Happily Ever After Collection - Melanie Moreland Page 0,8

a reward for you.” I pulled a small pot off the stove and lifted the lid, taking out a bowl and setting it on the counter.

Her eyes widened as I poured out the contents. “Is that chocolate?”

Grinning, I reached over and picked up a piece of angel food cake and dipped it in the warm, molten richness. Slowly, I raised it to her lips. “Open up,” I whispered.

I placed the morsel in her mouth and stifled a groan as her lips closed around my fingers. I felt her tongue gently flick against the tips as she removed all traces of the chocolate from my skin. She closed her eyes, and a low moan escaped her lips after I withdrew my fingers, the skin tingling where her tongue had touched them.

I stood in front of her, immobilized, watching her. Her tongue peeked out, licking her lips.

“I was wrong, Byron.”

“Wrong?”

“Your chicken isn’t the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

I blinked. “You like the chocolate?”

“Not just the chocolate.

“The angel food cake?”

She shook her head as color flooded her cheeks again. She leaned closer, her voice low and husky.

“You, Byron. I like how you taste. It’s…addictive.”

There was no thought. Just reaction. One second, I was standing in front of her; the next, I had her crushed up against me, my lips on hers, my tongue deep in her warm, delectable mouth. I yanked her against me tightly as I explored her sweetness. I vaguely registered the flavor of the chocolate, but I found her own essence far more appealing. I couldn’t get her close enough as our tongues met and danced together, stroking, caressing, never ceasing their movements. She wound her arms around my neck, and I groaned as her hands found their way into my hair, tugging softly and teasing me. Regretfully, I pulled away, my breath coming out in short gasps as I rested my forehead against hers.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” I confessed quietly.

“I’ve wanted you to.” She gently touched my face.

I pulled her closer. “Good.”

“Are you done with me? Is this over?”

I pulled back in shock. “No!” I cupped her face in my hands. “I’ve enjoyed every second of our experiments, Julia. But I ceased to care if you ever got past your love for…that.” I indicated the bag sitting beside us. “All I wanted was more time with you.” I lowered my voice. “To get to know you. To be able to do this…” My mouth closed on hers once again, and for several moments, the world outside the softness of her lips ceased to exist.

She pulled back and looked at me, her chest moving rapidly, her lips swollen. “I’m never going to be like you, Byron. I don’t think I’ll ever love food the way you do.”

I shook my head. “I don’t need you to. I’m thrilled you understand it a little more now, though. And that maybe I can help you keep moving forward.” I drew in a deep breath. “And that perhaps you’d still see me…for me. I want to get to know all about you, and for you to know me. But I still want to cook for you…and take care of you that way. If you’ll let me.”

“I’d like that.” She smiled shyly. “I don’t think I can go back to eating that.” She pointed at the McDonald’s leftovers.

Grinning, I swept the contents from the bag into the garbage bin that was sitting beside us. “Then my work is done.”

“I love watching you cook, you know. And I love how passionate you are about it.”

Beaming, I leaned forward. “I’d be happy to show you something else I’m passionate about,” I murmured against her lips.

I wasn’t expecting the sharp tug as she wrapped her arms back around me and I stumbled forward, bracing my hands on the countertop, only to knock one into the bowl of melted chocolate. I gasped and stood back, watching the chocolate drip from my fingers. I heard a small whimper, and my gaze flew to Julia, who was watching me with hooded eyes, her teeth pressing down into her bottom lip. Holding her gaze, I raised my hand to my mouth and licked the chocolate off one finger. Another whimper escaped her lips. “I suppose I should go and wash this off.” I grinned playfully.

She shook her head furiously. “No.”

“No?” I whispered, my voice raspy. “What should I do, then? How will I ever get it cleaned off?”

Her hand moved and wrapped around my wrist, bringing the chocolate-covered