Clearly fighting a smile, she shook her head. “In that case, how about pancakes?”
“Your wish is my command.” Jackson kissed the tip of her nose. He was pretty sure he had all of the ingredients, but even if he didn’t, he’d figure a way to make it happen. Considering he’d move heaven and earth for this woman, pancakes weren’t much of a stretch.
Jackson rolled out of bed and tugged on shorts and a tank top. He tossed Essie one of his short-sleeve tees, because seeing her wearing his stuff was a massive turn-on for him. “You’re on coffee detail.”
It wasn’t long before the air in the kitchen was heavy with the aromas of coffee and blueberry pancakes. He fried some bacon while he was at it, because why the hell not? They’d burned a ton of calories today, and he wanted his woman to have plenty of energy for what he’d planned for tonight.
“Can I help with anything else?” Essie asked as she gathered plates and silverware from the bullet-ridden cabinets. The plates were new; all of the old ones had been destroyed during Bazarov’s assault. Not a whole lot had survived, just the silverware, utensils, a few pots and pans, and two very lucky beer mugs that happened to be in the freezer when all hell broke loose.
“No, I’m good. You want two or three pancakes?”
“I don’t know; how big are they?” She peered around him to check the small stack of pancakes on a plate by the stove. “I’ll go with three.”
“You got it, gorgeous. You want any bacon?”
“Do you really need to ask?”
Chuckling, he loaded two plates, handed one to her, and followed her to the dining room table, mesmerized by the sway of her hips with every step she took.
Jackson sipped his coffee and used the mug to cover one of the spots where a bullet had punched a hole in the wood. In spite of the damage, he and Navarre had decided to keep it. There were only a few holes, no big deal for them. Besides, it gave the table character and made for one hell of a conversation starter.
Essie ate a forkful of pancakes and moaned like she had each time he’d slid into her. It wiped out every thought in his head and made him instantly hard.
“If you keep that up, we won’t make it through the meal.”
A wicked smile warmed her face. With her eyes on his, she ran her index finger through the syrup on her plate and licked it clean. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Russ.”
It was all he could do not to maul her right then and there.
Jackson bolted his food down like a starving hyena and cleaned up around the kitchen while Essie took her good sweet time eating her meal. As soon as she put the last bite into her mouth, he took the plate and fork from her and loaded them into the dishwasher.
Coffee mug in hand, she stood. “What’s your hurry?”
He caged her between the table and his body, slid the mug from her grip, and set it aside.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her eyes all soft and innocent, though her lips were on the verge of a smile.
“Meal’s over. Time for dessert.”
She arched one eyebrow. “Most people don’t eat dessert after breakfast.”
“Good thing it’s dinnertime.”
He lowered his head to claim her mouth, and just like every other time he kissed her, it felt as if he’d just come in contact with ten thousand volts. Not that he minded, it felt fucking amazing, and he couldn’t wait to take her back to his room. Then again…he gripped her trim waist and hoisted her onto the table.
“We should go to the bedroom,” she murmured against his mouth.
“Uh-uh. I want you right here.” He grazed his teeth over the sweet spot on her neck, and the delicate shiver that rippled over her skin sent a bolt of lust straight through him.
And here he’d thought he might have enough self-control to take things slowly. Oh well, maybe next time. Or the time after that. If he had his way, they’d still be at it just like this when they were collecting Social Security.
As his mouth skimmed over her sensitive skin, he placed a hand on her outer thigh. Slowly, he nudged the T-shirt up, and his pulse ratcheted up a notch when he noticed she wasn’t wearing panties. A little higher, and she raised her arms over her head, and they broke contact just long enough for him to pull the shirt off and drop it to the floor.
Drunk with desire, Jackson palmed one breast as he kissed her again, and he loved the soft little sound she made as her body arched against him. Already he was painfully hard, and when she cupped his dick through the fabric of his shorts, he damn near lost the ability to think. If he didn’t get inside her soon—
Every muscle in Essie’s body went rigid. She pulled back and looked over his shoulder. “What was that?”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
