I nodded.
“You liked it?”
I pretended to think. “It’s a… nine out of ten from me.”
He placed the spatula on the counter and took one step in my direction. “And this?” he asked repeating his last ass wiggle. “What’s the verdict on this?” His hips swayed left to right, matching the new song’s rhythm.
I made a show out of inspecting his movements. “Oh, that gets you to a nine point five. But probably only because you’ve bribed the jury by giving me all your clothes.”
He let out a deep belly laugh. “You calling me out, Ro?” He stepped in my direction. “Making fun of me because I got a little distracted seeing you prancing around in my clothes, looking ready to eat?”
“It was cute,” I told him, my heartbeat’s speed increasing as he moved closer. “So cute.”
Lucas stopped in front of me. He leaned down a little. His arm reached out, his hand grabbing the edge of the chair, right below the side of my ass. And then, he pulled the chair—with me on it—in his direction. Bringing me right under him.
He braced a hand on the back of the chair, behind my head.
“You scatter my thoughts, Rosie,” he said, his mouth a few inches above mine as I looked up at him. “There’ll never be a moment when you don’t distract me from whatever I’m thinking or doing.” He trailed his nose along mine, his lips barely brushing mine. “You have that power over me.”
I exhaled shakily, wanting him to close the distance, to take me in this chair.
He brushed a kiss on the corner of my lips. “I want you so badly already. Again,” he whispered. And it was impossible not to notice his arm flexing beside my head, holding himself back from doing what I desperately wanted him to do. “One look, Rosie. That’s all it takes. That’s all it took.”
I kissed him in response. Because that was the best kind of answer I could ever give him. He groaned deep in his throat, his hand moving to the back of my neck, tilting my head further, angling me so he could part my lips.
Linking my arms behind his head, he somehow pulled me up, bringing us both to a standing position. His other arm wrapped around my waist, letting me feel how hard he was, how much I affected him, how much he wanted me, just like he’d said. So I grabbed on to him even tighter, whimpering. Cursing the thick hoodie hanging off my shoulders. Letting him feel how much I needed him, too.
Lucas broke the kiss, meeting my gaze with a million things dancing in his eyes. “As good as you feel,” he said nonchalantly, like that wasn’t supposed to make me all the more soft and hot. “I’m not letting our breakfast burn. I haven’t gotten over the loss of those pizzas yet.”
My shoulders fell, and I let my arms fall back to my sides as I nodded and readied myself to return to the chair, because if we weren’t going to kiss—or do other sexy things—then I’d settle for a cooking show. But Lucas didn’t let go of my waist, and instead, he turned me around and guided us to the stove.
He assembled behind me, and I felt his breath on my temple. “That didn’t mean I’m giving you up,” he murmured in my ear as he placed the spatula in my hand. “First, breakfast. Then, we’ll go pick up Taco.”
We. Us, together.
“Lucas?” I asked through a ridiculously big grin. “Will you and Taco stay here? With me?”
“Only if you’ll have us.”
“Yes,” I rushed out, and he placed a kiss on my hair. Heart singing, I glanced down at the dark brown pancake that sizzled on the pan. “Do you think we can save this one?”
He reached for the bowl of batter, stretching an arm and putting his biceps right on my face. Yummy. “Let’s discard that one and start over.”
“Okay, chef.”
“Ah,” he said, throwing the almost-charred pancake away. “I love when you talk dirty to me, Rosie.”
* * *
A glass of water appeared next to my laptop.
Well, it didn’t exactly pop out of thin air. I noticed it had been placed there at some point.
By Lucas.
Since Friday, we hadn’t left my apartment, at least not for more than a few hours to pick up Taco and Lucas’s things once we both accepted that he wasn’t sleeping anywhere else but in my bed. Although, saying that we were sleeping was a bit of a stretch. Not that I was complaining, I’d probably be hanging off him right now if I didn’t have to work. Because I was still on a deadline that was a little less than three weeks away, and as good as my progress had been since Lucas and my experiment began, I still had work to do. Words to write.