Page 120 of Securing the Pucking Rebound
It starts slow and gentle, but by the time my cell starts buzzing, letting me know that the lasagna is ready, I’m more than ready to eat her instead.
“Dinner,” I murmur into her mouth before forcing us apart.
She gazes up at me with wide, hungry eyes and swollen lips. She’s never looked better.
“You like lasagna, right?”
“Of course. Who the hell doesn’t like lasagna?”
“Right? That’s what I thought. But then I started worrying and—” I cut myself off with a shake of my head. “Go and sit down.”
“I feel like I should go and dress up. You’ve done all this so—”
“Don’t. I left that for you for a reason.”
She smirks, gazing at me from beneath her lashes as she bites her bottom lip.
“You like seeing me with your name and number, huh?” she taunts, spinning around on the spot to show me her back.
“Darlin’,” I say, dragging my fingers through my hair. “You have no fucking idea.”
This time when I reach to adjust myself, she doesn’t miss it.
Her eyes drop to my crotch, and then jump up to my eyes. I panic for a moment, but then the most incredible smile pulls at her lips. She looked beautiful before, but the way that smile lights up every inch of her face and makes her eyes twinkle…well, I’m fucking gone.
“You having a little problem there?”
“There’s nothing little about this problem,” I taunt.
I expect her to roll her eyes or tease me for being cocky, but none of that happens. Instead, her eyes turn a shade of gray that’s so dark it’s almost black as her mouth opens in a perfect O.
The need to put the idea of dinner aside in favor of throwing her over my shoulder and taking her to bed is almost too much to ignore. But knowing that I promised her slow and at her pace, I force some blood to my head and remember what the fuck I’m meant to be doing.
“Go and sit down, darlin’.”
She lifts one foot, and for a moment, I think she’s going to move closer and take the decision out of my hands. But then she retreats toward the table.
“Do you want a glass of wine?” she asks, picking up the bottle and pouring herself one.
“A small one,” I say before heading to the kitchen to rescue the lasagna before I ruin all my hard work.
As I dish it up, Sienna’s burning stare ensures my skin continues to burn and desire rushes through my veins.
Maybe leaving that hoodie was a bad idea. How the fuck am I meant to focus when she’s— “Ow, fuck.”
“Are you okay?” she asks in a rush.
Before I have a chance to respond, she’s at my side, her small hand on my forearm as I stare at the finger I burned on the lasagna dish.
“Here,” she says, reaching for the faucet and shoving my finger under the cold, running water.
“I’m okay. It’s just a small burn,” I explain as her hand slides down my back. A shudder rips through me, and there’s no way she misses it.
“Better to be safe than sorry,” she murmurs, glancing up at me.
“I really did miss you, you know.”
Her smile widens, and she ducks her head.
