color indicated he wasn’t as cool as he was letting on. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and made no move to go anywhere. “I’ve witnessed your most embarrassing sleeping habits. Hell, you’ve drooled all over me in your sleep and I still asked you out on a date.”
Sylvie sat up in bed and grabbed the coffee mug from the nightstand.
“You have to remind me of that,” she mumbled into the cup.
“Why not? It was the day we met.” Nate’s lips turned up in a knowing grin.
The day in question was the day Sylvie had sat beside Nate on a flight to D.C. They had made small talk all throughout the long-haul flight from California. Never had she been more attracted to this combination of boyish charm that hid a dangerous persona. Her assessment of him was spot on as she would soon find out. A knot of excitement formed in her gut when she found out he was living in D.C. and was not just passing through. Not that she had any illusion of seeing him again after the flight. Six hours was too long to maintain chatter and Sylvie nodded off on Nate’s impressive shoulder. She, however, was far from impressive when she woke up and realized she had drooled all over the man’s expensive dress shirt. She offered to pay for dry cleaning, but Nate asked her out for drinks instead. Three months of a scorching hookup ensued, followed by eight years of friendship and over a year of cold war.
“What were you dreaming about?” Nate’s unexpected question snapped her out of her reverie. His arm reached out and his fingers brushed stray locks from her face. “It didn’t seem pleasant.”
“It wasn’t.” Sylvie sighed. “I think my troubles are catching up with me.”
Nate regarded her thoughtfully, his jaw working tensely. “We need to finish our talk. You were not in a receptive mood last night.” He looked at the mug in her hand. “Drink your coffee. I’ll make breakfast. Waffles okay?”
She nodded.
He leaned in and kissed the top of her head before he got up and left the room.
Although Nate hadn’t made any overt sexual moves, she could sense him nudging their relationship into intimate territory that was in no way platonic. Sylvie didn’t know whether she was thrilled or scared.
*****
It took all of Nate’s self-control to walk out of that bedroom. Her pussy exposed for him to see, her legs rumpling the bed covers as she squirmed in her sleep. He was commando under his pajama bottoms, and he’d had to summon all his training to keep his hard-on down. Thankfully, he had made waffles from a box so many times, he didn’t need all his mental faculties to be at 100 percent. Years ago, an ex-girlfriend used his credit card to go shopping at a high-end kitchen store with the hopes of domesticating him. It didn’t work. The ex left with most of the appliances, but at least she left the waffle maker.
The scrape of the barstool alerted him to Sylvie’s presence. He turned and noted in disappointment that she had changed back into her clothes from the night before.
“I left your shirt in your bedroom,” Sylvie said. “I can bring it home with me and wash it if you want.”
Nate sighed his irritation. “We’ve known each other for nine years. Don’t you think we’re past these bullshit niceties?”
She arched a brow. “I’m just being a polite guest.”
“Sylvs.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Cut it out.”
“Okay, then, can I have bacon with those waffles?”
“That’s more like it.” He opened the fridge, grabbed the packet of bacon, and tossed it on the kitchen counter. “Make yourself useful.”
“Hey, I’m the guest.”
“You’re the chef.”
And cue the eye roll . Nate controlled his grin. His little firecracker was so predictable.
“You don’t need to be a chef to cook bacon,” Sylvie grumbled, snatching the packet in question from the countertop. She bumped him with her hip. “Out of the way.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Can you get me that frying
Sylvie sat up in bed and grabbed the coffee mug from the nightstand.
“You have to remind me of that,” she mumbled into the cup.
“Why not? It was the day we met.” Nate’s lips turned up in a knowing grin.
The day in question was the day Sylvie had sat beside Nate on a flight to D.C. They had made small talk all throughout the long-haul flight from California. Never had she been more attracted to this combination of boyish charm that hid a dangerous persona. Her assessment of him was spot on as she would soon find out. A knot of excitement formed in her gut when she found out he was living in D.C. and was not just passing through. Not that she had any illusion of seeing him again after the flight. Six hours was too long to maintain chatter and Sylvie nodded off on Nate’s impressive shoulder. She, however, was far from impressive when she woke up and realized she had drooled all over the man’s expensive dress shirt. She offered to pay for dry cleaning, but Nate asked her out for drinks instead. Three months of a scorching hookup ensued, followed by eight years of friendship and over a year of cold war.
“What were you dreaming about?” Nate’s unexpected question snapped her out of her reverie. His arm reached out and his fingers brushed stray locks from her face. “It didn’t seem pleasant.”
“It wasn’t.” Sylvie sighed. “I think my troubles are catching up with me.”
Nate regarded her thoughtfully, his jaw working tensely. “We need to finish our talk. You were not in a receptive mood last night.” He looked at the mug in her hand. “Drink your coffee. I’ll make breakfast. Waffles okay?”
She nodded.
He leaned in and kissed the top of her head before he got up and left the room.
Although Nate hadn’t made any overt sexual moves, she could sense him nudging their relationship into intimate territory that was in no way platonic. Sylvie didn’t know whether she was thrilled or scared.
*****
It took all of Nate’s self-control to walk out of that bedroom. Her pussy exposed for him to see, her legs rumpling the bed covers as she squirmed in her sleep. He was commando under his pajama bottoms, and he’d had to summon all his training to keep his hard-on down. Thankfully, he had made waffles from a box so many times, he didn’t need all his mental faculties to be at 100 percent. Years ago, an ex-girlfriend used his credit card to go shopping at a high-end kitchen store with the hopes of domesticating him. It didn’t work. The ex left with most of the appliances, but at least she left the waffle maker.
The scrape of the barstool alerted him to Sylvie’s presence. He turned and noted in disappointment that she had changed back into her clothes from the night before.
“I left your shirt in your bedroom,” Sylvie said. “I can bring it home with me and wash it if you want.”
Nate sighed his irritation. “We’ve known each other for nine years. Don’t you think we’re past these bullshit niceties?”
She arched a brow. “I’m just being a polite guest.”
“Sylvs.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Cut it out.”
“Okay, then, can I have bacon with those waffles?”
“That’s more like it.” He opened the fridge, grabbed the packet of bacon, and tossed it on the kitchen counter. “Make yourself useful.”
“Hey, I’m the guest.”
“You’re the chef.”
And cue the eye roll . Nate controlled his grin. His little firecracker was so predictable.
“You don’t need to be a chef to cook bacon,” Sylvie grumbled, snatching the packet in question from the countertop. She bumped him with her hip. “Out of the way.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Can you get me that frying
Similar Books
