Green Tea Latte To Go by Ellis Aven

Author:Ellis, Aven [Ellis, Aven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: RJM Publishing
Published: 2016-09-13T07:00:00+00:00

***

Breakfast has never been sexier.

I’m supposed to be watching the pancakes, but while I wait for them to bubble, I steal another glimpse of Brooks while he slices some bananas at a cutting board.

Cutting.

Cut.

Just like his body.

Which I have a glorious view of right now because he’s wearing nothing but sweatpants.

Brooks is beyond what I envisioned he’d look like with his shirt off. His naturally golden skin is simply beautiful, with no tattoos in sight. My eyes flicker across his shoulders, powerful and muscular from lifting weights. His chest is very broad to match his tall frame, with sculpted pecs that I had the pleasure of touching last night.

I continue to drink him in, from the way his developed biceps are so strong, to the sexy veins running through his arms, to the washboard abs that taper right into that super hot V-shape where his navy sweatpants are hanging wonderfully lo—

“Is something burning?”

I blink. “Huh?”

“You might want to shift your attention from me to pancakes,” Brooks says, his eyes sparkling at me as he points his knife toward the pan I’m standing over.

Pancakes.

Shit.

I look down and they are completely bubbled over the top. I flip one over and am greeted with a black, burnt pancake.

“Ugh, I’ve burned them,” I cry, quickly removing the ruined pancakes to a plate that is sitting on the countertop next to me.

“You promised me you were an expert pancake maker,” Brooks says, facing me with a huge grin on his face.

“But I am,” I declare, heading over to the trash and dumping the blackened pancakes. “I have mastered the art of when to flip them to get the perfect golden color on each side.”

“Yes, I can see that. Very golden. Or is black the new very golden?”

“Oh, shut up,” I say, laughing.

“To be fair, you aren’t used to being distracted by an impossibly sexy British man in the kitchen.”

I feel my breath catch in my throat. No, I think as I study him, I’m not.

Brooks puts down the knife and makes his way toward me, and my pulse leaps in anticipation. He steps in front of me, sliding his hands around my waist, and happiness fills me from feeling his touch.

“Yet I’ve somehow managed to slice bananas while knowing you’re in the same room, wearing my shirt and looking so beautiful in the morning,” he says softly, gazing down at me. “And it’s quite distracting to see your sexy legs in full view mere feet away from me.”

Beautiful. Sexy.

Words only Brooks has used to describe me.

“You really think I make this Henley shirt sexy?” I ask aloud, as I slept in one of his gray Henley shirts last night.

Brooks moves his hands up to my face, holding it gently. “You have no idea what it did to me to see you in my shirt, do you?”

I lift my hands to his chest, heat surging through me the second I feel his warm skin under my palm.

“You’re so beautiful, and I don’t think you have any idea that you are,” Brooks says, caressing my face in his hands.

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