Page 6 of Biker Daddies' Vows
“Yeah, you can. Just tell Matt and he’ll sermon the hell out of me.”
The smile turned into a grin as her brows rose.
“He still sermons?”
“Sometimes. When he thinks the occasion calls for it.”
She nodded earnestly. “He used to sermon me when I got in trouble as a kid.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Oh, you know. Teenage stuff. I went out with the school’s rock star and almost crashed my dad’s car once. My parents were out of town, so it was Matthew who gave me a good, proper scolding for being irresponsible. But mostly he was mad that I was making out with a punk, as he liked to call my ex.”
An image of a younger, more innocent Sophie with a rebellious streak had me grinning, particularly because I could see how my stern friend would have dealt with it. Matthew scolded, yes, but he also took care and protected. Then an image of her getting hot and heavy with some punk replaced it and had me shaking my head to promptly erase it.No.Not going there.
“Oh, my God. This is so good. Insanely good.”
She said it softly and with her eyes closed, but with a hint of a moan that went straight to my groin. Heat followed. My brain knew she was talking about the food, but my cock was coming up with all kinds of fantasies involving positions that would get her to sound exactly like that. I was so turned on that it made my vision hazy, and I gripped my fork at the intensity and suddenness of it.
“You’re a really good cook,” she kept on, oblivious to my reaction. I made sure she remained that way as I schooled my expression. She wasn’t a teenager now, that was obvious, but it still wasn’t right.
And she was Matthew’s guest, not mine.
“It’s just eggs,” I managed to say through the thick lump in my throat.
“Tell that to a twenty-three-year-old who still can’t cook to save her life,” she shot back, then grinned widely in appreciation. Her blue-green eyes softened. “Thank you. I needed this tonight.”
So what if she was legal? She probably saw me as she saw Matthew—an uncle figure to trust. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be in this kitchen sharing a meal with me so comfortably. I hated that my mind was going wild, but I was drawn to her and there was no fighting that.
But I could fight the attraction I felt.
“The good food or the company?” I asked lightly.
Humor lit her features.
“Both, though I shouldn’t impose on your company for much longer. It’s late. You must be tired.”
“Actually, I’m not. And before you offer to do the dishes, I’ll take care of them.”
“But—”
“No buts. I like doing the dishes and you would cause me so much pain and heartache if you took that privilege away from me.”
She giggled, an open sound filled with joy. I itched to make her laugh some more, but that itch was bound to get away from me and I couldn’t have that—not at two in the morning and with her wearingthat.
“If you say so.”
“Yes, I say so,” I said firmly. “Now, go. Shoo. Get some sleep. I’ll get some after this.”
The words sounded dirty in my ears, but she didn’t seem to see it that way as she gave me a friendly wave.
“Fine. I won’t take the washing privilege away from you.”
“Goodnight, Sophie Grace.”
She smiled. “Goodnight, Sebastian.”
My name in her mouth sounded like music to my ears. I tried not to look at her butt when she walked away, desperately relieved when she finally disappeared into the spare bedroom. Ruefully, I adjusted the erection in my pants, doubtful that it would go away anytime soon.