and pressed her body against his, where she fit perfectly.
Typically when a woman insinuated herself into his bed for the night, he’d start to think about how fast he could get her out of his house in the morning.
With Tori, he didn’t feel that way. He felt...comfortable with her here. In his bed, and in his house.
And maybe in his life.
He should go to sleep before he started to think too much about what the hell that meant. There was already too much going on in his head as it was.
Chapter Seven
When Tori woke the next morning, she had a few seconds of disorientation. First, she was in a very comfortable, oversized monstrosity of a bed, so it definitely wasn’t hers.
Second, underused muscles were sore, and then she remembered last night.
And Brody, which reminded her where she was.
In Brody’s bed, with no Brody in sight. But she smelled bacon. And coffee. And her stomach growled in response.
She started to throw the covers off to get dressed, but Brody came through the door right then with a tray.
“Don’t get dressed,” he said. “I have coffee and breakfast.”
“In bed? I can come into the kitchen.”
“No.” He set the tray down and poured a cup of coffee that he filled with two dollops of cream, then added a spoonful of sugar, just the way she made hers. He handed her the cup. “I want us to eat in bed.”
She inhaled the brew, then took a sip. “Mmmm. Decadent.”
While he poured his coffee, she admired his lean physique in his low-slung sweat pants and no shirt. He was barefoot, too.
“Aren’t your feet cold?”
He looked down at his feet. “Uh, no. I don’t get cold. I’m used to working outside in the winter and it’s plenty warm in here. Are you cold? I could turn the heat up.”
She raised her knees. “I’m plenty warm.” And heating up fast as she ogled him.
“Good. I made pancakes and eggs—scrambled—plus bacon and sausage and hash browns.”
She arched a brow at the smorgasbord he presented her. “You lied last night. You can cook.”
“I’m no master chef, but I do have to eat to survive, so there are a few things I know how to fix. What would you like?”
“Pancakes sound great. And bacon. I love bacon.”
He grabbed a piece of bacon and held it in front of her lips. “Bite.”
She took a taste. It was crispy. “Perfect,” she said after she’d swallowed.
He took the next bite, then her. Sharing the meal together was intimate, and she had to admit, fun to eat in bed. Naked. Though she was the only one naked, a fact she was reminded of every time Brody glanced at her breasts. It made breakfast an interesting experience.
“Lots of syrup or only a little?” he asked after they polished off the bacon and eggs, which he’d also shared with her by feeding her.
“Lots.”
He poured syrup on the pancakes, then scooped some onto the fork and slid it into her mouth.
“Oh, that’s delicious.”
“Thanks. It’s my own recipe.”
“Not a box mix?”
He looked horrified. “Bite your tongue. Pancakes are sacred.”
She laughed, and when he hovered near her lips for the next bite, syrup dripped over her breasts.
She looked down. “Oops. Did you bring napkins?”
“Yeah, but I’ll get that.” He laid the fork on the plate and bent down to lick the drops of syrup from her breast, then ended by capturing her nipple between his lips and sucking.
She gasped, then held his head there while he tasted her. When he lifted his head, he said, “You taste much better than the pancakes.”
He grabbed the bottle of syrup and poured another few drops over both breasts, letting some dip between the valley and over her nipples. Breakfast forgotten, Tori leaned back against the pillows and Brody dropped his sweats, his erection a much better appetizer than the bacon.
He climbed onto the bed and licked along the valley between her breasts, moved to one nipple, then the other, cleaning the trail of syrup he’d mapped. By the time she was clean, she was
Typically when a woman insinuated herself into his bed for the night, he’d start to think about how fast he could get her out of his house in the morning.
With Tori, he didn’t feel that way. He felt...comfortable with her here. In his bed, and in his house.
And maybe in his life.
He should go to sleep before he started to think too much about what the hell that meant. There was already too much going on in his head as it was.
Chapter Seven
When Tori woke the next morning, she had a few seconds of disorientation. First, she was in a very comfortable, oversized monstrosity of a bed, so it definitely wasn’t hers.
Second, underused muscles were sore, and then she remembered last night.
And Brody, which reminded her where she was.
In Brody’s bed, with no Brody in sight. But she smelled bacon. And coffee. And her stomach growled in response.
She started to throw the covers off to get dressed, but Brody came through the door right then with a tray.
“Don’t get dressed,” he said. “I have coffee and breakfast.”
“In bed? I can come into the kitchen.”
“No.” He set the tray down and poured a cup of coffee that he filled with two dollops of cream, then added a spoonful of sugar, just the way she made hers. He handed her the cup. “I want us to eat in bed.”
She inhaled the brew, then took a sip. “Mmmm. Decadent.”
While he poured his coffee, she admired his lean physique in his low-slung sweat pants and no shirt. He was barefoot, too.
“Aren’t your feet cold?”
He looked down at his feet. “Uh, no. I don’t get cold. I’m used to working outside in the winter and it’s plenty warm in here. Are you cold? I could turn the heat up.”
She raised her knees. “I’m plenty warm.” And heating up fast as she ogled him.
“Good. I made pancakes and eggs—scrambled—plus bacon and sausage and hash browns.”
She arched a brow at the smorgasbord he presented her. “You lied last night. You can cook.”
“I’m no master chef, but I do have to eat to survive, so there are a few things I know how to fix. What would you like?”
“Pancakes sound great. And bacon. I love bacon.”
He grabbed a piece of bacon and held it in front of her lips. “Bite.”
She took a taste. It was crispy. “Perfect,” she said after she’d swallowed.
He took the next bite, then her. Sharing the meal together was intimate, and she had to admit, fun to eat in bed. Naked. Though she was the only one naked, a fact she was reminded of every time Brody glanced at her breasts. It made breakfast an interesting experience.
“Lots of syrup or only a little?” he asked after they polished off the bacon and eggs, which he’d also shared with her by feeding her.
“Lots.”
He poured syrup on the pancakes, then scooped some onto the fork and slid it into her mouth.
“Oh, that’s delicious.”
“Thanks. It’s my own recipe.”
“Not a box mix?”
He looked horrified. “Bite your tongue. Pancakes are sacred.”
She laughed, and when he hovered near her lips for the next bite, syrup dripped over her breasts.
She looked down. “Oops. Did you bring napkins?”
“Yeah, but I’ll get that.” He laid the fork on the plate and bent down to lick the drops of syrup from her breast, then ended by capturing her nipple between his lips and sucking.
She gasped, then held his head there while he tasted her. When he lifted his head, he said, “You taste much better than the pancakes.”
He grabbed the bottle of syrup and poured another few drops over both breasts, letting some dip between the valley and over her nipples. Breakfast forgotten, Tori leaned back against the pillows and Brody dropped his sweats, his erection a much better appetizer than the bacon.
He climbed onto the bed and licked along the valley between her breasts, moved to one nipple, then the other, cleaning the trail of syrup he’d mapped. By the time she was clean, she was
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