Beneath These Chains (Page 34)

She didn’t respond, just leaned back against me. I counted it as a good sign that she didn’t stiffen and tell me there wouldn’t be a next time. Because there’d be a next time even if I had to tie the woman to my bed.

“You better eat before it gets cold. Mine will be done in a minute.”

“Your turn first.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’m not going to watch you cook and then eat before you. I might not have been raised with much in the way of manners, but even I know that’s a dick move.” I pushed away from the counter, intending to grab silverware, but at the word dick, her eyes dropped to that very level. It might have distracted me from my task.

“Speaking of dicks…”

Mine pulsed. Obviously.

“Go sit your cute little ass down and eat your waffle before neither of us gets any breakfast.”

She bit her lip, took the plate, and moved around to sit at the bar.

I groaned.

“What?” Elle asked.

“Your naked ass is sitting on my barstool, isn’t it?”

Her shoulders shook with laughter. “Yep. Totally. Want to hand me a fork?”

“Shit, woman. I’m never going to be able to look at that barstool the same way again, and you’re over there asking me for a fork?”

“You’re the one who told me to eat first.”

“I did.” By the time I’d set it in front of her, Elle was pointing at the waffle iron.

“Yours should be done.” I lifted it and the waffle was perfectly golden brown. I spun to grab another plate, and this time it was Elle groaning.

“Damn, you could totally bounce a quarter off your ass.”

I looked over my shoulder, happier to see the smile on her face than I was to know she was checking out my ass with as much enthusiasm as I’d checked out hers. I was in trouble with this woman.

I pulled a napkin out of the holder on the bar and dabbed at my mouth daintily. Lord’s brow furrowed.

“I might have drooled a little,” I explained, shrugging. “I mean … that ass of yours is epic.”

His chuckle filled the kitchen. “Same goes, sweet thing. Same goes.” His eyes lowered to my plate. “Now eat before it gets cold. We’ve gotta make a stop before we head into the shop. There’s a guy with a unique collection he thinks I’d be interested in.”

I dug into my waffle. “What kind of collection?”

Lord’s smile was sly. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Cryptic.

The man, with that damn Mona Lisa smile, slid his plate next to mine and joined me at the bar.

We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Lord said, “I like this. Having you here.”

“It’s certainly domestic.”

“I’ve never had domestic, so if that’s what this is, then I guess I like domestic.”

His words burrowed into me and took up residence with the warmth growing in my chest.

“I’ve never really had domestic, either,” I admitted. “I guess I never really wanted it.”

The clink of silverware against the plates quieted as we both stilled our movements.

“Is that something you’re ever gonna want?”

I forced a smile and met his intense blue gaze. “Way to put a girl on the spot.”

“It’s not a tough question, Elle.”

I looked back at my waffle and resumed cutting it into precise little squares following the lines of the waffle iron. I speared a piece with my fork and nabbed it off the tines. Chewing was good. Chewing meant I had a reasonable excuse not to respond to his comment. Not a tough question, my ass. I needed to lighten the mood. I wasn’t prepared to deal with heavy stuff this morning. I chewed slower and thought faster. Swallowing, I slid my eyes to Lord. He still hadn’t moved and was studying me. “If domestic includes falling asleep because I’ve practically blacked out from coming, and waking up filled with you, then I might consider it.” I lifted my eyebrows. “But since I haven’t experienced the second, I’m unable to make a definitive judgment.”

His gaze heated. “You want my dick that bad? Need to ride it before you buy it?”

Buy it? Well, that was a little extreme. But ride it? Ummm … yep. That sounded grand.

“Do you expect me to say no? Pretend I haven’t been thinking about this since the first time I saw you?”

His lips curled up. “You’re tempting as fuck, you know that?” Gratification flared to life within me. I was going to get what I wanted. His next words doused it. “But we’ve got somewhere to be this morning. Don’t want to be rushing shit when I finally get inside you.”

I wanted to growl in frustration. “Seriously? You make me wait any longer, and I’m gonna have to take care of business another way.”

Lord’s expression darkened. His fork clattered to the plate, and he shoved it aside.

Whoa. What did he think I meant? I started to replay my words in my head, but got sidetracked when Lord slid off his stool and pulled mine away from the bar.

“Those are fightin’ words, and I think we’re going to be a little late to our appointment, because I’m about to show you what you’ll get from me that you can’t get anywhere else.”

Wait, what? Did he think…?

“I didn’t mean I’d—”

“Too late now.”

I swallowed back a lump in my throat, but it wasn’t fear, it was … anticipation—because this little miscommunication might actually be working in my favor. Lord pulled me forward before tossing me over his shoulder. I expected him to head for the bedroom, but he didn’t waste that many steps. I bounced as I landed on the couch.