But ugh, life is so unfair sometimes.
I root through the fridge. Yep, no way this guy is single – there’s actually food in here. I fish out some eggs, cheese, mushrooms and green peppers. Omelets are one of my favorite comfort foods, and it’s the least I can do to make Cassius breakfast after he so graciously let me crash here last night. After I missed my bus like an idiot.
Great first impressions all around, Manila, I think bitterly.
I’ve finished the omelets and have moved on to frying some bacon when my spine suddenly starts to tingle. I turn around to find Cassius leaning against the doorway, watching me, his expression unreadable.
So much for telling myself not to be jealous. Fuck that other girl, I think, staring at him wide-eyed for a second. He’s just the perfect amount of sleep-tousled, his hair a wavy mess around his forehead, dressed in sweatpants that sag just far enough down his hips that I can follow his happy trail a little too well – someone does not wear boxers to bed. And his T-shirt is tight as hell, hugging him closely enough that I can make out every line and cut of his muscular body.
I want to be that damn shirt.
“Good morning,” he says, his voice somehow deeper, sexier than I remembered.
I swallow hard. He’s still staring, blatantly letting his eyes roam over me. I clear my throat, searching for something to break the silence. Is he mad I borrowed his girlfriend’s shirt?
“I, uh, I found this in the spare room,” I finally stammer. My voice sounds overloud and awkward in the huge kitchen. “I hope it’s okay with your girlfriend that I borrowed them.”
“They aren’t my girlfriend’s,” he replies flatly.
Well. That’s not exactly helpful. Does that mean he has a girlfriend but these aren’t hers, or…? I shake myself internally. Stop trying to hit on your boss! “Oh. Well, I’ll wash them and bring them back, whoever’s they are…”
“They’re yours now,” he says, then he strides across the kitchen toward the coffee maker, which has just started to bubble faintly.
I step in front of him to block his path. “I’ll get it.”
He nearly walks straight into me, and for a second, I stare up at him, nose nearly touching his chest. He holds my gaze, searching. I swear I can feel my pulse beating in my fingertips, my toes, and every inch of my body. He can probably hear it at this rate, the way my heart is thumping.
“Thank you, Manila,” he says, and his breath ghosts across my cheeks, mint-fresh. Someone brushed his teeth before he came in here. Would he normally do that or…?
Here I go overthinking this all again. But I can’t help it, with him standing so close I can feel the heat of his body.
“No problem,” I manage to reply, before I whirl back to the bacon. Crap. It’s about to burn. I grab the handle, flipping it onto a plate. But I didn’t think ahead – I forgot it’s not like my pan at home with the heat-proof handle. I cry out and drop the hot pan to the stove with a clatter, shaking my hand.
“Shit,” I curse, backing away from the stove. Ouch.
Before I can react, Cassius grabs my shoulders and practically picks me up, whirling me around to the sink. He turns on the water, takes my hand and holds it under the tap. His skin is hot on mine, the water freezing, and he’s still got his other arm around my shoulders, holding me in place. But we move so fast that the sink splashes us both, flecks of water scattering across our T-shirts.
Fucking hell. I can see through his shirt now, at stomach height, his abs on full display. I swear my whole body clenches in anticipation – especially my pussy. I’m getting wet just standing close to him, the conflicting sensations of the freezing cold water and his hot skin driving me wild.
“Th-thanks,” I sputter.
“You have to be more careful.” He gazes down at me, his face a mask of concern. “How does it feel?”
I flex my fingers and wince. “Not great, but I’ve had worse. It’ll be fine.”
We’re face-to-face, barely an inch apart. If I lean toward him just a few inches, we’ll be touching, his strong, muscular chest pressed against my body… He’s staring at me, too, fixed and focused, like he’s thinking the same thing.
Is he?
I watch his throat contract as he swallows – hard, and I inhale faintly. He smells amazing, like fresh clothes from the dryer and mint and a deeper, masculine scent underneath that’s all him. I want to kiss him, grab him, let him take me right here… He could push me up against the sink, pin me in place and take whatever he wants. It’s hard to breathe, and there’s a weight between my legs, like my clit has swollen in size with desire.
“Manila…” He releases my wrist, and suddenly I ache a whole lot more, though not from the injury. Damn. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Cassius,” I say, not sure where I’m going with this – there’s clearly something here, tension we both feel, but what am I supposed to say? “I—I don’t…”
Luckily I don’t have to think anymore.
Without warning, he wraps his arms around me, lifts me off the ground as his mouth collides with mine. I fold my arms around his neck and kiss him back, as hard as I can. His lips part, his tongue tangling with mine. My chest digs into his, soft against hard, and I lift one leg to wrap it around his waist. The moment I do, I feel his hard, thick cock pressed against my thigh, free underneath his loose sweatpants.
I’m lost in the kiss, oblivious to everything else around us – the water, the burn on my hand, the bacon still burning on the stove. I just don’t want him to ever stop touching me. His hands slide down my back, cupping my ass, pulling me tight against him, and I grind my hips, pinning his cock between us.
His lips are soft, his mouth hard, and his stubble scrapes my cheek as he turns to kiss along my jaw, down my neck. I gasp faintly, and –
Luca starts to cry.
Shit.
Nothing else in the world could have pulled me out of the trance I’d fallen into just now, aside from that. I pull away from him, cursing under my breath, and Cassius drops me back onto my feet.
Luca’s wailing sets off Lucie, and pretty soon they’re both howling. I sprint from the room without a backwards glance or another word.
What the hell was that?
My heart is still racing when I reach the kids. I pick up Luca first, bounce him lightly as I lean over the crib to tickle Lucie’s stomach. It takes me the better part of half an hour to calm them down, which at least gives me enough time to get my racing, out-of-control heart under control.