The unmistakable aroma of bacon hit her nostrils first. Then the distinct smell of eggs and Texas toast painted the full picture of what Chef Jake was cooking.
Eyes still closed, she took a slow deep breath. Simultaneously, she stretched her legs, tensing her tush and pointing her toes. Her arms crossed over her head until her palms were each cradling the opposite elbow as she stretched.
Everything relaxed as she exhaled and cautiously opened her eyes. Fortunately, Jake had opened the curtains but left the diffusers closed, so the morning sun illuminated the room without searing her pupils.
She was hard pressed to leave the warmth of their bed, but the meal Jake was cooking smelled absolutely amazing. And it wasn't often that he cooked for her. Mainly because she loved cooking for him. Helping her in the kitchen over the years, he'd picked up a few things. However, he was no slouch when they first met, and breakfast had always been his specialty.
Finally bringing herself to sit up, she saw her short kimono laying at the foot of the bed. A gift from Jake that he picked up on his first deployment to Iwakuni since they'd been together. A soft smile graced her lips as she slipped out of bed and cloaked her naked form. Tying it, she drifted downstairs.
Nearing the kitchen, she could hear the muted sizzle of bacon in the oven, and Jake singing Johnny Cash to himself. He was standing at the stove with his back to her. For a minute, she leaned on the door jamb, arms crossed over her chest, watching Jake as he concentrated to make sure each slice of French toast was evenly browned.
Always one to live life on the edge, he was cooking shirtless. Gray sweatpants slung low. She soaked in every dimple, muscle ripple and scar on his back.
Still unnoticed, she headed in his direction, making just enough noise he knew she was coming. "Good morning," he said as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her lips to his shoulder blade. Eventually, she slipped under his arm as he continued to monitor the toast.
She replied, her voice still gravelly with sleep. Jake's smile widened as he leaned down to kiss her. "Your morning voice gets me hard."
It was her turn to smile as she let her fingers skim the waistband of his sweats and follow the hollow of his Adonis belt. Her lips grazed his pec. "Can't believe you're serving bacon instead of sausage." Her fingers confirmed he wasn't wearing any underwear.
Jake shook his head slightly as she looked at him through her lashes, cheek pressed to his chest. "Sausage is reserved for breakfast in bed." She scrunched her nose at him. "Maybe you can have some later." Indirectly adjusting himself, Jake shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Mulling over his offer, she kissed his pec before slipping out of his grasp.
He had a fleeting thought to abandon the French toast. However, it was so close to perfection, it'd be a shame to ruin it.
Steps ahead of her, Jake already had two places set on the the kitchen island. Looking to contribute something, she poured cranberry mimosas—one of Jake's favorites, which he would never admit in public.
She and Jake met at their seats. Jake with heaping plates in hand and her with drinks. After setting down the food, he helped her into her chair. His hand lingered on her bare thigh and he closed the distance between their lips. He tasted like maple syrup.
Before things got too heated, Jake slipped into the chair beside her. He adjusted their chairs so she was tucked between his legs, facing him. Their plates sat cozily close on the counter as they ate.
Jake had finished his last piece of bacon, and before he could do anything, she grabbed his wrist. He watched as she brought his hand to her lips. She kept eye contact with him as she licked the bacon grease off his fingers. He shuttered when the full lengths of his index and middle fingers disappeared into her mouth and reappeared with a pop.
