Page 115
Story: Sin City Lights
He sat up and, leaning over her, undid the hooks, one by one, until the sides of the corset parted and her breasts spilled free.
He filled his hands with them. He traced the red marks left by the tight boning.
“These…” He leaned down, blond hair feathering over his forehead as he took one into his mouth. “… are miracles of nature.”
She gasped and arched her back. Cupping the undersides, he brought them together, nuzzling between them, then kissed each one.
She squirmed, realizing where this was going.“I think the ribs are ready.”
“Did someone sayribs?” His hands moved lower, to her waist. He kissed there, too, then gave her a wicked smile, his fingers poised at the spot where he’d recently discovered she was ticklish.
She laughed.“Don’t you dare. I need to feed you.”
His lashes lowered, a smirk curving his mouth.“Great idea.”
Eve covered herself with one hand.“Food, Adam.”
She hopped out of bed and found her panties. “I cooked. It’s an event.”
He chuckled.“That does smell good. My mouth was watering in the hallway.”
“My apologies for the diversion,” she said with a coy smile.
“Divert me like that anytime.”
She bent to pick up his boxers for him, but Adam shook his head.“Ziploc, in my flight bag. I have a fresh set in there.”
Her lips twitched. Of course he did.
She took her red silk robe from a hook by the door. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
Soon, they were seated at her little table, and she was filling his plate with steaming, tender short ribs. This seemed surreal: Adam, in her kitchen, sitting there in a pristine white T-shirt and royal-blue silk shorts.
This was her sanctuary. Never had a man even crossed herthreshold, yet here he was, dwarfing the chair, preparing to eat a meal she’d cooked for him.
And he seemed perfectly comfortable in her space.
She used tongs to plate some ribs for herself, then sat beside him, her heart light.
“How was New Orleans?”
“Dirty by day, romantic at night. I’ll take you there sometime. I think you’d like it.”
She watched intently as he took his first bite.
“This is excellent.” He smiled at her.“I didn’t know you cooked.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I know a few recipes by heart, and that’s about all I’ve got as far as culinary skills.”
He swallowed, then took a sip of orange juice.“It’s not that difficult.”
Her eyebrows lifted.“You can cook?”
A tiny smile. “I can find my way around a kitchen.”
“Why don’t I know this?” She’d never seen him even turn on a burner in his elaborate chef’s kitchen.
He shrugged and grinned.“You never asked.”
He filled his hands with them. He traced the red marks left by the tight boning.
“These…” He leaned down, blond hair feathering over his forehead as he took one into his mouth. “… are miracles of nature.”
She gasped and arched her back. Cupping the undersides, he brought them together, nuzzling between them, then kissed each one.
She squirmed, realizing where this was going.“I think the ribs are ready.”
“Did someone sayribs?” His hands moved lower, to her waist. He kissed there, too, then gave her a wicked smile, his fingers poised at the spot where he’d recently discovered she was ticklish.
She laughed.“Don’t you dare. I need to feed you.”
His lashes lowered, a smirk curving his mouth.“Great idea.”
Eve covered herself with one hand.“Food, Adam.”
She hopped out of bed and found her panties. “I cooked. It’s an event.”
He chuckled.“That does smell good. My mouth was watering in the hallway.”
“My apologies for the diversion,” she said with a coy smile.
“Divert me like that anytime.”
She bent to pick up his boxers for him, but Adam shook his head.“Ziploc, in my flight bag. I have a fresh set in there.”
Her lips twitched. Of course he did.
She took her red silk robe from a hook by the door. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
Soon, they were seated at her little table, and she was filling his plate with steaming, tender short ribs. This seemed surreal: Adam, in her kitchen, sitting there in a pristine white T-shirt and royal-blue silk shorts.
This was her sanctuary. Never had a man even crossed herthreshold, yet here he was, dwarfing the chair, preparing to eat a meal she’d cooked for him.
And he seemed perfectly comfortable in her space.
She used tongs to plate some ribs for herself, then sat beside him, her heart light.
“How was New Orleans?”
“Dirty by day, romantic at night. I’ll take you there sometime. I think you’d like it.”
She watched intently as he took his first bite.
“This is excellent.” He smiled at her.“I didn’t know you cooked.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I know a few recipes by heart, and that’s about all I’ve got as far as culinary skills.”
He swallowed, then took a sip of orange juice.“It’s not that difficult.”
Her eyebrows lifted.“You can cook?”
A tiny smile. “I can find my way around a kitchen.”
“Why don’t I know this?” She’d never seen him even turn on a burner in his elaborate chef’s kitchen.
He shrugged and grinned.“You never asked.”
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