Bad Romeo Christmas: A Starcrossed Anthology (Starcrossed #4)(2)

She kisses my chest. "Stop it. You know how much snarky, * Ethan turns me on. Now, eat, before we both forget all about dinner."

Yes, wouldn't that be tragic?

She pushes me down into my chair and perches on the edge of the table. Then she gives me a generous glimpse of her cleavage as she loads up my fork and brings it toward my mouth.

In my head, the theme from Jaws starts up.

As the Forkful from the Black Lagoon approaches, I clench my jaw and beg my stomach to behave itself. I want to marry this woman, and if I projectile-vomit on her, she may never talk to me again.

When the fork reaches my mouth, I call on every goddamn ounce of acting experience I've ever had and force myself to smile as I wrap my lips around its heinous payload.

Oh. Fuck me. It's like pure, undiluted evil. I blink and try not to let my disgust show.

"So good," I mutter around the toxic waste. "Really. I can't believe you cooked this." Bred it from genetic waste matter? Yes. Cooked it? No.

Cassie leans over and kisses my neck. "I'm so glad you like it." She trails one hand down to my crotch and strokes what she finds there. "Hmmm. You're really enjoying it, aren't you? Wow. Giant food boner."

Wrong. Cassie-sitting-in-front-of-me-dressed-in-lingerie-and-an-apron boner. I could be eating rocks right now and still be hard as a ... well ... you know.

She looks down at my crotch and sighs. "As much as I want to play, I have to finish making dessert. You keep eating. I'll be done in five minutes."

She gives me a quick kiss and disappears into the kitchen. I look around, frantically searching for some way to dispose of what's on my plate without breaking her heart. For a start, I spit out what's left in my mouth. It distresses me that it looks better going out than going in.

I glance around and assess my options:

1) Throw it off the balcony. Hmmm ... tempting but risky. If it hits anyone I could be arrested for engaging in chemical warfare.

2) Bury it in the potted plant near the door. Nope. She'd smell it. Hell, people in the apartment next door would smell it. Also, I really like that plant and don't want it to die.

3) Shove it down the garbage disposal. Never going to work. Even if I walk into the kitchen naked and sporting the world's largest hard on, she's still going to notice the full plate of her food being dumped into the sink.

4) "Nuke it from space. It's the only way to be sure." Not an option, but I just like using that quote from Aliens as often as possible.

"How're you doing?" she calls from the kitchen. "Dessert will be ready in two minutes. Almost done?"

"Yep," I say. "All gone. I was trying to savor every bite, but my mouth had other ideas. Just need to pee. then I'll come help you, okay?"

"Sure!"

I grab the plate and stride into the bathroom before quickly shutting the door. With a final shudder of disgust, I scrape the food into the bowl and hesitate before flushing. "Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael, Donatello ... if you boys are down there, I apologize for what I'm about to do. Forgive me." I press the lever and hope like hell the nearest sewage treatment plant is equipped to handle what's headed its way.

I quickly wash my hands, and then act nonchalant as I take the empty plate back into the kitchen.

"All done. Didn't even touch the sides."

Cassie gives me a dazzling smile. It seems out of place in the disaster area that used to be my kitchen. There are bits of mangled food, vegetable peelings, and globs of flour on nearly every surface. In the midst of everything, Cassie is blithely stirring something in a saucepan on the stove. The slight haze of smoke that lingers in the air doesn't seem to bother her. As a precaution, I flick on the overhead fan.

She watches me with appraising eyes as I rinse my plate and stack it in the dishwasher. When I straighten up and glance at her, she gives a frustrated sigh.

"What?" I ask.

Another sigh. "Just you. Half-naked."

"That annoys you?"

"Yes."

"Because?"

"I'm trying to concentrate. Your muscles are distracting."

I strike a pose and flex. "What? These old things?"

Her eyes glaze over as she gazes at my biceps. I've been working on them recently. They're kind of huge.

With another grunt, Cassie turns back to her saucepan. "Stop it. I have no time to grope you right now."

I stand next to her and take her hand before pressing her palm against my abs. Her eyelids flutter. "Sure, you do."

She inhales sharply and stares into my eyes as her fingers gently trace the ridges on my stomach. I used to work out because it helped alleviate my anxiety and pent-up aggression. These days, I do it to be healthy. Oh, and to see my woman look at me like she wants to f*ck me until I can't stand. That's exactly how she's looking at me now.

She pulls her hand back and frowns. "You realize that you turn me on so much, it hurts, right? I'm talking actual, physical pain, Ethan."

"Good," I say and adjust my erection where it's pulsing uncomfortably against my fly. "That makes us even."

She gives my chest, abs, and shoulders one more look before shaking her head and turning back to the stove. "You're killing me, here. Good thing this is almost done. Ready for more?"