Page 40 of Don't Fall For Your Brother's Best Friend
I spread my legs so he can fit his lean frame in between them. “Promise?”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “Promise.” He kisses me lightly on the lips, but I don’t want him to stop.
I wrap my legs tighter around him, letting the kiss deepen naturally.
He finally breaks free, and opens his eyes, trained right on me. “You’re so pretty. Do you even get how pretty you are?”
I smile, my cheeks flaming hot. “Thank you.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
My cheeks grow even hotter and I dip my head to stare at the floor. “No, I guess.”
He sets two fingers under my chin, raising my head up so he can look into my eyes. “You’re really fucking pretty.”
I gaze into the depths of his eyes, wanting to memorize the color. “Thank you.”
“I’ve always thought so,” he whispers, and my mind wants to analyze that statement over and over again. “I got a great deal on a ribeye,” he says, changing the subject so quickly I can’t ask him to elaborate. He steps away from me to continue working.
“Oh yum,” I say.
“I’m making it with a sweet potato puree, balsamic roasted mushrooms and sautéed sprouts. Do you like brussel sprouts?”
I nod. “I love them.” I glance around his kitchen, looking at all the prep work he’s doing. “You really didn’t have to go through all of this trouble. I would have been okay with a pizza.”
He stops straining the sweet potatoes, and stares at me. “First, no, you wouldn’t have because once you taste this you’ll love it so much more than pizza. Second, it’s really not any trouble. I enjoy doing this.”
“Can I help?”
He resumes straining the potatoes. “You can get us both a glass of wine?”
I smile. “Now that I can do. I’m really kind of hopeless in the kitchen.”
“I bet that’s not true.”
I head to his cupboard, opening a few before he points to one which holds the wine glasses. I pull two down. “I don’t have a skill for cooking, but I definitely am skilled at carrying on a conversation with the person doing the cooking.”
Griffin’s eyes light up like the Fourth of July. “I love that. And you can sit here and keep me company every time I cook.”
His words almost speak of a future of us ending up together, and I let my mind wander there. I’m actually not mad at it. I can picture coming home from work, watching Griffin prepare a meal just for the two of us.
I kind of dig this future unfolding before my very eyes.
Griffin steps closer and takes the glass of wine I’ve poured for him. “You okay?” he asks me as he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip. “You sort of went quiet on me.”
I raise my own wine glass to my lips, smelling the nice aroma of the Pinot Noir. “I’m just thinking about sitting here and keeping you company every time you cook.”
He sets his wine glass down. “I might need to kick you out of this kitchen.” He takes my wine glass from my hand and sets it along the counter. He invades my space. “Because I’m not going to get much cooking done with you sitting here looking like a meal I’d like to devour instead.”
My chest grows warm. “Griffin,” I whisper right before he kisses me.
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to him. “You have no idea,” he whispers as he breaks the kiss. “No fucking clue.”
“No clue about what?” I blink up at him.
He cups my cheek. “No clue about what I’d like to do to you.”
I smile wide. “Will you feed me first?”