RISKY PLAY (RED CARD #1) BY RACHEL VAN DYKEN Page 0,50
Stood. Leaned again. Hell, at this rate I was going to be waiting with a red rose clenched between my teeth.
“What smells so good?” Mack’s footsteps sounded down the hall, and then she was facing me. Her hair was in a high ponytail, her simple white T-shirt and boyfriend jeans looked so adorable with her gray Converse that I almost forgot about breakfast and just picked her up into my arms so I could feel her.
“Slade?” She waved a hand in front of my face.
“I like you in Converse best, I think,” I finally answered. “And white. You should wear white all the time.”
She smiled. “Thank you?”
“Welcome.” I beamed. “Now, sit and I’ll share a secret family recipe with you, but”—I grabbed a fork and pointed it at her—“you can’t share the recipe, alright? Or I have to kill you so Grandma Rodriguez’s ghost doesn’t haunt you like it does Uncle Jose—he still screams at night.”
“Seriously?” she said with heavy sarcasm. “What did he do?”
“Posted it on a cooking blog.” I shrugged. “Went to bed and woke up screaming an hour later. Every night, same time, same scream, just ask my aunt. One night we found a rolling pin in his sheets.”
“So? Anyone could have grabbed one from the kitchen.”
“Theirs had just broken—they needed to buy a new one.”
“Oh, so your grandma’s ghost is like Santa, that’s sweet.” She took the coffee I handed her and sipped slowly while I stared at her in disbelief. “What?”
“Sweet?” I started pulling out the French toast. “There’s nothing sweet about a ghost that gives a grown man night terrors.”
“But at least now he has a rolling pin.” She nodded triumphantly. “Right?”
I shook my head. “A ghost is a ghost. Just don’t share it, and you’ll never have to worry about smelling Bengay when you’re trying to fall asleep.”
She spewed coffee back into her cup. “Do I want to know?”
I shuddered. “No.” The French toast had caramelized perfectly. I set a piece onto a plate and dished out more for myself, then handed her a fork. “Eat up.”
“You . . .” She stared at the French toast. “You made me food?”
I shrugged. “You seem hell-bent on getting me to eat. Don’t seem so shocked. I’m just trying to see how many times I can get your mouth to water when you see me—and what better way to do that than with food? Hell, it would make my life if your mouth started . . .” My eyes lowered to her gorgeous pout. “Watering . . . whenever you heard my name.”
She shifted in her seat.
I grinned knowingly.
And then grinned harder when she sent me a seething glare.
She took a bite.
Closed her eyes and let out the most erotic groan I’d ever heard in my entire life.
I clutched the edge of the table with my free hand so I wouldn’t reach for her.
“And that too.” I dug in to my own food with my free hand.
“What?” Her eyes popped open.
“The moan . . . I didn’t get to hear it the way I want to, but I still got to hear it.”
Another bite disappeared into her mouth, and then she licked the caramel off the fork. “You’re manipulative.”
“I know what I want. Big difference.”
She pointed her fork at me. “You’re lucky this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“Does that mean you’re going to moan again?”
“Stop, you’re ruining my moment with this glaze.” She tossed a napkin at my face.
“Should I leave you alone with the entire dish?”
“I don’t trust myself not to go all the way,” she whispered like the dish could hear her. “And nobody wants to see me unbutton my too-tight jeans to make room.”
I smiled. “I don’t know, I think I’d fucking love to see that.”
“Because I’d be partially undressed?”
“No.” I leaned in and licked my lips. “Because nothing looks better than a woman satisfied.”
Her lips parted.
I reached across and swiped my thumb near the corner of her mouth, then sucked the glaze from it. “Don’t you agree?”
“I . . . uh. Yes.”
“I have to go to camp and then practice.” I turned and grabbed my duffel from the floor, then put it in front of my constantly hard dick—her fault. “Enjoy my family’s secrets.”
“Wait.” Her hand jutted out. “Thanks again, it was really . . . sweet. You know, the opposite of what you typically are to other humans.”
“Yeah, deserved that.” I sighed. “Are you ever going to forgive me?”