Sensual Confessions - Brenda Jackson [70]
He leaned against one of the kitchen counters and crossed his legs at the ankle. “I’m sure there are some dishes you could probably make better than me, but I’m confident that I can hold my own.”
Sam turned and removed the frying pan from the stove before turning back to him. She took the bacon out of the frying pan and placed it on a platter. “You want to explain how that came about?”
She glanced up at the exact moment a smile touched his lips. “Easily,” he said. “Felicia Laverne Madaris, my great-grandmother. She made sure all her sons, grandsons and great-grandsons knew their way around the kitchen, regardless of whether we wanted to or not. Some of us fared better than others, but all of us have our specialties. Luke has his casseroles and Slade is the best when it comes to preparing a well-balanced meal any time of day.”
She nodded. “And what’s your specialty?”
He smiled broadly, which gave Sam a sensation like a shot to the bottom of her belly. “I can handle just about anything,” he said in a deep, husky tone. “But my specialty is desserts.”
She felt the heat settle between her legs and felt the tips of her breasts harden against her top. She swallowed deeply, wondering if he could gauge her body’s reaction to his words. Desserts. That would always be a hot topic for them. She couldn’t hear the word without thinking of a parked car, being physically aroused and having oral sex.
She looked away from him and began cleaning the frying pan before putting it in the dishwasher. She knew she had to say something or the heat between them would steam up her kitchen.
“Ahh, if you still want to help, you can go ahead and set the table,” she said.
“Sure thing.”
She could hear the sound of his footsteps across the kitchen floor, then him opening her cabinets, removing dishes, glasses and eating utensils. She then went to the refrigerator to take out the orange juice. The blast of cool air was just what she needed, but it did nothing to alleviate the tingling sensation that was still pulsing between her legs. She probably needed a cold shower to get rid of that. He hadn’t been in her house more than ten minutes—ten nerve-racking minutes—and already her body was betraying her.
She inhaled a deep breath as she closed her refrigerator door. She would get through breakfast with him this morning, even if it killed her.
Blade was convinced that this was one breakfast he wouldn’t survive, since Sam’s outfit was practically killing him. Talk about being hot. He’d always thought she had gorgeous legs, but he was really starting to go crazy over those luscious brown thighs. And when she bent over to put the frying pan in the dishwasher, he had actually seen her rounded cheeks. Of course, there was the memory of having gone halfway inside her that was driving him crazy, making his erection throb uncontrollably.
Deciding it was best to shift his gaze elsewhere to get his sex-obsessed thoughts under control, he looked at her china and studied the pattern. Not that he really cared, but it was better than standing there and drooling over her. He thought the design was pretty, just like her. His great-grandmother once said you could tell a lot about a woman by the dishes she used.
He studied the plate in his hand. It was a cool green. He could see that the smooth, transparent surface of the china was made with fine craftsmanship and beauty. And those were the same qualities he saw in her.
“How are things coming over there?”
He glanced at her. His eyes traced her body, from her painted toes to the tousled hair on her head. She was curvy, downright luscious looking. Her beauty was enough to steal his breath and make him proud he was a man. He was determined more than ever to finish what they’d started two nights ago.
Sexual tension was building between them and he knew she could feel it just as he could. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen with platters in her hand, looking