It’s only then that I take in the fact that Chase is standing there in a coat—my coat—with a pair of heels on.

“Oh.” It’s all I manage to say as she steps back and shimmies the coat off her shoulders, proceeding to drop it to the ground.

But I’m not looking at where it falls.

Nope. My eyes are fixated on her and how she’s standing before me in heels, a red and white gingham apron, and the biggest, sexiest smile I’ve ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of.

“Now that’s a welcome home if I’ve ever gotten one.”

“You like?” she asks and does a curtsy. Her breasts jiggle out the sides of the ruffled section, which partially covers her chest and ties around her neck.

“I like all right.”

She does a little twirl, the tied bow resting above her bare ass, and my mouth waters and fingers itch to touch her.

“I made you an apple pie,” she says over her shoulder as she turns and heads toward the kitchen. “It’s ooey and gooey and warm and waiting for you to blissfully sink right into it.”

I stand there and watch. Take in the view of her hips swaying and ass moving, and I groan.

But hell, if she wants to tempt and tease and play coy, then I’m definitely game.

“An apple pie? I didn’t know you baked,” I say as I follow behind her, my eyes glued to every goddamn curve of hers.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Oh, I have a hell of a lot to say but right now I’m just enjoying the view.”

“Does this give you a better one?” she asks and then proceeds to pull the oven door open and bend over to take the pie out.

Holy fucking shit.

And it’s only seconds—but it’s too damn long between the time she shuts the oven, puts the pie on top of the stove—and I have her whirled around with my mouth on hers.

She still has the oven mitts on, but I don’t care.

All I can think about is her.

Right now.

“No regrets,” I say between kisses as I lift her up and sit her ass on the island. She yelps from the chill of the granite, all while heating up every part of me.

Our kisses are hot and hungry and laced with desperation. The kind that feels like it is going to eat you alive if you don’t have more. Take more. Give more.

We’re both frenzied. Her hands pulling my shirt over my head while mine are on her ass pulling her to the edge of the counter. My fingers pushing my shorts down, as hers thread through my hair at the back of my neck.