I smiled to myself—thinking of how facing Seth the Dom in the playroom hadn’t been nearly as intimidating as facing Seth the Lover in the kitchen. Correction—he couldn’t even be classified as a lover. He certainly wouldn’t put himself into that category, so I didn’t need to, either.
When I finally reached the kitchen, the scene in front of me was…breathtaking. Seth was over by the stove, scrambling eggs, frying bacon, and working on building a stack of pancakes. The fact that he cooked brought another smile to my face. It would be fun to tease him about it. The fact that he was wearing nothing more than a pair of loose fitting, low-hanging sweat pants that framed his perfect ass, caused my smile to vanish. I shouldn’t notice his ass and I definitely shouldn’t want to touch it.
With his back still turned to me, he said, “The curtains are open. If that’s not going to work, go over and close them. Just act like the sun’s too bright or something like that. I’m good either way. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with this morning.”
“Nah, I’m good with ‘em open,” I answered in a shaky voice. I hoped I could handle it. “I guess it’s best to keep them interested, yeah?”
“My thoughts exactly,” he answered.
His voice wasn’t shaky, it was…chipper. Bastard.
“Grab a seat. I’ve got this,” he ordered.
Seth had already set the table, so I plopped down in one of the seats with a place setting in front of it. I could do this, regardless of how awkward it was or how much of a lying hypocrite it made me feel like. With a surge of determination, I renewed my plan to pretend like last night had meant absolutely nothing more than both of us getting our rocks off.
He sat two platters down on the table, and turned to grab the plate holding the stack of fluffy pancakes. “I hope you like bacon, eggs, and pancakes.”
I looked at the food, it smelled delicious, but I normally had a bowl of cereal or a strawberry toasted pastry for breakfast. Not being much of a cook and disliking most fast food places, I’d kinda cornered myself into the cereal category. I knew Landon’s shoppers had gotten me my Fruity Pebbles and there were several boxes of strawberry yummy tucked away in the cabinet, just calling my name.
“Wow. This is a lot of food,” I said. “I, uh, usually just grab a boxed treat.” I really wanted that pastry. Not only did the fruity sugars cause a happy dance on my tongue, I didn’t need to allow myself to get into the habit of having somebody there for me, offering to cook a delicious smelling breakfast. My stomach growled. Apparently, my entire body was on Team Seth, betraying Team Baker at every corner.
When he arched a brow at me, I said, “I’ll just grab that box of toasted pastries.” I stood, ready to head toward the cabinet.
“Sit,” he ordered, and my ass hit the seat with a thud.
Traitor column: cock, balls, stomach, and ass.
Those are my most favorite things about me—they bring me the most pleasure.
“Pop tarts and cereal aren’t exactly healthy, Baker. Especially not day after day. Does your Mistress not get upset with daily abuse of your body?”
I snorted out a laugh but quickly stifled it when I realized he wasn’t smiling. I guess the whole irony of him or my Mistress worrying about the abuse of my body was totally missed by him—flew straight over his head without slowing down. Lowering my head, I answered, “She hasn’t asked about my eating habits, Sir.”
“Mmmhmm,” he answered thoughtfully. “Better yet, Baker, go into the living room, grab a pillow off the sofa and bring it into the kitchen.”
With those words, he dismissed me and started fixing his plate. There went my toasted pastry, flying over the edge of the balcony just like my dignity had soared last night. I had a feeling I was about to be put into a time-out for my eating habits…which I thought were just fine and dandy. My stomach growled loudly when I bent over to pick up the cushion and I mumbled, “Yeah, it serves you right, you fucking traitor. Let’s see how much you like Seth after this morning.” In response, it rumbled again.
“Your cushion, Sir,” I said after I’d baby-stepped it back into the kitchen area.
“No, your cushion,” he answered with a smile. He’d already devoured nearly half the bacon and eggs. “Put it on the floor next to my seat.”
Ohhhhh, maybe my punishment wouldn’t be so horrific after all. A small part of me hoped he was about to force me into an educational class commonly referred to as Cocksucking 101. Fuck…could I even do that? Yes, I was interested. Was I ready? Doubtful.
I placed the pillow next to his seat and waited.