It’s so much more delicious when it’s room temperature.
I’m absolutely dropping by later with scones and clotted creamfrom the tea shop for him. I don’t care what favors I have to call in to pull off a to-go order.
Fletcher visibly bites the inside of his cheek like that’s what it’s taking to keep him from smiling at me as he flips the eggs onto two plates.
A moment later, I have eggs in front of me.
Fletcher doesn’t sit.
He hovers across the high countertop.
I take the spiciest hot sauce and shake it on my eggs.
He takes the bottle from me, our fingers brushing and sending an electric current from my hands to my pussy, and shakes even more hot sauce on his eggs than I put on mine.
I meet his eyes.
Game on, they say.You really like it spicy?
If his father weren’t here, spicy eggs would definitely lead us back to the bedroom.
I take a bite, and are you kidding me?
Drool slips out of my mouth. I slurp it back in and wipe my lips. “What did you put in these eggs?”
“Secret ingredient.” He takes a bite of his own eggs, larger than mine, with more hot sauce, and stares at me without blinking while he chews and swallows.
“Are they actually the best eggs I’ve ever eaten, or am I just in a good mood?”
He smirks.
I take another bite, then decide I need more hot sauce.
He shakes more hot sauce onto his eggs too.
So I add a dollop more to mine as well.
We both stare at each other as we take giant bites.
Shew.
Spicy.
Shame, actually, since those eggs are freaking delicious with less spice, but I know what game Fletcher’s playing here.
And he knows what game I’m playing.
And it’s fun as hell.
Even if my mouth is starting to burn.
His cheeks take on a pink hue when he takes his next bite.
My ears are sweating before I’m done with my next bite.
Don’t ask about my tongue.
And that’s before he makes a thoughtful noise, turns to the cabinet next to his fridge, and pulls out a black bottle with a flaming asteroid on the label. “Still needs something hotter,” he says.
