Jesse raised his eyebrows in unmistakable invitation, and somehow lunch got put back until Jesse had come, shuddering and crying out, on Matt’s fingers deep inside him.
It didn’t take him long to recover, and after giving Matt another mind-blowing orgasm, he rolled out of bed. “Believe someone said something ‘bout lunch,” he said, bending down for his jeans and then staggering enough he had to grab the dresser for balance.
Matt smirked. “Something wrong?”
“You know damn well, Urban.” Jesse shot him a withering look.
Matt laughed as he got up and headed toward the shower. “Come on, then,” he said. “I’ll wash your back.”
The shower was brief, mostly because of Jesse’s mutterings about the fact he didn’t intend to die of starvation just cause he’d gotten laid.
Matt shook his head and let Jesse steal the towel.
* * *
Finally dressed and in the kitchen, Jesse took the coffee Matt handed him. “You ever think you might have an addiction?” he asked. “Don’t think I’ve seen you without a coffee since I arrived.”
“Better than bourbon,” Matt said, with a little too much truth. “Anyway, you haven’t refused one yet.”
He got out the eggs, bacon and ingredients for pancakes—about the extent of his cooking skills—and it was only once he’d started heating a pan that he realized Jesse hadn’t said anything further. He looked around to see Jesse leaning against the counter,barefoot in frayed jeans, layered t-shirts hiding what Matt now knew was a whipcord body, lean and strong.
But Jesse wasn’t really seeing the kitchen at all. Something distant was in his eyes, that old watchfulness slipping back like a shadow. Like everything was a threat.
“You with me, Turner?” Matt asked as he cracked eggs into the pan.
Jesse started slightly. “Yeah,” he said. “Just thinkin’.”
“Dangerous habit.”
Jesse snorted, but didn’t say anything. He took a sip of coffee and watched Matt cook.
“You do this every day?” he asked.
Matt raised an eyebrow. “Eat? Yes, Jesse, I eat every day.”
“No, I mean this.” Jesse waved his hand around, possibly encompassing Matt at the stove, or possibly indicating the entire town of Elk Ridge. “Just feels weird.”
“I could put on a frilly apron if that’d make it less weird,” Matt offered. He didn’t know how to deal with Jesse’s statement that a home-cooked meal was out of the ordinary.
Jesse snorted, and then he put his coffee down to steal across the kitchen on silent feet, a predatory grace in his movement.
“Might just hold you to that,” he said, getting right into Matt’s space and reaching up to kiss him.
Matt intended to keep one eye on the pan, but Jesse curled his fingers into his belt loops and yanked. And suddenly the pan, the stove, the whole damn world was a distant second to Jesse.
“Yeah,” Jesse said, drawing back at last from the kiss and looking satisfied. “Definitely going to hold you to that.”
Matt had to scrape the burnt mess out of the pan and cook more eggs, but by the time they were ready, Jesse had plates ready to go and silverware on the table. He’d also found the maple syrup.Without waiting for the pancakes, he’d poured some onto his fingers and was sucking it off.
How the hell Matt didn’t burn the second lot of eggs, he’d never know. But Jesse wasn’t actually trying to kill Matt—it appeared it was just a continuation of his love affair with sugar.
“You ever think you might have an addiction?” Matt asked, watching Jesse stir sugar into his coffee.
Jesse shot a glance at him, equal parts amusement and annoyance, before very deliberately helping himself to another spoonful of sugar. “Least this ain’t gonna keep me up at night.” He paused, dragged his finger through the maple syrup on his plate and sucked it off. Andthistime, he meant it suggestively, his eyes holding Matt’s. “I mean, isn’t that your job?”
Reluctantly, Matt pushed his chair back. He could stay here all afternoon watching Jesse, but he had work to do and the day was passing. “I’d better get to the chores,” he said.
Jesse groaned theatrically but forced himself to his feet. “Goddamn,don’t you ever stop?”
