Pancakes: Not Needed

Fingers tapped the top of a table. Soft taps were heard as one by one they rose and fell on the glossy surface in a wave motion. Blue eyes focused on the one object that rested on the surface, scrutinizing and studying it. Suddenly the fingers stopped their motion and sound. Elbows found their way to the wooden surface as a large and heavy sigh escaped the lips of the person that they belonged to. A long and deep breath was slowly inhaled through a pert nose as the blue eyes slowly closed, a groan almost escaping from the set of lips belonging to the owner of the blue eyes, the lower one more full than the upper.

A loud thunk reverberated through the room as the blue eyed woman allowed her head to hit the surface of the table. Groan finally escaping, she curled her fingers into a fist and all but beat them on her thighs. “Why can’t I do this?”

“Do what, Rylie?”

Whipping her head up at the sound of the raspy voice behind her, Rylie turned around. “Make up one simple recipe.”

“What’s the special ingredient?”

She wondered how her normally bright fiancé could be so dense as she watched his hazel-green eyes flick from the look of frustration on her face to the table in front of her where the loan object rested, as if it was mocking her. Not saying anything, she narrowed her eyes as she studied the look on his strong face. Knowing that it usually meant something was up when his gaze continued to rest on the object, she opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted.

“Syrup?”

“Yeah, syrup.” Nodding, she flicked her gaze towards the bottle that rested at the center of the table.

Cocking his head slightly, the man continued to stare at the table, brows now furrowed. Reaching up and scratching his colorful arm with the opposite hand, he then grinned. “Breakfast food.”

Rolling her eyes, the woman stood up and patted his cheek. “Yeah, Matt, I pretty much figured that one out already.”

“You could make desserts with it, too.” Pouting slightly, Matt bent and touched his lips to hers. “You always come up with something, so why can’t you?”

Letting out another breath, this one contentment as Matt’s arms surrounded her Rylie continued to stare at the syrup bottle that she secretly thought of as being evil. “I don’t know.”

Dropping a kiss on the top of her head, Matt chuckled. “It’s not evil; quit glaring at it like it is.”

“It’s an evil entity. I need inspiration!”

“I told you—breakfast. Keep it simple.” Kissing her again, Matt let go of her hands and strolled to the fridge. “What do you have in here to start it with?”

“Everything I need if I end up thinking of something.” Grumbling under her breath, Rylie reached across the table and grabbed the offending bottle. Placing it on the center counter work island that dominated their professional kitchen, she then turned around and watched as Matt rumbled around in the fridge. “What are you doing?”

“Eggs. You need eggs.” Shutting the heavy stainless steel door, Matt turned around cradling the egg carton in one of his large hands. “Mom used to make me some baked thing for breakfast. She let me crack the eggs. I don’t know if it had syrup in it or not.”

“So basically all you remember is eggs being in the dish?” Tilting her head slightly, Rylie laughed when Matt looked sheepish. “I can see you have a long memory.”

“I was seven the last time I was bothered to help.” Shrugging his shoulders, Matt sat the eggs beside the syrup bottle. “If nothing else you can make me pancakes for breakfast seeing as I haven’t eaten yet and we can still think of something.”

“It’s noon.”

“So?” Shrugging his broad shoulders, Matt grinned. “I just woke up not too long ago. The first meal of the day is always breakfast even if the sun is going down.”

Shaking her head, Rylie then laughed. “I think the only reason that you and the rest of the guys like me is because I come up with recipes for magazines and cookbooks and you all get fed all of the time.”

“They may like you, but I love you for that.” Stepping out of the way when her hand playfully went towards his shoulder, Matt avoided the light shove Rylie had been planning to deliver. “There are other reasons too, but a man has to eat, you know.”

“Would you call your mom and get that recipe? I can probably devise something similar off it.”

“Will I get pancakes?”

“Can’t eat what I’m going to make?”

“What if it’s one of those stick-in-the-fridge-overnight deals that you’ve made before?”

“Call her and I’ll do what you want.”

“Now that has its possibilities.” Wiggling his eyebrows, Matt grabbed the phone off the cradle from the wall and dialed as Rylie groaned. “You knew that was coming.”

“That I did, that I did.” Shaking her head at her own expense, Rylie watched as Matt absently rubbed his bare stomach, navy blue shorts hanging low on his hips. Handing him a pen and piece of paper when he started drawing in the air and staring at her, Rylie watched as his familiar handwriting started to fill the page. Taking the slip when he was done, she listened with half an ear to the conversation he was having, mind racing out how she could add syrup to the dish.

