“Damn you,” I whispered.
His chest rumbled with a laugh. “That a yes?”
I shook my head as my fingers toyed with the hem of his T-shirt. “Smile first, then fuck me on the counter.”
“Nope.” In a flash, he was gone, the cold air rushing into the space where he’d been standing, causing goose bumps to tickle my forearms.
“Wha—seriously?”
He picked up the knife and went back to the onion. “Hustle with the eggs. They need to go in first.”
I scowled. “This is the worst cooking lesson in the history of the world.”
I wasn’t sure how the man could laugh without smiling, but he did. Dakota’s rumble filled the kitchen, echoing off the cabinets.
The corner of my lips turned up as I took an egg from the carton. I cracked the shell on the side of the bowl, like he’d showed me how to do two mornings ago, then plopped the yolk and whites in the dish before tossing the shell into the sink.
We’d started with the basics for breakfast lessons over the past two days, simple scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. But today, he was graduating me to an omelet.
“How many?” I asked.
“Do six. We’ll make one and split it.”
I nodded, concentrating on the eggs so I didn’t get any shell in the bowl. When they were cracked, I splashed in some milk then whipped them up with a fork.
My personal chef, Carrie, would be so proud if she could see me now. I thought about taking a selfie and sending it to her, but then I realized she was on vacation too. She probably didn’t want to hear from her boss.
“What’s next?” I asked.
“Dump those into the pan, but instead of stirring them, we’ll let them sit until they firm up.”
“Okay.” I followed his instruction, pouring the beaten eggs into the pan where he’d already melted a tablespoon of butter.
From the fridge, Dakota pulled out some ham and a block of cheese. I dug out the grater, having learned how to use it yesterday, and began shredding some cheese onto a plate.
“Why do you want to see me smile?” Dakota asked as he diced some ham.
“Just because.”
The real reason was going to stay my little secret.
Because I’d been trying to memorize it over the past three days. I wanted to see it enough while I was here that I could picture it when I was gone.
When I remembered Dakota years from now, I wanted it to be with him smiling. But he didn’t smile often, and I wasn’t the type to see something once and commit it permanently. A picture would be better, but if he wouldn’t smile for me, the chances of getting it on my phone weren’t good.
He put down the knife again and covered my hands with his own, interrupting my cheese grating. “Tell me.”
“It makes me happy to see you smile.”
It was the truth. Part of it, at least.
Dakota’s eyes searched mine for a long moment, then his soft lips parted, revealing his straight, white teeth in an easy smile.
My heart stuttered, thumping hard as it worked back to its regular rhythm.
Dakota’s smile was something else. It was beautiful. It was as bold and mesmerizing as everything else about the man.
And he’d given it to me because it made me happy.
The sharp burn in my throat made me panic—this was not the time to cry. So I concentrated on one detail of Dakota’s smile, committing it to memory.
He had such nice teeth. I didn’t need a thousand more smiles to remember them. Like most people, the canines were pointed and slightly longer than the front four. But Dakota’s were more pronounced.
“You have vampire teeth.”
He chuckled, his smile widening. “What?”
“These ones.” I reached out and touched the sharp tip of his incisor. “They’re long. Almost like vampire teeth.”
Dakota’s tongue darted out and touched my finger. I dropped it from his mouth as he lowered his head, ducking under my chin and setting his lips on the soft flesh of my neck. He nipped at me with his pointed teeth, my breath catching as he licked the spot of the careful bite.
“Do it again,” I whispered.
He lifted, moving in a flash to the other side of my neck. Then he nipped and licked me again. “Breakfast?”
I shook my head, letting my eyes fall shut and my head loll to the side.
Dakota stepped away from me for a moment, turning off the stove’s burner. Then his heat returned as he picked me up and set me on the counter.
I pushed the cheese grater and cutting board out of the way then wiggled to the edge so my center was right up against his growing arousal.
He latched on to my neck, sucking just below my ear as he ground his thickness into my damp center.
I moaned, wrapping a leg around his hip just as he broke away.
“Fuck. Need to go grab a condom.”
My hands shot to his shoulders, keeping him from leaving. “Wait. Do we need one?”
His eyes went liquid black. “I got tested six months ago. Always used condoms since.”
“I haven’t been with anyone since my last checkup.”
His smile turned sexy and a bit dangerous, like I was going to be his breakfast. He could eat me for lunch too, I wouldn’t protest.
I reached for the waistband of my silk pajama shorts, rocking on the counter until I had them off my hips and down my thighs. Dakota didn’t step back or give me space as he shoved the elastic of his sweats to his knees and kicked them away. Then he dragged my shorts down so I could swing them off my feet.
He whipped my tank off, grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt from behind his neck and yanked it over his head. His cock was a steel rod between us, poised at my slick entrance.
My hands gripped his bare shoulders, my eyes closed and heart racing as I waited to feel him without any barriers. But Dakota didn’t move.
I waited two thundering heartbeats then dared to crack my eyelids.
Dakota was waiting, his chest heaving, as he silently asked if I was sure he could have me bare.
“Yes.”
One word and he thrust forward, pulling my knees onto him as he impaled me.
