I grab a clean fork and dig in, sit back, and sigh in happiness. “Jesus,” he mutters, and when I open my eyes, he’s scowling. “What?” “You make some sexy fucking noises when you eat.” I blink at him. What am I supposed to say to that? Rather than try to think of something, I take another bite of pie and really work at not moaning. Honest, I truly try. But I can’t help it because that might be the best pumpkin pie I’ve ever eaten. Blake clears his throat. “Sorry,” I mutter. “It’s not my fault. The pie is delicious.” His jaw clenches. His dark eyes narrow on me. And I clench my thighs because
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