Listen To Me - Kristen Proby Page 0,36

hope you’re hungry ’cause I’m making waffles.”

“I’m starving.” For you. I want her under me, over me, any way I can get her right now, as long as I’m inside her.

But I sit on a stool at the breakfast bar and watch her bustle about the kitchen.

“Bacon too?” I ask in surprise as she lays strips of the meat on a cookie sheet.

“Of course. Isn’t it illegal to have breakfast without bacon?”

“Watch out, you’ll make me feel special.”

She snorts and shakes her head, returning to her bowl of waffle mix.

“What time do you have to work today?” I ask.

“I’ve been trying to take Sundays off. I have an idea!” She spins, her blue eyes round with excitement. “Let’s stay in bed all day and trade sexual favors for trips to the fridge.”

My lips tilt up into a smile. “That sounds like the best idea I’ve heard in years. But, I can’t. I have to work today.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders sag as her lower lip sticks out in a cute pout, then she turns to pour mix into the waffle iron.

“I’d like to bring you with me.”

“What?” She leans her hips against the counter and crosses her arms. “Where? To work?”

I nod.

“I’ll just be in the way.”

“No you won’t.”

“What will you be doing?” She tilts her head to the side, and I want to bury my face in her neck and kiss her there.

“Max and I have some work to finish up today,” I reply, purposefully evading. I don’t want to tell her who will be in the studio with us today. She might get nervous and decide she doesn’t want to go.

And for reasons I’m not entirely sure of right now, I don’t just want her there today. I need her.

“I want to show you my studio.”

A naughty, slow grin spreads over her face. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

I smirk and let my eyes noticeably travel up and down her body, fucking her with my eyes. When my gaze finds hers again, she’s breathing harder, and her right hand is white-knuckled on the granite. Her eyes are a little glassy.

I want her. The several bouts of lovemaking through the night did nothing to assuage that.

But I also want to show her my life. Because I have a feeling she’s about to become a very big part of it, and as new and confusing as that is, it also feels really good.

“Come with me today,” I say simply.

“Okay.” She smiles softly before plating a waffle and passing it to me, along with butter and syrup. “But first, we eat.”

“I’m going to eat this,” I begin, stuffing a bite in my mouth and groaning in ecstasy. Jesus, she can cook. “And then I’m going to put you in the shower, clean you up, then take you back to the bed and eat you.”

Her eyes whip up to mine. Her nipples are puckered against my shirt.

“And you didn’t ask to borrow that.”

“My bad.”

I grin. “It’s okay. I’ll take it back after breakfast.”

She grins in return, then simply pulls it over her head, folds the shirt, and passes it to me. She’s left standing there in nothing but little black panties.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“No need to wait,” she replies sweetly and takes a bite of her waffle. “It’s a soft shirt.”

“I’ve had it awhile.” God, is that my voice? I sound like an adolescent, only making her smile widen.

She sets her plate down and stretches her arms high about her head, then bends and touches her toes, giving me a prime view of that amazing body, and I can’t stand it anymore. I march around the island, put her over my shoulder, and head for her bathroom.

“What’s happening?” She’s giggling now, making me smile too.

“I know what you were doing, and it worked, sweetness. You have my undivided attention, and you’re about to have much more than that.”

“Promises, promises,” she replies, only laughing more when I slap her ass.

“We might be a little late for work.”

“SO THAT’S THE house,” I say as I lead Addie around to the back of it. “I’ll give you the grand tour later. This is better.”

“Better than the house?” she asks. “Because the house is pretty great from the outside.”

“The back is better,” I assure her, and grin when the pool comes into view. “This is what sold me on the place.”

“The pool?”

I nod. “I like to swim.”

“Makes sense,” she says with a nod. “You have a swimmer’s body.”

I grin down at her. “You love my body.”

“I said

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