“Fuck,” he groaned as I cried out.
I collapsed forward, giving him my weight. He stayed rooted, pushing me back so my ass was on the counter as I stretched around him.
“So good,” I moaned. “So, so good. Keep going.”
“I need a sec or I’m gonna come already.”
I smiled into his neck, squeezing my inner muscles around him.
“Goddamn it, Sofia,” he grunted. “Knock that shit off. I’m not going to last as it is.”
“Sorry.” I wasn’t.
Making Dakota lose control was my latest obsession.
He pulled out slowly then eased back inside, making my legs shake as they dangled by his thighs.
My breaths were jagged. My heartbeat erratic. Dakota wasn’t the only one who was ready to come. The man’s silken flesh inside my tight heat was the best—the most incredible—sexual moment of my life.
“Give me your mouth.”
I straightened from the crook of his neck, lifting my chin so he could claim my lips.
His tongue slid inside my mouth at the same time his cock thrust deep. The two of us were fused together, clinging to one another as he moved in and out, setting the pace.
Dakota liked control when we were together. It was something I’d learned over the last three nights spent between his bedsheets. The dominance was a different experience, something I hadn’t had with another man. It was thrilling to just let go and trust that he’d get me to my peak.
Not once did I have to ask him to do something different. I didn’t need to worry that he’d get so focused on chasing his own release that he’d forget about mine. Every one of my orgasms had been real.
Even with my hair in a messy knot, still wet since I’d showered and hadn’t dried it yet. Even without a swipe of makeup. He made me feel like
the sexiest, most desired woman on earth.
We fucked on the counter, just like he’d promised. He brought me higher and higher until I exploded around him, coming with so much force my entire body felt like it was breaking apart.
Dakota came at the same time, groaning against my skin as he bit down on my shoulder, hard enough I hissed at the sting but not so hard that it hurt. It just made the pleasure spike for one more delicious second.
We held on to each other with sweaty limbs as we came down from the high. Our bodies stayed connected until Dakota’s release began to slide out, slicking down my inner thighs.
The sticky drops made me smile. “I need another shower.”
“Me too.” He kissed my temple then slid out. “You take the first one. I’ll finish breakfast and hop in after you.”
The clock on the oven showed we still had forty minutes before we had to be at the bar for work, but a rush of alarm had me jumping off the island. To do my hair, get dressed and put on makeup, I needed at least an hour.
I scurried out of the kitchen naked, my pajamas left piled on the floor with Dakota’s clothes.
My shower was fast, but it took time we didn’t have. I’d only just gotten my hair dried and curled in the time it took Dakota to take his own fresh shower, get dressed in some jeans, his boots and a long-sleeved Henley and finish our omelet. He brought me in a plate with half the omelet, the cheese oozing from the egg wrap. I devoured bites as I swiped on some foundation.
“We gotta go soon.”
“I’m hurrying.” I put my finishing powder away and got out an eye shadow palette. I glanced in the mirror to see Dakota leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, a steamy mug of coffee in his grip.
“You don’t need all that. We’re just going to work.”
I took out a brush from my case. “I don’t go out in public without makeup.”
I didn’t even go to the gym or the spa without makeup first. I’d sweat through it or my technician would wipe my face clean.
“No one at the Lark Cove Bar is going to care that you aren’t all done up today.”
“But I care.”
He pushed off the door, coming right into my space. He set his mug down next to my plate and pulled the hair off my shoulder. I was only wearing a towel wrapped around my chest, so he lowered his head and kissed the spot where he’d bitten me earlier. The faint outline of his teeth was still pink.
“Don’t you feel beautiful without it?” he asked.
“Yes. I don’t know.” No one had ever asked me that question before. I don’t think I’d really even asked myself. “I’ve just always worn makeup.”
“If it makes you feel good, put it on. We can be a few minutes late.” He ran his knuckles over my cheek. Then he kissed my hair, picked up his coffee cup and walked out of the bathroom with my empty plate.
My insides swirled, my lungs unable to get full. I used a minute I didn’t have to stare at the makeup brush in my hand. Then another minute to take a hard look at my reflection in the mirror.
My entire reflection.
Did makeup make me feel good? Yes. Did I feel beautiful without it?
I pulled my shoulders back and lifted my chin. My cheekbones hadn’t been contoured or highlighted. My eyes were still naked, and my lips were their natural pale pink.
Do I feel beautiful?
Yes. Yes, I did.
Except I’d been wearing makeup since I was twelve. It was more than just a habit, it was part of how I presented myself to the world.
Though, thanks to the magazine article, I had new doubts about that presentation.
Did I need it today? Not really. This was Lark Cove. There were no reporters or photographers here. I’d just be in the bar where the dark lighting was forgiving.
I put my brush away and rolled up my case, packing my makeup away. But before I put it all on the shelf Dakota had cleared for me during my stay, I grabbed my mascara, quickly swiping a single coat over my lashes.
Baby steps.
I hustled out of the bathroom, leaving the mirror before I could change my mind. I got dressed in some skinny jeans and a V-neck black sweater that cut low in the center, nearly to my pink lace bra. I tugged on Thea’s shoes, having claimed them for the rest of my trip, and walked out of the bedroom.
