He was about to ask as much when she moved toward him, her pace full of purpose. She grabbed his face and kissed him.
And it wasn’t just a peck on the lips. No, this woman knew how to kiss. She knew how to throw her whole body into it. A low and pleasant hum warmed him from the center outward.
Her soft, slippery little tongue pushed its way into his mouth. Then she started to suck. She started to fucking suck on his tongue. He moaned as his cock stirred beneath the towel, his hands moving to wrap around her back.
This had been so unexpected, and yet he couldn’t get over how much he suddenly wanted it—wanted her.
A shrill beeping sound from downstairs made them both still. She was the first to pull away.
Her light brown eyes were glassy, and her cheeks held an adorable pink flush. He dropped his gaze to her plump, wet lips and he swept his thumb over the bottom one back and forth. He stilled when she pressed the tip of her tongue to his thumb, then parted her lips and lunged at it with her teeth, nipping the pad.
He tugged it away, grinning.
Oh, she was a wicked little thing.
Grabbing her around the back of the neck, he crushed his mouth to hers, taking control of the kiss this time, forcing her lips to part for his, to mold to his. She gave over all the power and melted against him, her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down to her. He was about to push the hem of her shirt up to explore her lack of a bra when the loud beeping of the oven timer downstairs had them pulling a part once again.
Her ample chest rose and fell rapidly, his did too.
“Hold that thought,” he murmured, grabbing hold of his towel and heading downstairs toward the kitchen. “Be right back.” Then he took off as fast as his legs could carry him, hoping that his chicken wasn’t burning, but even more so that the woman in his bedroom would still be there when he returned.