“You’ve got to try this.” Before I can react, Daisy walks over to me, holding her spoon in front of my mouth.
This position allows me the perfect angle to see the soft arch of her neck, and the inviting curve of her breasts. She’s breathtaking.
And I’m screwed.
So what would every man in their right mind do when presented with such a situation, especially knowing that it will be incredibly satisfying but is also something that can’t ever be taken back? Open their lips to slowly glide them over the fluffy softness, of course. Daisy’s eyes watch the mousse disappear, sparkling with undiluted excitement. And maybe something else?
“Total foodgasm, right?” Her tongue darts out mimicking mine when a bit of chocolate wants to escape.
Fuck me. Having her get this excited over food shouldn’t be such a turn-on, but I’m quickly starting to realize that anything regarding this woman might be a turn-on.
I watch her like the predator I’ve turned into whenever I’m around her, checking out the perimeter, making sure that it’s safe to approach, that my chances of winning are at optimal levels.
After clearing my throat, I hope it’s safe to talk. “I vote for kidnapping the chef. But only if you agree to share.”
With her finger on her chin, she pretends to think about this. Damn, even that is sexy. I’m starting to see all of these sides of her when she’s not around the boys. Why do I like that so much?
She’s an amazing mom, no doubt about that, but it’s also been a few very stressful years for her. The boys are great kids, but as most other kids, they can be a handful. Seeing her this carefree and joyful makes my chest tight.
“I think we could arrange that.”
I lean closer and she tilts her head back to continue looking at me. She isn’t short by any means, but neither am I, and I love this angle.
Lifting my hand, I reach out to her hand that’s cradled by her side. Without looking, I trail my fingers along her arm and the inside of her wrist, before grabbing the spoon out of her hand. “I believe it’s my turn now to feed you.”
And so much more if you’ll let me. The words volley around in my mind but I don’t say them out loud. Hopefully, I can show her though.
Her lips part on a gasp as her chest heaves, and a burst of satisfaction rushes through me at her reaction.
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