“That would be great.” He wasn’t ready to leave just yet.
“You have a choice of croissant, French roll or regular sliced bread.”
“I’ll have whatever you have. Do you need any help?”
“Nope,” she answered. “It’ll only take me a few minutes.” Simona gestured to the kitchen table. “Have a seat.”
Donovan sat at the table and watched her move around the kitchen. His eyes were glued to the skirt stretched tight across her bottom as she bent and pulled two containers and a head of lettuce from the refrigerator. His hands itched to touch her and hear her scream his name again. To distract himself, he asked, “Do you cook every night when you get off work?”
“Most nights. Then there are those times when I’ll have a salad or sandwich, like tonight. Do you cook?”
He laughed. “I can cook a few things. My eggs are no longer brown, and my steaks aren’t as hard as a brick, so I consider that a success.”
She turned from the counter. “You can’t cook? Then how have you been eating all these years?”
“I have a housekeeper who cooks most of the time. Before that, I ate out...a lot, and Terrence used to take pity on me when I showed up at his house. The boy can throw down.”
Simona shook her head. “That’s pitiful, Donovan.”
He grinned sheepishly and shrugged. “It’s just me at home, so...”
She brought two plates to the table and went back for napkins and forks. “I have apple and orange juice, and water. Pick your poison.”
“Orange juice.” After placing the items on the table, she took a seat. “Thank you. This looks good,” he said of the chicken salad sandwich on a croissant and fruit salad.
“You’re welcome.”
They ate in silence for a while. “What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?”
“Eleven. I get up at eight, though. Miss Yasmine will be up at eight-thirty and ready for breakfast.”
He checked his watch—9:45 p.m.—plenty of time. When they finished, he insisted on washing the dishes, since she had fed him.
“You really didn’t have to do the dishes,” Simona said as they settled on the sofa.
Donovan drew her against him and draped his arm around her shoulder. “It was the least I could do.” He traced the curve of her cheek with his finger and touched his mouth to hers, teasing the corners with tiny licks until she opened. Her tongue tangled with his, enticing and arousing him beyond any kiss he could remember. He lifted his head briefly. “You’re pretty good at this.”
“You think so?” She used her tongue to trace his bottom lip. “I’m just trying to keep up with you,” she said seductively.
“Oh, yeah? Well, let’s see how well you can keep up.” Donovan used a finger to trace a path from her lips, jaw and neck to the soft, ripe rise of her breasts, and followed it with his mouth. He hooked a finger in the strap of her top and slowly dragged it down to expose a gold strapless bra. “I like this,” he murmured, kissing the tops of her breasts and easing the bra down. “Mmm, but I like these even more.” He circled his tongue around a taut nipple and drew it into his mouth.
“Donovan,” Simona moaned.
He loved hearing his name on her lips. She grasped the back of his head and arched her body closer for more. He obliged, transferring his kisses to her other breast. Donovan repositioned their bodies until she lay flat on her back and he was stretched out over her, loving the feel of her body against his. “You are absolute perfection.”
She smiled up at him while unbuttoning his shirt. “I could say the same thing about you.” She ran her hands over his bare chest and abdomen. “Yeah, perfection.”
His muscles contracted beneath her searing touch, drawing a low hiss from him. He reclaimed her mouth, feeding on the sweetness within. She reached between them and cupped him through his slacks. Donovan groaned. “That’s dangerous territory, sweetheart. Doing that will get you in trouble.”
“Is that so? You said you wanted to see if I could keep up.” She moved her hand over his length and squeezed gently.
He sucked in a sharp breath. With blinding speed, he was up and had her in his arms. “Bedroom.”
“Third door on the left.”
Donovan strode down the hall to her bedroom and placed her on the bed. She made an alluring picture—hair spread out over the pillow, top down around her waist, breasts still glistening and her skirt open, sensually displaying her long, toned legs. Every nerve in his body throbbed with desire.