"Ah, why not?" He nibbled on her earlobe.
"I have to work tomorrow." Even as she said the words, she was grinning.
He fondled her breast. "Still no?"
"Still no."
"Hmm." The man shoved his hand into her pajama bottoms and stuck his finger inside of her pussy, making her suck in air. "How about now?"
Groaning, she stared at her fiancé as her cunt pulsed with desire.
"All right, just one more time," she said. "Only one more."
"One more it is, sweetheart." Sebastian winked and kissed her.
Chapter Six
The next morning, Emmy cursed as her alarm clock went off. She couldn't believe that it was morning already. She sat up and glanced down at Sebastian who was lying at her side. Her exhaustion was his entire fault. One sex session had turned into two and then three. Okay, she may have agreed to make love every time, but really, who could say no to Sebastian? The man fiddled with her girlie bits and suddenly, she was willing to fuck all night.
Sighing, Emmy climbed out of bed, half wanting to whack him over the head with a pillow to rouse him from his sleep. Fortunately—or maybe unfortunately—no whacking was needed. Sebastian sat up, looking as gorgeous as ever despite the fact it was so early.
"You don't have to get out of bed." Though if he did, she'd at least have somebody to be tired with.
"Yes, I do. I'm going to the bakery." Sebastian yawned. "After all, I promised I'd keep you safe, didn't I?"
"Well, yeah." She just hadn't thought that meant he'd come with her to work.
"Trust me, I take protecting you seriously." Sebastian climbed out of bed, looking scrumptious with his tight ass and his bulging muscles.
Unfortunately, Sebastian saw her gawking. "We might have time for one more round of hot sex before we go."
"No." She glared at him.
"I bet I could turn that no into a yes." He gave her a seductive grin.
Since she also bet that he could turn her no into a yes, she did the only thing she could in order to keep her hoo-haw safe from her lack of self-control—she locked herself in the bathroom.
Sebastian roared with laughter outside of the bathroom door. "Nice. Real mature."
"Oh, go get the coffee started, you lecher," she said.
"Lecher?" He feigned hurt. "I believe it was you who jumped on top of me in the middle of the night."
Her face burned. "I was on my way to the bathroom and lost my balance while getting out of bed."
"Excuses, excuses." Sebastian laughed again.
"If you were in here with me, I'd throttle you," she said.
"Sure you would, sweetheart." Sebastian snorted.
"One of these times, you'll push me too far."
"Jeez, you're feisty in the morning," he said.
"Just make me some coffee before I commit homicide." If she didn't have caffeine in her system soon, she wasn't sure what she'd do.
"I'm on it," he said.
After she was certain that Sebastian had gone into the kitchen, she washed her face and brushed her teeth. Just as she was pulling her hair into a ponytail, Sebastian's words from last night floated into her head: "No, sweetheart, I'm saying that I'm a…a…werewolf." For some odd reason, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
"I really am the most naive human being on the face of the planet." She fluffed her bangs as she glared at her reflection.
Sebastian had been messing with her. She shouldn't believe a word of what she said. After she forced all thoughts of werewolves from her mind, she stepped out of the bathroom. Unfortunately, that was when she smelled something burning. Not good.
She hurriedly rushed into the kitchen. Sebastian had not only started the coffee, he was also cooking bacon. Or, more rather, burning bacon.
"What the hell are you doing?" Bacon was a holy food. It shouldn't be tarnished.
"Cooking breakfast?" Sebastian glanced at her sheepishly.
She looked down at the cinders in the frying pan. "This was beyond cooked two minutes ago. I believe what you have now is called ash."
"I bet it's still edible." Sebastian reached to pick a piece of bacon out of the frying pan.
"It's still hot. Don't—"
Sebastian grabbed the piece of bacon and then dropped it in a hurry. "Son of a bitch!"
"Grab it." She sighed in exasperation.
"Ouch." He glared at the bad burn on his finger.
"Oh, good grief." She shook her head. "I've seen five-year-olds with more sense."
"You aren't the pitying type, are you?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Not when I see a full-grown man stick his finger in a smoldering skillet I'm not." Yet even as she said the words, she grabbed a paper towel in order to clean his wound.