He wraps my hair up in his hand and nuzzles the side of my neck. I smile and close my eyes as he nibbles his way across my collarbone. Slipping his hands under the thin strap of my shirt, he slides it halfway down my arm and follows the strap with his tongue.

A delicious way to start the day.

I turn around in the chair and pull his head closer.

“Good morning to you too, stranger,” I say before reaching up to kiss him slowly on the lips. “Maybe I should leave my door unlocked if hot men like you are going to come wandering into my kitchen looking for a cup of coffee.”

“Don’t you dare,” he says. “Not unless you want me to beat somebody’s ass. I don’t share.”

“Jealous?” I say.

“Insanely jealous. The thought of another man’s hands on you makes me crazy.”

I arch my eyebrows at him.

“And how do you think I feel knowing the Sweet Butts at your clubhouse are crawling all over you? Don’t think for a minute that I’m too stupid to know what goes on there.”

“If you want to be my girl, all you have to do is say so.”

“Your girl?” I say with an indignant look. “I’m not sixteen.”

He slides his hands down and cups my breasts, rubbing the nipples through the shirt with his thumbs.

“Want to be my girl?”

Yes.

“I don’t want to be anyone’s property,” I say. “That’s not my thing. I belong to no man.”

“Okay then,” he says. “Just remember that I offered and you turned me down. In case you change your mind, I’ll keep asking you. I’m persistent and don’t give up easily.”

“Yeah, I know. What time do you need to be at work?”

“Same time as always. I have a long tattoo job this morning.”

“Sit down and I’ll pour you a cup of coffee. The biscuits are almost done and it will only take me a minute to cook the sausage gravy.”

The expression on his face was worth getting up early for.

He’s surprised and pleased.

“Let me get this straight,” he says. “You crawled out of a warm bed to cook breakfast for me? I distinctively remember you saying that you were never going to do that. As in never ever. You stood right here in this kitchen and said ‘Sam, if you think I’m going to get up and cook you breakfast...’”

He wags his finger at me and mimics my voice, causing me to laugh.

“Yeah, I know what I said.” I shrug. “Never was probably a bad choice for a word.” I reach up and run my fingers through his mussed-up hair. “I can’t send you off to work without breakfast.”

“I’m beginning to wonder what other skills you have that I don’t know about,” he says, suddenly serious.