She looked momentarily struck dumb, as if it honestly hadn’t occurred to her that she didn’t have to be running around freaking out every single minute. Then she smiled. Her eyes twinkled and lit up and it struck him how truly beautiful she was.
Behind the façade. Behind all the posing, the bitchy exterior, the hard-ass act. She was a beautiful, sensitive woman and he was in some deep shit.
“You know what? You’re right. I pay people to handle details. Let them do their job. My job is to show up at two, right?”
He took off the remaining covers and she sighed in appreciation at the pancakes, bacon, eggs and grits. There was also fruit, toast and milk and juice.
“I’m never going to eat all this,” she said, though she eyed it like she’d love to try. “Have you eaten?”
He shook his head.
She sat up and pulled her feet from the end of the couch. Then she patted the space beside her. “Come eat, then. There’s enough to feed the entire security team.”
He sat next to her but was careful to keep a little distance between them. Despite her seeming ease, he could sense her uncertainty. She kept glancing over at him. Just little nervous peeks as if expecting him to bring up the fact she’d slept the entire night in his room after she’d bolted out of bed.
He was content to pretend it hadn’t happened. For now.
The problem was, she looked so damn cute and snuggly that what he really wanted to do was pull her down to the couch and make love to her all over again.
But he wouldn’t stop there. It really made him uncomfortable that beyond making love to her, he had a primitive, chest-thumping, mouthsnarling urge to tie her to his bed and not let her out of his sight for the next year or so.
Yeah, he’d keep that little tidbit to himself. Nothing like making her stalker the more desirable option here.
He was losing his mind—had already lost his mind.
Lyric was wrong for him on every conceivable level, but she just did it for him. Now he couldn’t even give Nathan shit about how head over ass he’d fallen for his wife. The man was done from the moment he’d laid eyes on Julie.
In less than two weeks, Lyric Jones would move on, go back on tour, be the fantasy of every boy and man, and Connor would go back to his job and spend his nights reliving the time he’d held her in his arms as she came apart.
Yep, his fascination with her didn’t make a whole lot of goddamn sense in that light.
“This is really good,” Lyric said around a mouthful. “You should eat.”
Connor stared down at the plate she’d fixed for him and realized he’d yet to take a bite. He wasn’t hungry for food. He was hungry for the petite blue-haired vixen sitting next to him.
To cover the awkwardness between them, he picked up his fork and plate and began eating, though he’d be hard-pressed to tell what exactly he ate. For the first time in his life, the thought of food didn’t appeal. And if that wasn’t a huge sign that he was f**ked, he didn’t know what was.
After a while, Lyric laid her fork down and leaned back into the couch. She hugged the blanket to her chest and sighed as her head plopped against the cushion.
“Full?” he asked as he set aside his own plate.
“Mmmm. Yummy.”
“I hope not too full,” he said.
She turned, her stare questioning.
He grinned. “I have a surprise. I think you’ll like it.”
He reached for the saucer and lifted the cover off to reveal the perfectly iced cupcake.
Her eyes lit up and a broad smile curved her lips.
He dipped his finger along the outside edge to capture some of the icing, and then he held it out to Lyric. He smeared just a bit on her soft lips and her tongue immediately came out to lick the sweetness away.
He returned to the cupcake, dipped more of the icing and then smudged a little on her cheek. Her eyes widened in surprise but then half closed to a sleepy, drugged state of awareness when he leaned in to nibble at her frosting-covered skin.
He swept his tongue over the spot and then kissed her cheekbone until all the frosting was gone.
“You’re sweeter than the icing,” he murmured.
She reached over without breaking their gazes, dipped her finger through the cupcake and then spread the sweetness over his lips. A moment later, she swooped forward and captured his mouth against hers.
The warmth of her tongue rasped over his lips, tasting, licking away the sugary treat. He could taste the frosting on her lips as she nibbled at his.
To his surprise, she rose over him and leaned her weight into his body so that he was forced back against the couch. She straddled his lap and dug her knees into the cushions on either side of him.
“Since you pointed out that there’s no reason for me to be in a hurry this morning, I now have plenty of time for dessert,” she murmured.
She fit his hands like her ass was fashioned just for him. He cupped and squeezed through the thin material of her pajama bottoms. Then he pulled her forward just enough that the bulge in the crotch of his jeans was straining up against her pu**y.
“Take your shirt off,” he rasped out. “And give me that damn cupcake.”
She laughed and turned, pulling at her shirt with one hand, reaching back for the cupcake with the other.
He ended up helping her, or maybe he was just too impatient. The top came over her head and he tossed it across the room. She held the cupcake up, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she watched him.
He swiped at the frosting, careful to leave plenty still on the cupcake, because damn, his mind was alive with the possibilities. He decorated one puckered nipple with the sweet buttercream icing until the tip was white. His mouth watered but he forced himself to lavish the same attention on her other breast.
She fidgeted and sighed, strained up, but he pulled her back down onto his lap. Her br**sts bobbed in front of him like two delectable treats, and he never, ever turned down sugar.
He licked delicately up the curve of her breast, anticipating the point where he reached her straining nipple. She tensed all over and braced her hands on his shoulders. Her fingers dug into his skin as he flicked his tongue over the tip.
His tongue barely brushed across the sensitive peak, and each time he got only a hint of the sweet.
“Connor!” she gasped. “You’re killing me here.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I think that’s the point.”
She slid one hand up the column of his neck, around to his nape and then into his hair. Her fingers twisted and she pulled impatiently at his head, guiding him back to her breast.