I sit up slowly. Even though I’m not normally a morning person, right now I’m already too awake to stay in bed, so I get up quietly, put on yesterday’s shirt and walk to the kitchen.
Standing there, looking around at his somewhat minimal kitchen supplies, I have an idea.
Pancakes.
I’ll make pancakes.
I freely admit to not being the world’s greatest cook — okay, I’m probably in the bottom third of cooks, if we’re being honest — but any idiot can make pancakes, right? It’s just… flour and eggs and stuff all mixed together and tossed onto the stove.
Luckily, before disaster can strike too hard, I find a box of pancake mix in Jax’s cupboard. It’s got very explicit instructions on the back, so ten minutes later I’m happily mixing it together with some eggs and water — Jax is out of milk — and then rummaging through his cupboards for a skillet to cook pancakes in.
I find one. It’s square, which is weird, but I shrug and put it on the stove, turning the burner onto the lowest setting.
Then I take a deep breath and ladle a spoonful of pancake batter into the skillet.
Absolutely nothing happens. I frown at the batter, the stove, and the skillet all at once because I’m pretty sure it should be making a noise, or steaming, or… I don’t know. Something.
But instead the batter is spreading out very, very slowly, until it covers the bottom of the skillet in a thin layer.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure I did something wrong. Instead of a pancake, I seem to have a flat, square lake of raw batter that shows no signs whatsoever of transformation.
I’m so absorbed in this problem that I don’t even hear the bedroom door open — either that, or Jax is very sneaky, because when he suddenly wraps his arms behind me from behind, I yelp.
“You sneaked out of my bed,” he rumbles, his bearded face nuzzling my neck.
“You sneaked up on me in the middle of making breakfast,” I counter, gesturing at the square lake in front of me.
Jax makes a noise low in his throat, one hand absent-mindedly caressing my hip.
“Is that what’s going on?” he finally asks.
I frown at the lake.
“It’s a pancake,” I say, a mite defensively. “Or, at least it will be really soon.”
“Sure,” he says, pressing closer against me. He’s got on nothing but plaid pajama pants, his thick arms bare. As he pulls me in his erection bumps against my lower back, and instinctively, I grind against it.
All I’m wearing is one of his enormous t-shirts and a pair of panties. Jax kisses my neck again, my eyelids fluttering closed as his hand dips below the hem of the shirt I’m wearing and skims up my thigh, his fingers just barely dipping below the band of my panties.
“I’ve got a better idea for breakfast,” he murmurs duskily in my ear.
Chapter Nine
Jax
Ruby’s breathing hitches as she pushes back against me, her hands still on the edge of my stove. She’s on her toes, bent slightly forward, ass pressing against my erection and making me feel like a balloon about to explode.
Fuck yes. Good morning to me.
I could say that I had innocent intentions when I woke up, but I’d be lying. Before my eyes even opened, I was thinking of all the ways I could make Ruby come twice before she even got out of bed, but then all my good plans were spoiled when she wasn’t there.
Luckily she didn’t go far, and I found her half-naked in my kitchen, doing something or other with a box of pancake mix.
I’ll figure out what she’s doing later. I’ve got some ideas first.
“I don’t remember saying you could use my stove,” I say, my thumbs underneath the elastic of her panties, my fingers gripping the soft skin of her inner thighs.
“I didn’t know I had to ask permission,” she says, tilting her head as she does, giving me better access.
I take it, biting her softly and then sucking at the same spot. I get a quiet moan out of her, and she rises onto her toes. Looking down, over her shoulder, I can see her stiff nipples poking through the t-shirt she borrowed from me, and the sight makes me even harder.
“I’ll let it slide this time, sweetheart,” I say, gently pulling her hips back against my dick, holding my breath against the rush of pleasure.
She arches her back against me, rubbing me through the flannel of my pajama pants, and I bury my face in her neck, biting her harder.
“But you’ll have to pay the price,” I finish.
I reach in between her legs and find her soft and wet, my fingers instantly slippery. I slide them between her lips and she groans, bending further over the stove and pushing her hips back against me, my stiff cock between her buttocks, two layers of clothing separating us.
