You better keep your head in the game or else Riley will come down on you like thunder.
I shake off my improper thoughts about our new guest as I pull out the wraps from the oven. When I turn around, Allison is staring at me from the stairs. I meet her eyes and smile. She hesitates, but gives in and returns my smile. Christ, am I hard?
“Riley texted me to let me know she’s coming back early.”
“Great. I can’t wait to meet her in person.”
“My business partner Hunter will be here within the hour. He’s also eager to meet you.”
“Wow. What a welcome party. I can’t wait to meet everyone,” she says, coming down the stairs. I take in every undulation of her hips as she makes her way towards me. Focus on her eyes, buddy.
“I hope you found everything you needed upstairs. I was starting to worry you might have slipped out the bathroom window and returned to New York,” I tease.
“No. I wouldn’t dream of going back to Manhattan. I like what I see here,” she says, raising her eyebrow suggestively.
“Do you?” I hold her gaze. The double entendre is so obvious. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t resist.
“I was admiring the décor upstairs. It’s not as rustic as I would have imagined.”
“Well, both Riley and I grew up in LA and I spent years working in Silicon Valley. I love the sleekness of modern décor, but living out here has given us the privilege of incorporating some incredible wooden pieces. I hired the same designer who decorated my townhouse in San Francisco and I gave her carte blanche to restyle this entire home. She also decorated Hunter’s, Riley’s and the three other guest houses we have on the property.”
“I love your bathroom. Those are such gorgeous rustic frames,” she says, joining me in the kitchen.
“That’s as country as I was willing to go. You won’t find too many ranches around here with air-conditioning and a full wine cellar modeled after one of San Francisco’s finest restaurants like I have here.” I grin. Money has its privileges.
We both lock eyes and I try to read what I see flickering in her gaze.
“Come on and sit down to eat. I hope you like Tex-Mex?”
“I do,” she says enthusiastically, pulling out a stool and sitting down.
As she settles her body on the chair, her white tank top lowers enough to reveal the crescents of her full breasts. Wow. Those would fit very nicely in my hands.
“Good. Riley makes an incredible chilled tomato soup and her warm chicken and avocado wraps are pretty amazing as well,” I say, serving her food before sitting across from her. My hand brushes against hers by accident and the charge that travels through my body catches me off guard. I lift my eyes and I know she feels it too.
“This looks delicious, Jake.” She’s speaking to me, but her eyes are glued on her food.
“Riley asked me to keep it light because she’s prepared her killer lasagna for tonight. I usually can’t stop at one portion.” I chuckle. “I’m warning you now, her garlic bread is out of this world. I’m not big on vegetables, but her Caesar salad is pretty delicious as well. It’s going to be quite the feast.”
“I love lasagna. I never take time to prepare it, but I order it at my favorite Italian restaurant.”
“Riley has perfected this recipe. It’s one we all enjoy. I’m not sure I’ll have room for dessert, but I’ll try since my baby sister prepared something very special for your arrival.”
“She did?”
“Uh-huh. Can you keep a secret?” I ask, leaning in against the granite top. I’m so close to her, I could reach out and stroke her cheek with the back of my hand.
“I can,” she answers, leaning in closer, narrowing her eyes as if I’m about to reveal matters of national security. She’s so eager. If she leans anymore, she’ll fall forward.
“Riley prepared her…” I let the words hang.
“Her what?” Allison frowns.
“Are you ready for this?” I tease.
“You’re torturing me here. I know she’s an insane baker. Please don’t make me beg for it.”
Her words have my head spinning. A salacious vision hits me and I moan silently. I’m dominating her and pushing her down to her knees. She’s looking up at me submissively, begging for my cock. Damn. I blink a few times, snapping out of it. “She’s whipped up her famous vanilla and raspberry cake.”
“Oh my God. No.” Allison leans back against her seat with her hand over her mouth. “The recipe from her blog that went viral?”