I smile as I continue to knead. "These hands can work all sorts of things."
Her breath catches audibly, and I suppress a grin. The domesticity of the moment should feel strange—I've never made breakfast for a woman before, never lingered in someone else's kitchen wearing nothing but underwear and an apron. Yet with Noa, it feels natural, as if I've been doing this for years instead of just hours.
"Patience," I tell her, both about the bread and the clear desire in her eyes. "Good things come to those who wait."
She slips behind me, wraps her arms around my waist, and presses her cheek between my shoulder blades. "I think I've established I'm not very patient."
I laugh, covering her hands with my flour-dusted ones. "Fair point."
For a moment, we stand connected and still, the dough forgotten on the counter. Then my phone buzzes insistently from the living room, breaking the spell.
"Ignore it," she murmurs against my skin.
"Wouldn't dream of touching it." I gently extract myself from her embrace, slide the dough into a bowl, and cover it with a kitchen towel to let it rise. The timer on her oven dings, and Noa points out a blue potholder decorated with snowflakes.
I grab the pastries from the oven and arrange them on a plate, gesturing down the hall with my free hand. "Get back in there. Naked."
Noa giggles as she rushes down the hall. I love playing with her this way. I feel so comfortable, so incredibly turned on.
She slips beneath the covers, providing me with a perfect view of her backside as she removes the robe.
I climb into bed beside her and sit against the headboard, not caring that my erection is obvious. Even after our intense session, my body already wants her again. At forty-five, I haven't reacted this way to a woman in years. Maybe never.
"My favorite late-night snack," she says, reaching over me for the plate. Her nipples brush against my legs, already hard. She wants me again, too.
I pick up a pastry, bite into the soft dough. Sweet cranberry sauce fills my mouth, and crumbs dust my chest. "Your dad made these, too?"
She nods and selects one for herself. "The more anxious he gets, the more delicious the results."
"He must be ready to stroke out," I tell her, wolfing down one of the pastries. "What's he stressed about?"
She shrugs, a small smile on her lips. "Probably worried I'll never find a man and settle down..." She takes a bite, and a dot of bright red filling clings to her lower lip.
My body responds instantly and hardens completely at the sight, even though I should be scared right the hell off by her mention of settling down. I lean forward and catch her chin between my fingers. "You've got a little..."
Her eyes widen as I close the distance, my tongue capturing the sticky sweetness from her lip. She tastes of butter, fruit, and sex, a combination that makes me groan against her mouth.
"Brian," she whispers as I pull back, her pupils dilated.
"I think I need to be more thorough," I tell her, taking the pastry from her hand. Deliberately, I smear a streak of filling across her collarbone and watch her breath catch. "You're getting messy."
I lower my head, trail my tongue along the sticky path, and savor the contrast between sweet sauce and salty skin. Her hands find my hair, fingers threading through the strands.
"More," she demands, voice shaky.
I take another bite of the pastry, letting sauce collect on my fingers. With deliberate slowness, I push the blankets away, exposing her breasts. I draw a sticky line down the slope of one mound and circle her nipple.
"Look at that," I murmur, my voice thick. "You're such a mess, Noa."
I lean down to clean her skin with long, slow strokes of my tongue. Her nipple hardens further against my mouth, and I suck the peak between my lips, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.
"The sheets," she protests weakly, even as she arches into my touch.
"I'll buy you new ones." I switch to her other breast and give it the same treatment. The plate of pastries tips precariously at the edge of the bed, but neither of us moves to save it.
My hands push down her body, finding her already wet. "Is that for me?" Her cheeks pink up as she nods and bites her lower lip.
She lifts her hips and lets me drag a hand down her legs. I've barely enjoyed the soft expanse of skin before she's reaching for me, pulling my mouth back to hers for a desperate kiss.