“This wet and you still got out of bed this morning,” I growl into her neck. “I must be doing something wrong if you didn’t want to wake me up.”
She stifles another moan, biting her lip as I circle my fingers around her clit. I can feel the tremor it sends through her body, and it makes me suck in my breath, every nerve suddenly aflame.
“I wanted to surprise you,” she says, her voice breathy with lust. “Did it work?”
“I’m surprised, all right,” I say.
Ruby makes another little noise in her throat, her chest heaving against the thin material of the shirt she’s wearing. I can’t believe how sexy she is right now — even though she’s standing in front of a stove, her hair wild with bedhead, wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of mine, I might want her right now more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Something feral is rising inside me, something animalistic and wild. I have to force myself to stay calm, to only grab her hard and grind my cock against her instead of bending her over the kitchen counter and taking her hard and deep right here, right now.
But that can’t be her first time. Not like that.
So instead I lift her, draping her arm around my neck. She yelps as I do it, then laughs, nuzzling my face with hers.
“I was cooking,” she says, her voice teasing.
“Are you sure?” I say. “Was that food?”
I carry her to one of the wooden chairs in my kitchen and sit, putting her on my lap. She kisses me instantly, her hands in my hair, and I open her mouth with mine and claim her.
I want to do more than just taste her. I want to be the last man she ever kisses, the first thing she thinks about when she wakes up. Ruby is it for me and I’ve known that for a long time.
It’s kisses like this, wild and passionate and all-consuming, that let me fantasize that maybe, maybe I’m it for her, too.
In a flash Ruby’s straddling me, her face above mine, her arms around my neck. The chair creaks slightly under our combined weight but I built it, so I know it’s not going anywhere.
I grab her ass with both hands and squeeze. She’s so fucking perfect that I can’t stand it. The way she moans softly, her forehead against mine as she rolls her hips, makes me just about ready to explode.
“Jax,” she says quietly, the word half-moan.
“Yes, sweetheart?” I murmur.
I grip her tighter, and Ruby’s thighs lock around my hips. My cock is right up against her heated center, and she grinds herself against me slowly, eyes fluttering closed at the pleasure.
“This is better than pancakes.”
I chuckle, pulling her in, letting her ride me. The friction of her heat against my stiff cock is electric, so perfect that I couldn’t bring her to stop even if I wanted to. She keeps moving, rolling her hips against me. Ruby’s using my body to get herself off, and I can’t think of anything more beautiful.
She keeps going, her whole body rocking with this perfect, sweet rhythm as she leans into me, silently demanding more. I slide my hands under the shirt she’s wearing, brush my work-roughened palms over her stiff, puffy nipples.
Ruby groans, and I do it again. I’m trying to ignore the building tension in my cock and the fact that I might be about to come in my pants for the first time since I was a teenager, and I draw tiny circles on her nipples with the pads of my thumbs. I listen to the way the timbre and rhythm of her moans change every time I do, like I’m playing an exquisite instrument.
And I keep watching her build until she can’t control herself, her fingernails biting into my shoulders, her body shivering and shuddering at my touch. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to ignore my own physical response and focus on her.
Suddenly, she whispers something I can’t quite hear.
“Again,” I tell her, rolling her nipples between my fingers.
Ruby opens her mouth, but no sound comes out as she bucks against me slowly. I can feel the tremor that goes through her as her clit rides the length of my shaft, and she swallows hard.
“Be my first,” she whispers.
I don’t answer her. I can’t. I can only grab her by the waist, cover her mouth with mine, and pull her body to me.
“Please, Jax,” she goes on, still whispering. “I want it to be you.”
She grinds against me again, shuddering, a moan escaping her lips.
“Now,” she murmurs. “Jax, I need you now, I can’t wait—”
I kiss her hard, slide my thumb under her panties. I’m nearly shaking, torn between the animal desire to do exactly what she’s asking me to do and the knowledge that she’s wrong, I’m not what she needs.