“Mom’s screaming for a visit and she’s ecstatic that the esteemed Rylie soon-to-be Sanders is modifying a dish that she and her mother came up with.” Shoving the phone back into the cradle, Matt looked over his shoulder as he spoke. “Ry?”

“Hmm?” Scribbling on a fresh sheet of paper, Rylie looked up absentmindedly and then back down. “I think if I take away the sugar I can add the syrup in instead and give it a more rich taste and I’m going to up the milk to two cups instead of just one and a half.”

Watching his fiancée as she worked, Matt jumped when he heard her voice again. “No, I need a sandwich later.”

“I’ll buy you more bread, in fact, for calling your mother for this, I’ll make you bread.” Grabbing the single loaf out of the bread box on the counter behind her, Rylie spun around. “I could kiss you for this.”

“Since you’re in a tizzy over that, later.” Grinning, Matt looked around. “Well, let me know when the pancakes are done.”

“Oh, no!” Reaching out, Rylie grabbed his arm before he could fully leave the kitchen. “You can break the eggs again since you’re a pro at it.”

“All twelve?”

Nodding, Rylie grabbed a cutting board. “The whole dozen.”

“But the pancakes…”

“Will be made after I get this done, I promise, I’ll go and get more. Not to mention, I won’t tell the guys that you helped.”

Letting out a breath at her promises, Matt took the bowl that she passed him. “Do I get mentioned as inspiration for this dish in your book?”

“You betcha.” Reaching up, Rylie scooped back her dark brown hair and captured it in a rubber band haphazardly. Washing her hands she then returned to the center island. Dropping a kiss on Matt’s cheek as she passed him, she took up residence across from him.

Quickly cutting the dozen slices of bread that she needed into cubes, she dumped them into another bowl that she had ready and grabbed a package of cream cheese from the fridge. Cubing it also, she mixed the two together as Matt measured the milk that was mixed with the eggs. Thanking him for the baking dish that he greased while she was tossing the bread and cream cheese together, she then dumped the mixture into the pan.

Staring at the syrup bottle, she contemplated how much to add to the milk and eggs that Matt had prepared. Grabbing it, she twisted off the top and then surveyed the measuring cups that were before her. Deciding a third of a cup would be enough, she looked up before pouring. “What?”

Eyes darkening, Matt stared back at Rylie and slowly waved his hand. “Nothing, continue.”

“Not with you staring at me like that.” Shivering, Rylie placed the bottle on the counter after measuring the syrup into the measuring cup. “Stop it.”

“What if I don’t?”

“You don’t get pancakes.”

“What if I don’t want them?”

“You’re infuriating.”

“I want you instead.”

“I’m not a pancake.”

Reaching across the counter space, Matt scooped up the syrup bottle. Sticking his index finger inside the bottle he then stared at it as syrup slowly drizzled off the tip of his finger. “The syrup is my favorite part of having pancakes.”

“Then eat a teaspoon of syrup.” Shrugging her shoulders, Rylie took a step back. “We had better have another bottle considering you just stuck your finger in that one.”

“Why are you running away?” Smirk on his face, Matt walked around the island, backing Rylie up to the counter behind her as she retreated.

“I’m simply seeing if there’s another bottle.”

“Bull.” Sticking his syrup coated index finger on her cheek, Matt grinned. “That’s what you were afraid of.” Backing her up even further against the counter, he lowered his head. Flicking his tongue out, he slowly licked the smear off.

Shivering again, Rylie let her eyes shut. “I have to get that done.”

“It’ll wait.” Lifting the small bottle he still held, having replaced the cap, Matt squirted a small dot on Rylie’s shoulder that was bare due to the tank-top that she wore. Letting his tongue swirl over the smooth and creamy flesh, he felt her shudder against him. “I think you’re going to want to let it wait.”

“I think that would be best.” Taking the bottle out of his hands, Rylie looked up at him. Blue meeting hazel, she squeezed the bottle not caring where it went. Leaning forward, she slowly licked the sticky sweetness off of his colorful chest. Swirling her tongue around one of his nipples, she heard him draw in a breath, felt him come alive where his lower half was pressed against her.

Letting out a slight squeal when Matt’s hands grasped her hips and as his fingers slid around her backside, Rylie found herself on top of the island that had been behind her. Leaning back on her elbows when Matt reached behind him and grabbed the bottle she had discarded, she stared at him through hazy eyes.

Trailing his tongue across the upper part of her bare chest, Matt let his hands dance up her sides, the crimson fabric she wore catching on his thumbs, raising as his hands did. Lifting his head, he drew the top over her head and threw it over her shoulder where it rested on the table she had been sitting at before. Lowering his head again, he followed the trail of syrup down her chest to where it rested in the valley of her cleavage.

