Free Wanting Wilder by Michele Zurlo Page A

for lusting after him.
    “I take it you’re not a morning person?” She racked her brain, trying to remember if he’d been grumpy in the morning. Nope. While he hadn’t been talkative, he’d been horny both mornings she’d awoken by his side.
    His gaze lifted, and she smiled at his bleariness. He stared for the longest time, his nose scrunched as he processed her question. At last his eyes narrowed. “Coffee.”
    She chuckled at his apparent grouchiness. With her mind firmly focused, she opened various cupboards and studied her options. The list of breakfast possibilities she’d made in her head the night before quickly dwindled as she surveyed the available materials. In her rush to get to work, she had neglected to shop for more than just a few basics. Since she wasn’t much of a morning eater, she’d bought mostly dinner items. Good thing she was a coffee junkie too. “We need to go grocery shopping.”
    “Okay.”
    She’d been muttering under her breath, so Wilder’s answer took her by surprise. He hadn’t looked mentally present. When she looked over her shoulder, she found the bleariness gone. He gazed at her, hardness glittering from his icy eyes. Sir had definitely awoken.
    “Thank you, Sir.”
    He lifted his chin in a dismissive nod, and then he turned his attention to the tablet she hadn’t noticed on the table.
    Given the lack of available options, Lydia threw together potato hash, mixing in diced red peppers, mushrooms, and asparagus tips. Luckily she found sausage links in the freezer. Depriving Sir of meat on the first day would have set a bad precedent.
     
    WILDER SPENT MORE time glancing up to study Lydia’s ass in those cute little yoga pants than on the digital pages of the newspaper on his tablet. He cared about world affairs, but right now he cared more about how his cock responded to the way that dark fabric stretched over her delectable heart-shaped bottom as she bent to rummage for a saucepan.
    Down, boy. She’s not ours.
    At least she hadn’t mentioned going to the office. Under normal circumstances, he would have helped her get things unpacked and settled. However, his intuition screamed at him to make her relax before she went to work. He’d fail with her if she had an option of burying her attention elsewhere. She’d never truly relax, acclimate to the atmosphere at Oasis, and let down her guard. Sure, she’d fit in, but she would never really feel like she belonged.
    Delicious aromas drifted across the kitchen. Lydia had the cutting board out. Since her back was to him, he couldn’t see what she had on it, but when it hit the pan, he identified butter and potatoes. When he’d ordered her to make breakfast, it was in an attempt to establish some clear norms. In reality, he didn’t care if she cooked, poured cereal, or refused to serve anything. As long as he had coffee, he was happy.
    But he knew she craved structure, and the responsibility to provide that fell on his shoulders. When she slid a plate in front of him, full of diced potatoes laced with other things he couldn’t identify, he forgot all about the reasons he’d given the order. The woman was a born cook. He could eat this every day for the rest of his life and never grow tired of it.
    Less than ten minutes later, he set his fork on his empty plate. “Pet, you are a very talented cook. Thank you for breakfast.”
    She glanced up, surprise turning her irises to buttered honey. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Sir. I like to cook. I just never get much of a chance to do it.”
    He’d read her correctly. He rose, cleared the table, and then started in on the dishes. “Are you planning to head downstairs and work out this morning?”
    “If that’s all right with you.”
    He threw a grin over his shoulder. “I’ll join you.”
    Joining her turned out to be a mistake. He couldn’t keep his gaze from following her around the room. Her shirt and pants clung to her curves, emphasizing her breasts, her ass, her