And I know you don’t mind where I’m standing.” He brushed his lips against my neck. “And I prefer it to watching you from a distance, although considering what you’re wearing, I wouldn’t mind that either.”

I dipped the first piece of bread, getting a little bit of the mixture on my hand. I used the same hand to dip the next one. Four slices in, Toby had his hand gently running up and down my upper leg. My body shivered in anticipation as he moved it closer to my thigh each time before moving it away. By the time I finished placing the last slice on the griddle, he’d reached my upper thigh.

“You aren’t easily distracted.” His voice was low and husky, and I could feel the complete evidence of his arousal against my back.

“Oh, I’m distracted.” I struggled to keep my voice steady, and to stop myself from turning around.

“Yeah? Well, you don’t seem it. I’ll have to keep trying.” His hand moved to my inner thigh, and I let out a small gasp and leaned back harder against him. “Now you’re distracted.”

“I have to flip the French toast.” I forced myself upright. His fingers hadn’t even slipped beneath my panties, but my body was responding. I wanted him so bad I was ready to give up on our breakfast.

“Go ahead. Don’t mind me.”

“Toby.”

“Yes?”

“You’re distracting me.”

“Good.” He moved his hand and stepped back. “I need to be able to distract you.”

“You do it well.” I flipped the French toast, noticing that two of the slices were a little bit browner than I’d like. Totally worth it.

A few minutes later, we were seated at his table. For some reason, nothing seemed strange or awkward about the situation. I was sitting there in only a t-shirt, across from a guy only in his underwear, eating French toast.

“Delicious.” His eyes raked over me.

“Are you trying to distract me again?” I took a slow bite, giving him some of his treatment back.

He watched me. “Yes.”

“Yet you were so polite last night.”

“You were exhausted. I wasn’t going to push my luck.”

“Yet you are now? What’s gotten into you?” I licked some syrup off my lips.

He set down his fork and was at my side of the table before I could process it. “What’s gotten into me? I lost you by moving too slow. That’s not happening this time.”

“What if you move too fast? Ever think of that?”

“Moving too fast would have been ripping off the little clothing you were wearing last night. You wouldn’t have protested. I see the way you look at me.”

“And I appreciate that you didn’t.”

“Any chance of you expressing that appreciation?” He grinned, making me wonder how much of his talk was teasing.

“Yes.” I pulled his face to mine and kissed him. Neither of us took the kiss slow, and he eagerly allowed me into his mouth. He tasted sweet from our breakfast. He pulled me out of my chair, and I was vaguely aware of him sitting down on the couch with me straddling his lap. My hands roamed his chest while he cupped my breasts through the t-shirt. I mentally willed him to move his hands under, and he did it in record time.

I moaned as his hand fondled my breast, still unwilling to break the kiss. He guided my hand down to his lap, where I quickly slipped it underneath his boxers. He was rock hard and as big as I’d known he’d be from the way he felt pressed against me earlier. His free hand pushed away the cotton fabric of my panties, and I shifted to give him better access. His earlier teasing had left me needing his touch. He pushed in his fingers, finding the perfect spot and leaving me gasping, finally releasing his lips.

He ripped off the t-shirt, clearly too impatient to take it off normally. This was definitely not the Toby I remembered, but I liked it. It was hot, intense, and everything I needed. His lips settled on the breast not captured by his hand, and his hands continued their busy work. I arched back as he pushed me to a place I’d never imagined he’d take me. I yelled out, and he removed his hands with a grin.

I struggled to return my breathing to normal. “Should we move to your bedroom or continue here?”

“Neither.” He gently moved my hand that was still wrapped around him.

“What does that mean?” Surely we weren’t done.

“I told you I wouldn’t move things too fast. How’s this for a good pace?”

“A good pace for me maybe, but not so much for you.”

“I’m sure you’ll more than make it up to me another time.” He carefully lifted me off his lap and stood up. “I’m going to take a quick shower and get dressed.”

The words “can I join you” nearly slipped off my tongue, but I fought them down. He was setting a good pace. I wasn’t going to ruin it.

“Okay. I’ll use your guest shower. I already know that’s where all the good stuff is.”

He chuckled. “Enjoy. Use plenty of the hot water, mine will be cold.”

“Toby! Now you’re going to make me feel bad. You’re the one who said—”

“I know what I said.” He winked. “Can I just join you?”

“You’re asking to take a shower with me?”

I knew what he was doing. Just like the kiss in the kitchen, he wanted me to make the move. I stepped toward him, reaching out to run a finger down his chest. “Yes. But it’s going to be hot.”

“If you’re there, hot is fine with me.” He took my hand and led me back to his bedroom. We were both wearing only underwear, and I moved to take off mine. He pushed away my hand and did it himself, slowly sliding them down my legs. I did the same for him, but I took him in my hand before his boxers reached the carpeted floor.

I had full intention of making it to the shower, but I couldn’t wait anymore. He was too hard and obviously ready, and so was I. Just the simple touch of his hand on my leg as he removed my panties set me on fire. It was all in his plan. The stopping short, everything. And his plan most definitely worked. I pushed him down on the bed. He fell faster than expected. I’d forgotten I now had more strength.