Feeling her fingernails sink into the flesh of his shoulders, he hissed slightly as he reached behind her to undo the lacy black bra that she wore. Flinging it to the side, he captured a rosy peak in his mouth as one of Rylie’s hands found it’s way into his short hair.

Tugging on the short, silky strands that she found under her fingers, Rylie concentrated on the feeling of Matt’s tongue as it swirled around her nipple, letting her legs fall apart more. Shivering yet again when Matt took advantage of the motion and moved closer to her, she slowly feel back on the surface of the counter and wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles.

Anchoring his hand in her hair after tugging out the band that she had placed in it, Matt slowly drew her up and fused his lips to hers. Wrapping his tongue around hers when she parted her lips, he pressed her against his chest, feeling the residual stickiness from the syrup on her chest make them stick together. Groaning when he dipped his hand between her legs and felt the tiny scrap of lace that she had covering her under the gray cotton shorts she had on, he kissed her lips lightly and pulled himself up.

“I’m going to make love to you here and now. You’ve done nothing but drive me nuts since I walked in here and saw that syrup bottle. Since then, I’ve thought of nothing but burying myself inside you.” Hooking his fingers on the waistband of her shorts, he pulled them down as she raised her hips slightly. Shoving his own shorts down, Matt took a deep breath as he looked up and saw her eyes meeting his.

“Wait! There’s food all up here.”

“I don’t give a shit.” Grasping her hips and sheathing himself inside of her, he waited a fraction of a heartbeat for her body to adjust. Using one hand, he pushed on her chest between her breasts making her lay flat before him on the island, hair splayed out around her. Swiping the bowl that held the milk and eggs to the side, he dipped his fingers into the measuring cup that held the syrup knocking it over in the process. Rubbing them across her chest, he dipped his head and caught the tip of her breast into his mouth, licking the substance off as he moved his hips in time with his tongue.

Arms flying above her head, fingers curling over the edge of the counter top, Rylie arched her back, a moan coming from her mouth as he sent her over the first peak. Lowering her arms, she nudged the bowl Matt had pushed earlier and sent it falling over the edge of the counter. Screaming his name as milk and eggs splattered on the floor and cabinets, she didn’t pay attention to the mess she had created, locking her legs around his waist once more.

Moving his hands off her hips, he reached down and grasped her ankles, forcing her legs apart as she had banded them so tightly around him so that he couldn’t move. Splaying her legs wider than before and pulling her towards him at the same time, he continued to move inside of her, watching the movements as he did so. Fingers gripping her ankles tightly, he looked up at Rylie’s face and saw that her eyes were shut. Leaning forward, he traced his tongue over the line of syrup he had left behind, nipping her skin with his teeth along the way to her lips.

Breathing her name harshly, he felt her fingers dig into his ass cheeks. Capturing her mouth with his, he swallowed another cry as she flew over the next edge he was always able to bring her to, her walls clenching around him tightly, a feeling that he would never tire of. Knowing that he was ready to explode, he lifted his head and watched as her eyes flew open. Locked into the sapphire blue depths, he let himself go and forcefully pushed into her once more, emptying himself.

Collapsing onto her chest, he let his head rest between her breasts forgetting the syrup that still coated them, breath harsh. “Well.”

“That was a much better use for the syrup, I will say although I don't think that'll make it into my cookbook.” Running her hands up and down his strong tanned back, Rylie let her eyes slowly drift shut as Matt loosened the grip he had on her ankles. Letting her legs fall and dangle over the edge of the counter, she slowly opened her eyes. “Your hair’s going to get sticky.”

Rising up on his forearms, Matt nuzzled her lips with his own and grinned, dimples flashing. “Compared to the stickiness on your chest, I think I’ll be okay.” Stepping back, he offered his hand and pulled her up. Dropping a kiss on her lips, he stepped back and looked around. “Shit.”

“I hit the bowl you shoved.” Looking over the edge of the counter that she still sat on, Rylie groaned. “We don’t have any more eggs, either.”

“We have more syrup.” Wiggling his brows as he picked up the bottle from the counter behind him, Matt grinned devilishly. “Let’s say we take this upstairs and shower and then go get more eggs so you can finish that dish and my pancakes.”

“You have a one-track mind, Matthew.” Laughing and slapping his bare ass when he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, Rylie stared at the hardwood floor.

“No, it’s a two-track mind.” Smirking as he carried her up the stairs to their master bathroom even though she couldn’t see, Matt laughed. “One is for food, the other is for sex and seeing as the pancakes aren’t done, I’m going to have to get the best part of having pancakes some other way.”

“So glad I could help you out seeing as you helped me out earlier.” Laughing, Rylie found herself being lowered into the shower cube in the corner of their bathroom.