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I sat back, blinking at the concept of an oven timer going off. Nothing had ever been cooked in the
oven at my apartment, and it sure as hell hadn t back home. I d had home-cooked meals a few times
when the neighbor lady three trailer houses down had taken pity on us kids and invited us over. But to
think of Aspen making a home-cooked meal was...unreal.
Food, I said dumbly as my stomach rumbled happily over the idea. Well, hell. She cooked too?
This was too good to be true. What re we eating?
We? Aspen arched her strict, professor eyebrow at me as she stood and smoothed her shirt back
into place. I don t remember inviting you to supper?
Oh, come on. I popped up after her and trailed her into the kitchen like a begging puppy. I m a
poor, deprived college kid. Are you really going to deny this face? I pointed out my puckered lip and
batting eyelashes.
When she glanced over and caught sight of them, she laughed. Oh, my God. You re pathetic.
Okay, fine. You can stay for supper. I have plenty.
After she turned off the timer, she grabbed a set of hot pads, but I snatched them from her. You re
injured. I ll do it.
She frowned. Injured? What re you talking about?
Your arm, I reminded her as I opened the oven. Falling box of books. Gashed shoulder. Fifteen
stiches. Ring a bell?
Her hand fluttered to her shoulder. I don t even notice them anymore. They ve stopped pulling
when I move.
Well, that s good. But just wait until they start itching. After one of my mom s friends put me in
the hospital one time, I oh, shit. Lasagna. You made lasagna?
She blinked. I... Shaking her head, she glanced at the lasagna before turning back to me. Yeah, I
made lasagna. What were you saying about being put in a hospital? How old were you?
I kind of liked the fierce expression on her face, as if she wanted to go defend the past me. I
waved a hand. Oh, ten or so. The point is, I ended up with stiches, and they irritated the hell out of
me when they were ready to come out because they itched so much. But, seriously, how did you know
lasagna was my favorite meal?
I just craved lasagna tonight.
Well, you made enough for an army. I slid it free and set it on the hot plate she d already set up
on the countertop. So, I m saying your subconscious knew I was coming and your telepathy told you
to make me this.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she rested her hip against the counter as she faced me. And I m
saying you re completely ridiculous. She shook her head, her eyes twinkling. You know, when I
first saw you, I had no idea you d be quite this...playful.
I caught her waist and pulled her up against me. Anchoring her bottom against the counter so I
could press into her, I ducked my face and brushed my nose against her neck. I had no idea about a
lot of things about you, so I d say we re even on that score. You are nothing like I thought you d be.
You re better. So...so much better.
When I grasped the hem of her shirt and yanked it up over her head, she yelped out her surprise.
Noel!
I grinned. What? I think we should eat topless. Her hands went to cover her plain white bra, but
I caught her wrists. Don t. My voice was soft. Pleading. I want to see you.
I heard her swallow. Her body trembled against mine. Then she lifted her bright green eyes and
confessed, Then I want to see you too.
I breathed easier. Done. My own shirt was off half a second later.
Eyes widening, Aspen ran her gaze over me with a look of complete awe. Wow.
Feel free to touch, I told her. Because I plan to.
I smoothed my fingers over the ugly black stitches on her shoulder. She shuddered and closed her
eyes, so I kept on, shifting my hand up until I caught hold of the strap of her bra. I slid it off and kissed
the patch of skin it d been hiding. Kissing my way down to the breast it no longer supported, I
brushed the cup aside and took her nipple into my mouth. There, I suckled, making her groan until
finally she touched me back. She curled her hand around the back of my neck, and clung to me while I
tugged gently on her breast.
As my tongue worked over the hard peak, she trailed her hands down my back. When she reached
the waistband of my jeans, she came around to the front, made a tentative sweep over my six-pack and
then popped open the top button of my jeans. That s when I couldn t take it any longer.
You know, we should wait for that lasagna to cool down before we eat it.
We really should, she agreed and kissed my pec, right over my heart as she made a humming
sound in her throat and slid my zipper down. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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