Crave by Erzabet Bishop

him. 
    “Sleep.” He tugged blankets over them both and spooned her from behind. His cock twitched but he ignored it, happy at last to hold her in his arms.
    With a tender kiss on the scar on her right shoulder, he draped his arm over her and let sleep drag him down. Tomorrow would be another day. All he had to do was help keep her alive.

Chapter Five
    Gage scrunched his eyes shut, the evening news blaring in the background. Why he watched it he didn’t know but it felt better having the noise in the background. The club was quiet tonight, and those that were downstairs were subdued and nervous. A murderer was in their midst, and the horrific scene at The Ruins yesterday was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
    He glanced up to watch the footage of the police crawling over the scene like ants. Ridiculous. The lot of them.
    He couldn’t stop thinking of Linnet and the last time they’d spent together in his home. She’d been angry with him. Probably for some dumbass comment he’d made. She had been facing the stove, and he could sense her irritation as she stabbed at the eggs with the spatula. Breakfast was one of the things he most enjoyed about their days off together, but that day something had gotten under her skin. It had been building up to either a fight or a bout of hot make up sex for a few weeks now.
    She had been at her wits’ end with school and the pressure her parents were placing on her to do well. It was starting to show through her perfect veneer of what she interpreted as good submissive behavior. He’d insisted on cooling it on weeknights until the end of the semester.
    They say men don’t have the first clue about how to read a woman’s thoughts. It may be true for the most part. What he did see was the language of frustrated desire in every twist of her wrist, every shift of her feet as she looked anywhere but at him. Her robe was belted tightly around her waist, but with each movement of her hips, her breasts jiggled, and he felt himself begin to grow hard.
    She was right to be angry with him, but he had planned to make it up to her that morning. She just didn’t know it yet.
    “Smells wonderful,” he said, switching on the coffee pot, needing something after a long night at the computer. The warm aroma of percolating coffee permeated the air, and he breathed a mental sigh of relief. The kitchen was spotless, attesting to just how pissed she was at him for taking the same side as her parents. The green marble counters polished bright, and the ginger-colored cabinets gleamed in their newly waxed state.
    Oh, boy.
    Her stance was stiff. She was furious, and it showed.
    “Thanks,” Linnet mumbled, turning her face enough to let him see the firm line of her lips pressed into a frown. She focused her attention back to the pan. The buttery smell of the eggs made his mouth water, but so did the hypnotic movement of her ass under the robe.
    The sizzle of the bacon crisping in the oven about did him in as she bent over to check.  The robe crept up so he could see a hint of her white cotton panties winking from underneath. It was hard to focus on pouring coffee, watching her ass wiggle as she turned the bacon over to let it cook for the last few minutes and drain. God she was so fucking beautiful. She thought because he’d been teaching her the service aspect of submission she’d become something less. How far that had been from the truth.
    She stood up straight, pulling the eggs off the heat and switching off the oven. Watching her move in the kitchen was like watching her dance. Every move was coordinated. Every effort accomplishing at least three things simultaneously.
    She took two plates out of the cupboard and divided the eggs. Linnet popped the pan in the sink and reached into the oven for the bacon tray before he could even add cream to his coffee. It made the front of his jeans uncomfortably tight. He wondered if anyone had ever popped a zipper before breakfast. If it were possible,