Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

N A T
W
e talk for a while, then Kage decides it’s time to
feed me.
He tugs on his jeans and disappears into the kitchen,
ordering me to stay in bed. I lie naked, staring at the ceiling
with a goofy smile on my face, listening to him rummage
around in my fridge and cupboards. I hear the clatter of pots
and pans on the stovetop, then soon after, the mouthwatering
scent of bacon frying fills the air.
A while later, he returns holding a plate. Barefoot, bare
chested, and breathtakingly handsome.
“Breakfast for dinner,” he announces, standing at the edge
of the bed. “Sit up.”
I don’t obey him. Instead, I say, “Bossy.”
He arches a brow. “Sit up, or I’ll turn your ass red.”
My smile grows wider. I gaze up at him, grinning like a
maniac. “Doubling down. I like it. But don’t forget, I haven’t
given you permission for that.”
“Yet.” He gestures with the plate. “Now sit up like a good
girl so I can feed you.”
“You seem unnecessarily concerned with my caloric
intake. What’s up with that?”
It’s his turn to smile. It comes on slow and heated. He says
in a husky voice, “You’re gonna need your energy. The night’s
still young.”