Water droplets still drip from the ends of my hair as I enter the kitchen. Each one making my cotton shirt cling to my warm skin.
I’d told River to wear whatever she wanted, and fuck, I wish I’d said otherwise.
Her long legs are on display, thick but toned in a pair of navy blue boxer briefs and nothing but one of my white t-shirts. Her dark nipples are visible through the thin fabric. Hardened peaks staring straight at me. The sight does nothing to control my erection, her eyes darting down to my crotch before averting her gaze.
“You were taking a long time, so I cooked. I’m not pleasant to be around when I’m hangry.”
Knowing she already saw exactly what she does to me, I don’t hesitate to slide up behind her. My arms cage her against the kitchen island. River is taller than most of the women I’ve been with, but still just short enough that her ass doesn’t hit my pelvis. Yet, she finds a way, her round behind pressing against my hard length.
“I could definitely eat.”
“I hope steak and home fries are okay?”
“Not very healthy for a doctor,” my nose runs up the side of her throat. Her breaths quicken, lips parting, that ass still grinding against me.
“I never said I was a health freak. I’m a surgeon, not the calorie police.”
My lips brush over her jaw, her back flush against my front. “If you keep moving like that, I’m going to nut in my pants, and then we’ll need another shower.”
A choked gasp leaves her before she ducks under my arm. She moves quickly, opening every cabinet before closing each one again. She finally finds the plates, pulling out two before haphazardly transferring our food. Her eyes never find mine again, so I just watch. I like the way River looks in my kitchen. In my clothes. In my space.
Being this drawn to someone so quickly can’t be normal, but according to most, I’m not normal.
I’m insane. A man who enjoys riding those merciless bulls for a living must also be one with a death wish. Like River with my cows this morning, it’s the only place I feel free.
“Come on before it gets cold.”
River carries both plates to the breakfast nook table just off the kitchen, setting them side by side instead of across from each other. Yet, she doesn’t sit. Those vibrant eyes bounce between the two chairs as if she can’t decide which one is the least offensive.
Choosing for her, I slide out the chair she’d put one of the plates in front of. “Sit.” She doesn’t hesitate, allowing me to push it in for her.
“Thank you.”
Bending low, I press a soft kiss to her cheek. “‘Course.”
Sitting in the seat beside her, we eat in silence. Not the kind that makes you itch. The kind you find with someone who matches your energy. You can share an entire conversation without actual words. Companionship I didn’t even know like this with Stacy.
“Do you cook a lot?”
River stops mid-chew, her fork dropping to her half-empty plate. “Yeah, I do. My grandmother lives near me and so I like to make sure she eats right.”
“What about your parents?”
A heavy sigh leaves her, eyes focused on her plate before they find mine. “Unlike me, they got out of here as soon as they could. I’m the youngest of four, so when I left for college, they left for Florida beaches.”
“Brothers or sisters?”
I know by the glint in her eyes she’s going to say brothers. And if they are as tough as her, they might kick my ass for taking their baby sister home the first night and fucking her the way I did.
“I’m the only girl. Kane is the oldest. Maybe forty-five now. Jaxon is next. He turns forty this year. And then Warner is thirty-eight. Jaxon is my favorite, though.”
“Wait! How old are you?”
Her eyes search mine. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s worried about telling me her age or if it’s because she knows mine. “Thirty-five.”
“I’m thirty-two.”
“I know,” she whispers, her focus tracking back to her food.
