The truth of it so simply honest, so difficult for her to give.
I was in her kitchen, digging in her fridge for something to make for breakfast when Lilly appeared. I was dressed only in my boxers from yesterday after a quick shower where Lilly stayed in bed, groaning about sore hips and abs and muscles due to all my work—much to the benefit of my ego—when she made her appearance. She was disheveled with her hair down and a mess from curls last night, but she’d washed her face and slipped into leggings and a sweatshirt.
No bra, based on the sway of her breasts as she came to me.
The sight of Lilly stole my breath. Beautiful. Messy. Perfect. Knowing I had a part in messing her up sent a punch of desire to my dick.
“You don’t have eggs,” I said, stupidly, while gaping at her.
“I don’t really like eggs.” Moving to the small coffee pot I’d already readied, she poured her own drink, taking it black. She glanced at me over her shoulder where I still gaped at her like she was naked and it was my first time seeing flesh. “Is that offensive to you?”
“What?”
“That I don’t like eggs.”
Chuckling, I went to her and slid my arm around her, placing my palm at her stomach. “No. But it still reminds me how much we know of each other and how little we don’t. And why didn’t you tell me this the last time?”
She shrugged, a soft pink hue darkening her cheeks. “It’d been a hard day, a hard morning.”
“You’re a nut. I wouldn’t have cared but thank you for telling me now.” I kissed her temple. “Good morning, beautiful.”
She grinned at me over her shoulder. “You already said that.”
“Is there a quota on cared, how many times a day I can?”
The blush on her cheeks burned hotter and darker. Lilly was hard and distrustful. Her softness when she blushed by my words alone made me want to thump my fist to my chest in a barbaric male cry of victory.
“Well, no.”
“Good.” I let her go, playfully patting her ass I liked so much when she moved toward a cupboard.
“The only thing I usually eat for breakfast are bagels and cream cheese. Do you want that?”
We’d barely gotten any sleep last night and it was almost noon already. “What if we get dressed and go get some lunch instead?”
I was starving. My stomach for food. The rest of me for all of her.
She scrunched her nose over the rim of her mug. “What if we order something? Lounge around and watch football all day?”
“You sure?” Color me surprised. I could count on one hand the number of women I dated who truly wanted to watch football all day.
But then—they didn’t have her brother as a football superstar.
“Yeah. Why not?”
If she wasn’t thinking of Josh, I wasn’t going to bring him up.
“Okay.” I walked to her and kissed her nose. “You want to watch here or at my place?”
“Your TV is better.”
“Then finish your coffee and let’s head up instead.”
Ten minutes later, we were in my condo, in my kitchen, and I was digging in my drawers trying to find all my delivery menus even though I had all the apps downloaded to my phone. This way we could look together. “We can order pizza or sub sandwiches. Or I know how much you like the—holy shit.”
I had stood to see what Lilly wanted and she apparently was not hungry for food.
“Did you get warm?” I asked. She was in the living room, naked from her waist up, and a wicked, needy gleam in her eyes.
“I’m not really hungry yet.”
“Oh.” Screw lunch and substance and food and protein. “I’m starving.” I stalked to her, the blush on her cheeks firing down her throat to the top of her chest while she shuffled on her feet. “I know exactly what I’m going to eat. Sit on the edge of the couch, Lilly.”
She complied, collapsing to it like her knees had been too weak to hold her up and looked up at me, eyes already heated, lips parted, nipples hardened into points and jutting from perfect, full breasts.
My dick went rock hard, and I wrapped my hand around my length, to show her what just looking at her did to me. I dropped to my knees in front of her and immediately started tugging down her leggings, kissing the exposed soft flesh of her inner thighs as I bared the rest of