Chapter 230
**Sara**
I woke to golden rays of sunlight dancing across my skin, stretching lazily in the massive bed. The sheets smelled like sex and Tom's cologne - a heady combination that made me smile. My body ached in all the right places, reminding me of our passionate night.
The sound of clattering pans and quiet cursing drifted up from downstairs. I slipped on Tom's discarded dress shirt, leaving the top buttons undone, and padded down to investigate.
Tom stood at the stove wearing just his boxers, his back muscles flexing as he flipped what looked like pancakes. Or at least attempted to flip them.
"Shit," he muttered as another pancake folded in half.
I leaned against the doorframe, admiring the view. "Having trouble there, Tom?"
He turned, spatula in hand. "These pancakes are staging a rebellion." His eyes darkened as they raked over my barely covered body. "That's my shirt."
"Want it back?" I started undoing the remaining buttons.
The spatula clattered to the counter. "The pancakes can wait."
"But I'm hungry." I pouted, even as he stalked toward me.
"I'll feed you something else." He pressed me against the doorframe, his hands sliding under the shirt to grip my bare ass.
I gasped as his fingers found how wet I already was. "The food will burn."
"Don't care." He lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. "Been wanting to fuck you in this kitchen since we got here."
His boxers were tenting impressively. I ground against the bulge, making him groan.
"God, Sara," he murmured against my lips before capturing them in a kiss. His mouth moved with practiced precision, teasing my lower lip with his teeth. His fingers slid under the shirt again, this time slipping between my legs.
I moaned into his mouth as his fingers found my wetness, spreading it up to my clit and circling it in a way that made me arch against him. He swallowed my sounds of pleasure, each touch sending sparks through my body.
"Tom," I managed to gasp between kisses. "We really need to eat."
He didn't stop, his fingers plunging inside me now, curling and stroking in a way that had me seeing stars. "You taste better than any breakfast."
His words were a growl against my neck, making me shiver. But as much as I wanted to let him continue, my stomach growled loudly in protest. The juxtaposition of desire and hunger was almost comical.
I placed my hands on his chest, gently pushing him back. "Tom, I need to eat."
He paused, confusion flickering in his eyes. "But I was—"
I cut him off with a playful smile. "You can fuck me later. Right now, those pancakes need saving."
Tom groaned. "You're wasting a good opportunity here."
"We've got until tomorrow," I teased, running my fingers through his hair. "I'm not wasting it, just delaying it. And you're not even feeding me."
He chuckled, finally setting me down on the cool tile floor. "Fine, go brush your teeth. I'll see what I can salvage here."
As I turned to leave, I glanced back at the mess on the stove. "You know, for someone who supposedly knows how to cook, you sure are making a disaster out of those pancakes."
He raised an eyebrow and gave me a mock, stern look. "Watch it. I'm just out of practice."
"Sure you are," I laughed, heading towards the bathroom.
In the mirror, I looked wild – hair tangled and cheeks flushed from our morning encounter. My lips were slightly swollen from his kisses. The sight made my pulse quicken again, but I forced myself to focus on brushing my teeth.
After finishing up, I wandered back to the kitchen, where Tom had somehow managed to rescue a stack of pancakes. He had set the table with fresh berries and syrup, and the aroma of coffee filled the air.
"Wow," I said, genuinely impressed as I slid into a chair. "Looks like you pulled it off after all."
Tom set a plate in front of me and winked. "Told you I'm just out of practice." He sat across from me and started pouring syrup over his own pancakes.
I took a bite and let out an appreciative hum. "Okay, these are amazing. You're forgiven for the earlier mishap."
"Glad to hear it," he said around a mouthful of food.
We ate in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the tranquility of the mansion and each other's company. Occasionally, our feet would brush under the table, sending little jolts of electricity up my legs.
"So," Tom said after finishing his pancakes, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. "What's on the agenda for today?"
I tilted my head thoughtfully. "Maybe we could explore the area? Go for a hike or something?"
Tom nodded slowly, a mischievous glint in his eye. "A hike sounds good. And then maybe later... we could pick up where we left off this morning?"
I laughed and shook my head at him. "Insatiable much?"
"Only when it comes to you." He stood and began clearing the plates.
I watched him move around the kitchen with practiced ease, appreciating how natural he seemed in this setting – domesticity looked good on him.
As he loaded the dishwasher, I walked up behind him, wrapped my arms around his waist, and rested my cheek against his back. "Thanks for breakfast."
He turned in my embrace and kissed the top of my head. "Anytime."
I changed into yoga pants and a tank top while Tom dug through his bags for proper hiking gear. The man packed like he was preparing for the apocalypse.
"You really brought hiking boots?" I asked, watching him lace up the expensive-looking footwear.
"Always be prepared." He tossed me a baseball cap. "You might want this. The sun's brutal today."
I caught it and examined the designer's logo. "Of course, it's Gucci. Do you own anything that isn't ridiculously expensive?"
"My boxers are from Target."
"Liar." I laughed, adjusting the hat on my head.
The trail started right behind the mansion and wound up into the hills. Tom took the lead, claiming he knew the route. Twenty minutes in, I was already questioning his navigational skills.
"Are you sure this is the right way?" I asked as we passed the same oddly-shaped boulder for what felt like the third time.
"Absolutely." He consulted his phone. "Well, mostly sure."
"Oh god, we're going to die out here." I dramatically slumped against a tree. "They'll find our bodies weeks from now, all because Professor Thomas Blackwood couldn't admit he was lost."
"We're not lost." He squinted at his phone. "We're just... temporarily misplaced."
"That's literally the definition of lost."
He shot me a look. "I thought you wanted adventure."
"Yeah, the fun kind. Not the 'Blair Witch Project' kind."
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