Tiffani lay back, her legs over his shoulders, and bit down on the back of her hand to try to keep herself from getting too loud as her perfect match’s perfect mouth made her unravel completely.

Chapter Seventeen: Martin

Shifters had superhuman stamina. Pegasi, Martin could brag, had even more than most: the strength and determination that it took to keep a fully-grown horse up in the air was no joke.

So he understood why he continued to function after two days of avid, enthusiastic sex, lots of stress, and very little sleep.

He had no idea what Tiffani’s secret was.

“Coffee,” she replied.

The toaster chimed and she pulled the frozen waffles out of it and dumped them on a plate.

She continued, “Coffee to wake me up, ice water and a cold shower to shock the system, and sugar to make life bearable. Witness the truly appalling amount of maple syrup I’m going to put on these.”

“I could have made you waffles.”

“Only if I’d had the ingredients for batter around here, which I unfortunately don’t.” She leaned across the kitchen bar and kissed the top of his head.

After last night’s upheavals and intimacy, Martin had tried to guard his heart against the strong possibility that another night sleeping in his arms might bring Tiffani some panicky second thoughts.

After all, she had originally wanted them to take their time. He already felt like he’d known her forever, but if he forced himself to be technical, not that many hours had passed.

But now a kind of surety radiated from Tiffani’s every move. And that kiss had a coziness and familiarity that he loved just as much as all their whirlwind passion.

“I can make you breakfast, though,” she said, interrupting his reverie. “You’re not the only one who can be romantic, you know.”

“I never thought that,” he protested. “I just wanted to court you.”

“Consider me officially courted. Now I want to dazzle you.”

She had done that from the start.

“I’ll just have to find a way to dazzle you with the very limited supplies in my kitchen and my very limited cooking talents. Let’s see—I pour a mean bowl of cereal and I can stick frozen waffles in a toaster like nobody’s business. As you saw. I’m also very good at handing people bananas.”

“A triple-threat.”

“In fact, if so moved, I’ve even been known to summon the skills necessary to slice one of those bananas into a bowl of cereal.”

“That sounds incredible.”

She took a bowl of cereal down from the cupboard. “Please hold your applause until the end.”

Maybe it was just being in love, but he thought that the crunch of the cereal and the soft sweetness of the banana really did come together into something special. It made him feel like he was in a commercial for a balanced breakfast.

A very romantic balanced breakfast.

Tiffani sat down next to him and cut into her waffles. “So did you decide what to do about McMillan? I seem to recall distracting you.”

“There was nothing I’d rather think about.”

He kissed her, his lips still cold from the milk in the cereal against hers still hot from the heated syrup. Everything tasted sugary and perfect.

“Besides,” he went on, “I don’t know that any amount of thinking would have gotten me anywhere. We don’t have anything solid. There’s just that niggling little suspicion that something isn’t quite right.”

“I doubt he’ll be willing to listen to that,” Tiffani said with regret. “Not when he’s so eager to keep this all moving forward.”

She speared another bite of waffle with her fork but stopped with it only halfway to her mouth.


Tags: Zoe Chant U.S. Marshal Shifters Paranormal