A Sweet Mess - Jayci Lee Page 0,71

rested precariously close to her bottom. Her lungs shrank to the size of marbles, forcing her to resort to short, shallow breaths, and her pulse skipped at the base of her throat.

She drank in the sight of his sleeping face, wonder filling her. He was beautiful. Holding her breath, she lifted her trembling fingers and traced his dark eyebrows, broad forehead, and cheekbones. She stopped at his parted lips, softened by slumber.

Aubrey swallowed, fixating on his mouth. He looked tastier than a chocolate lava cake. What’s the lovers’ protocol for situations like this? She rose up on her elbows and then leaned over to stare at his sleeping face. She worried her bottom lip, deciding what to do. He’d been working so hard, and she wanted him to rest. Despite her selfless intentions, her face kept creeping closer to his. Her lips were only a few millimeters away from his lips when Landon smiled.

“Good morning,” he murmured without opening his eyes.

She drew back with a startled gasp, but he stopped her with his hand in her hair and kissed her. She closed her eyes and joined him in the lovely dream.

The first caress of his lips was gentle and fleeting, but she mewled in frustration and urged him to deepen the kiss. His breath caught in his throat, and he plunged his tongue into her mouth. He tore her T-shirt and shift off with an impatient tug, and his hands were everywhere at once, greedy and rough.

She caught fire in his arms and touched and tasted him with hunger and desperation. She had waited too long and was too starved to savor their reunion. Next time, she would drive him a little mad before she gave him release, and he would love every minute of it. But this time, they satiated their hunger with raw, animal instinct and came hard and fast in each other’s arms, shouts of pleasure filling the room. They slowly returned to reality, breathless and languid.

“I wish I could keep you in bed all day.” Landon leaned his forehead against hers.

“We’ll have tonight.” Aubrey smiled, cupping his cheek for a quick peck. “For now, you need to get out of bed and into the shower. Didn’t you say something about you having a small part in the production of a cooking show? Or were you just trying to impress me?”

“I can’t decide whether you’re an imp or a siren.” He kissed the tip of her nose, his laughter vibrating against her breasts. “And just to clarify, are you impressed?”

“Very impressed,” Aubrey said, and she ground her hips against him.

“Siren. Definitely a siren.”

With a helpless groan, Landon claimed her lips again, and she kissed him right back despite her best intentions. Before she was swept too far adrift, she squirmed and pushed against his chest. He growled in protest and titled his head to nibble her neck.

“You need to go,” she said in between helpless moaning.

Landon reluctantly lifted his head and glanced at the clock. He rolled to the side and swiped his hands down his face.

“Tonight,” he said.

With that promise, he headed for the shower, giving her an excellent view of his delicious bottom. When he ran the water, Aubrey tugged her slip over her head and headed downstairs to fix them some breakfast. They both needed sustenance.

She rummaged around in the kitchen and set about making some croque-madames. Grabbing a brioche loaf, she cut four slices from it, appreciating the fresh bread smell. She missed Comfort Zone and the warm smell of the kitchen in the mornings.

I’ll be back there soon. The thought made her pause with the brioche poised over the hot pan. Where does that leave Landon and me? She shook her head and pushed the thought aside. She’d done enough worrying where they were concerned. She just needed to be for now.

There was nothing like making some béchamel to quiet her mind. Aubrey whisked and whisked the flour and melted butter over low heat until a smooth ball of roux formed, and then she slowly added in the hot milk.

“Please don’t break. Please don’t break.”

Relieved to have the thick, creamy béchamel finished, she heated up the frying pan, scooping a generous pat of butter onto it. The bread turned golden, and the gruyère oozed out between the ham and bread. Then she set about frying some sunny-side-up eggs with which to top the sandwiches. It looked and smelled heavenly, making her mouth water. Although it was heavy with butter and cheese, they’d