mouth hot on hers. He broke the kiss and dove down to bury his face in her neck, breathing deep. "It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do."
Alison tried to ignore his words, but was afraid they were forever etched in her memory. Her stomach saved her from acknowledging his words when it growled.
He laughed and pressed a kiss to her neck. "That sounded like a bear about to kill a man."
She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Do you like to eat?" He raised his head slowly and stared at her.
"Yes, I find food quite e njoyable”—he looked like he was fighting not to laugh—“ Why don't you let me make something for you?"
" That’s not what I meant ! I mean, I cook. It's what I do. Want some breakfast ?" He arched a brow and nodded. She moved to pass him, but he stopped her by cupping a breast through her nightgown. She stifled a moan as her nipple instantly responded to his touch, hardening in his hot palm. He watched her expression as he pinched and tugged the peak. Only after she gasped and flushed with arousal did he let her go.
"I'm not done with you Alison, and don't forget that I have questions for y ou. And I expect honest answers or else." She left the room and his threatening words on quick feet.
* * *
Rome watched Alison moved around his kitchen as if she'd been his cook for years. She found all the utensils, pots, pans, and food like she’d put them there herself . She even managed to find a cheese grater he didn't even know he had.
Watching her move around his kitchen made him feel something he'd never felt before, it was like he had another purpose now. To do what though, he had no idea. But he was betting it wasn't just to eat whatever it was she was making.
Damn it smelled good in here. The skillet sizzled as she dropped a dollop of butter in it . She added chopped onion and vegetables and soon the kitchen blazed with delicious scents. She opened his fridge and bent down to grab the milk, revealing her round cheeks to perfect ion . He groaned and ran a hand over his hard cock.
Soon, he told it, soon. She was killing him in that thing. He wanted to put her on the table and fuck her right now. But the need to feed her was stronger than fucking her, though not by much.
"So what's your history with Conlin?" She faltered in mid-step and put the milk away. He hated the way her glowing skin dimmed at the mention of Conlin. He wanted to bloody the man's face with his bare hands, but first he needed to learn about him. The man was sick; no doubt about that, and his perverted interest in Alison was going to stop . He’d see sure to it.
"I don't like to talk about it. You know, your kitchen isn't nearly adequate. You have no non-stick pans, or even a whisk for that matter, and you only have three dried seasonings. Salt, pepper, and dill. I know you're not a chef, but how do you eat? Heck, what do you eat?"
He laughed at her jab and let the deflection go, for the moment. "I eat when I can, I don't usually have time to eat a lot or cook with work. I usually just throw a steak on the grill or in the broiler."
She spun to look at him with wide eyes. "And that's all? No vegetables or anything?" He shrugged and laughed at her expression. Deep warmth spread through his chest and he rubbed at it curiously. She sounded almost as if she cared about him.
"Why? Does it bother you that I don't eat much , " h e taunted her, leaning back in his chair, his legs crossed at the ankles in front of him.
Her mouth opened to reply, but she stopped, stirred the food, and then replied taking care with her words. "I only want you to have good nutrition, that's all."
He burst out laughing at her awkwardness. She cut him a hard glare that had him stifling his chuckles between tight lips. She pulled plates out of a cabinet and plated the food.
"Wow, this smells great. It looks good too." Her eyes lit up as she set the plate in front of him. She seated herself and stared at him expectantly until finally
Alison tried to ignore his words, but was afraid they were forever etched in her memory. Her stomach saved her from acknowledging his words when it growled.
He laughed and pressed a kiss to her neck. "That sounded like a bear about to kill a man."
She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Do you like to eat?" He raised his head slowly and stared at her.
"Yes, I find food quite e njoyable”—he looked like he was fighting not to laugh—“ Why don't you let me make something for you?"
" That’s not what I meant ! I mean, I cook. It's what I do. Want some breakfast ?" He arched a brow and nodded. She moved to pass him, but he stopped her by cupping a breast through her nightgown. She stifled a moan as her nipple instantly responded to his touch, hardening in his hot palm. He watched her expression as he pinched and tugged the peak. Only after she gasped and flushed with arousal did he let her go.
"I'm not done with you Alison, and don't forget that I have questions for y ou. And I expect honest answers or else." She left the room and his threatening words on quick feet.
* * *
Rome watched Alison moved around his kitchen as if she'd been his cook for years. She found all the utensils, pots, pans, and food like she’d put them there herself . She even managed to find a cheese grater he didn't even know he had.
Watching her move around his kitchen made him feel something he'd never felt before, it was like he had another purpose now. To do what though, he had no idea. But he was betting it wasn't just to eat whatever it was she was making.
Damn it smelled good in here. The skillet sizzled as she dropped a dollop of butter in it . She added chopped onion and vegetables and soon the kitchen blazed with delicious scents. She opened his fridge and bent down to grab the milk, revealing her round cheeks to perfect ion . He groaned and ran a hand over his hard cock.
Soon, he told it, soon. She was killing him in that thing. He wanted to put her on the table and fuck her right now. But the need to feed her was stronger than fucking her, though not by much.
"So what's your history with Conlin?" She faltered in mid-step and put the milk away. He hated the way her glowing skin dimmed at the mention of Conlin. He wanted to bloody the man's face with his bare hands, but first he needed to learn about him. The man was sick; no doubt about that, and his perverted interest in Alison was going to stop . He’d see sure to it.
"I don't like to talk about it. You know, your kitchen isn't nearly adequate. You have no non-stick pans, or even a whisk for that matter, and you only have three dried seasonings. Salt, pepper, and dill. I know you're not a chef, but how do you eat? Heck, what do you eat?"
He laughed at her jab and let the deflection go, for the moment. "I eat when I can, I don't usually have time to eat a lot or cook with work. I usually just throw a steak on the grill or in the broiler."
She spun to look at him with wide eyes. "And that's all? No vegetables or anything?" He shrugged and laughed at her expression. Deep warmth spread through his chest and he rubbed at it curiously. She sounded almost as if she cared about him.
"Why? Does it bother you that I don't eat much , " h e taunted her, leaning back in his chair, his legs crossed at the ankles in front of him.
Her mouth opened to reply, but she stopped, stirred the food, and then replied taking care with her words. "I only want you to have good nutrition, that's all."
He burst out laughing at her awkwardness. She cut him a hard glare that had him stifling his chuckles between tight lips. She pulled plates out of a cabinet and plated the food.
"Wow, this smells great. It looks good too." Her eyes lit up as she set the plate in front of him. She seated herself and stared at him expectantly until finally
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