Dakota was waiting by the back door, his coat already on and mine in his hands.
The corner of his mouth twitched when he saw my face. He helped me into my coat and outside, across the icy walk to the door of his garage.
Then he drove us to work with a smile on his face.
Two hours later, Dakota and I were at the bar and little boots were running down the hallway from the back door.
I was standing around the corner, unable to see down the hallway, but I smiled as I waited to greet my nieces and nephew. Except the child that emerged was not a Kendrick.
It was Willa and Jackson’s little boy who came rushing in wearing a police officer’s costume. As he ran up to Dakota’s leg, I scrambled to remember his name.
Ryder was Jackson’s teenage brother. Their son was—it starts with an R—Roman. His name was Roman.
“Hey, bud.” Dakota ruffled his hair. “How’s it going?”
“Went skiing wif Daddy and Wyder!”
“Yeah?” Dakota grinned at him just as Jackson, Willa and Ryder emerged.
“Hey guys.” Jackson nodded to me and shook Dakota’s hand. Ryder did the same.
“How was vacation?” Dakota asked.
“Went skiing!” the little boy repeated. “On snow.”
“Yes, Roman went skiing on the snow.” Willa ran her fingers through her son’s blond hair, which matched her own, and came over to give me a hug. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You too.”
Since Jackson was practically Thea’s brother, Willa was a pseudo sister-in-law. Whenever there was a family event in Lark Cove, they were there, and I’d gotten to know her a bit over the years. She was sweet and shy.
And enormously pregnant.
“What are you guys doing here?” Dakota asked.
“Just wanted to stop by and see how things were going.” Jackson looked me up and down the same way Piper had days ago.
“Let me guess.” I rolled my eyes. “Thea and/or Logan called and asked you to check up on me.”
Jackson grinned. “You’d be right.”
“Those two need to learn how to take a vacation and stop worrying about me.”
I’d talked to both Thea and Logan on New Year’s Day. They’d called to see how the party had gone, and I’d assured them it had been a success. I’d also assured them I still had all my fingers and toes.
They must have thought I was lying.
“How did the party go?” Willa asked. “Was it fun?”
“It was a blast.” I smiled. “One of the best I’ve had in a long time.”
I ducked my head, hoping she wouldn’t be able to read my thoughts, which had quickly turned dirty as I thought back to how much of that night’s fun had been spent in Dakota’s bed.
“The place was packed,” Dakota told Jackson. “Ran out of Crown about eleven. Next year, we’ll have to stock up.”
As Jackson, Dakota and Ryder spoke about the upcoming NFL playoffs, Roman walked over to stand at his mother’s side.
“I like your costume,” I told him.
He pointed to his badge. “Cop.”
“This is Xavier’s doing.” Willa sighed. “He’s obsessed with this costume. Xavier convinced him he had to be a cop for Halloween, and he doesn’t want to wear anything else now. It’s a fight to get him into regular clothes for daycare. Since it’s just us today, I gave in and let him wear the costume.”
“It’s cute. Maybe he’ll join the police when he grows up.”
“Maybe.” Willa smiled down at her son. “Did you ever have a favorite Halloween costume?”
I thought over all of them and shook my head. “Princesses. There were a lot of princesses.”
“I was a princess once. Then I went through a long streak where I dressed up as a science teacher, complete with my safety goggles and white lab coat, because I wanted to grow up and be a teacher like my dad.”
“I wonder if Roman will stick with the cop costume.”
She shrugged. “Who knows? But he’s dedicated.”
I’d never had any excitement for a job, pretend or real. I envied Roman, the two-year-old boy who had more conviction for a costume than I’d had about much of anything lately.
If I could pick any job in the world, what would it be?
I had the freedom to go back to school if needed. I had complete financial flexibility to start my own business or make an investment. But what would it be? What was I so obsessed with that I’d be willing to make it a huge part of my life?
Nothing came to mind.
Was this how other people felt? I doubted everyone was satisfied with their job.
I was sure there were grocery store clerks and gas station attendants who hated going to work every day. A part of me hoped I wasn’t alone in my lack of enthusiasm. How bad was it that I hoped people hated their jobs?
Bad.
I didn’t have to work. In last names, I’d gotten lucky. But as I looked down at Roman, I knew for every person who hated their job, there was someone who loved it. Like Dad or Aubrey or Logan or Thea or Willa.
“I hope Roman is always this excited about whatever job he has.”
Willa gave me a sidelong look. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah!” I said, too loud and with too much excitement. “Yeah. I just mean, it’s nice he has a passion at such a young age.”
I’d never had that.
“How are things at the camp?” I asked, wanting a change of subject.
“Great! We’re all shut down for the winter so I’m just working for Logan until the baby is born. But I’m already excited for the summer season to start.”
Willa ran a children’s camp in town. Besides her own children, it was her pride and joy.
It was her passion.
Everyone in this room seemed to have one except me. Even Ryder, who was still in high school, had his sights set on a college football scholarship.
“Hungry.” Roman tugged on Willa’s coat.
Tinsel Page 12
