Playing With Desire. Reese Ryan

She placed her clutch on the counter and climbed onto the stool.

      “Coming right up.” He grabbed the milk from the fridge and poured it into the frothing pitcher.

      “Thank you for the toothbrush. Lucky thing you had an extra one, huh?” Her teasing tone countered her statement.

      “Indeed.” He pursed his lips, trying not to smile. So maybe he did purchase toothbrushes and condoms in bulk. One never knew when an opportunity for an unexpected frolic might arise. Better to be prepared, and he was. Always.

      Breakfast fare, on the other hand, he kept in short supply. Make an overnight visitor breakfast, and you might as well offer her an invitation to move in. Sharing a morning meal at his place after a night in the sack with a virtual stranger was against his unwritten policy. Instead, he supplied a strong cup of coffee. One that made her sober enough to want to head home. Of course, if a woman was at his apartment the next morning, she’d usually shared his bed the night before. So he found himself in unfamiliar territory.

      He needed a reason for her to stay.

      “I kept it. The toothbrush.” She patted her purse. “It was better than the one I have at home, and it’s not like you’re going to give it to someone else.”

      “Well, if you approve of my taste in dental sundries, you’re going to love my selection of caffeinated beverages.” He whisked in the chocolate powder, added the milk and finally, the froth. Then he created a swirly leaf pattern before setting the cup on a saucer in front of her. “Try this.”

      She picked up the steaming cup and blew across the top of it. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the little O her mouth formed. She made the most innocent gestures erotic. His body tensed.

      “Mmm...” She pulled the cup from her lips, her eyes closed. He shuddered a little. “This is good. I’m impressed.”

      Oh, I haven’t even begun to impress you.

      “Excellent.” He turned back to the machine and made a café Americano for himself.

      They sat at the breakfast bar drinking their coffee. Liam cleared his throat and shifted on the bar stool. “What do you think of breakfast?”

      “Is that an invitation, or are you asking my opinion on the benefits of breakfast in general?” She took another sip of her mocha latte.

      He laughed. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

      “No,” she said. “I don’t think I am.”

      * * *

      “It’s an invitation,” he said. “I was just about to order breakfast. Brunch, actually. You’re welcome to... I mean, I’d like it very much if you’d stay.”

      She bit her lip, her heart beating faster as she searched his eyes. They enjoyed each other’s company last night. After she turned him down, he’d shown her his jazz collection. He was a purist who collected the classics on vinyl like her dad. She’d thumbed through the album covers that were so familiar to her. Miles Davis. Charlie Parker. Dave Brubeck. John Coltrane. Ella Fitzgerald. They listened to some of their favorites on his high-tech wireless record player while sharing fruit, cheese and an unbelievably good bottle of wine. Even then, she’d been reluctant to finally say good-night. Still, maybe it was better for both of them if she didn’t stay.

      “C’mon. You won’t regret it.” The man was charming and slightly irresistible. Besides, what did she have to do that was more important? Without the girls, her weekend plans consisted of doing laundry, some neglected dusting and cooking a meal for one.

      She took another sip of her mocha latte and raised her eyes to his.

      “Brunch would be nice.”