Just His Type (Part One) by Victoria June Page A

your middle name?"
     
     
    Silence. "Adam?" I prompted.
     
    Adam cleared his throat. "Well... it sort of ruins my tough guy image, you see."
     
    I laughed. "I think the flowered apron you wore tonight might have shot the 'tough guy' thing down already. Come on, spit it out."
     
    He paused for a moment. "Reginald," Adam said softly. "And don't laugh!"
     
    I smothered my giggles into the sofa. "Reginald? Adam Reginald Brooks? Good Lord, that sounds pretentious."
     
    "Thanks," Adam said bitterly. "I was named after my grandfather."
     
    "I'm sorry," I spit out when the laughter subsided. "It's not that bad, really."
     
    "What's yours?" Adam asked. There was a faint hint of laughter in his voice, just enough to let me know he had a sense of humor about his middle name.
     
    I froze.
     
    "Lilly," he reprimanded with a laugh. "Come on, I told you mine."
     
    "Frances," I muttered softly.
     
    Adam snorted with laughter. "We're quite the pair, huh?"
     
    "Yeah, Frances and Reginald. We sound like characters in a bad historical romance novel." I giggled, liking the way the rumble of laughter in his chest felt against my back. "Your turn."
     
    "Favorite food?"
     
    "Macaroni and cheese. Not the fluorescent orange boxed stuff, but real honest-to-goodness homemade Mac n' Cheese swimming in calories. You?"
     
    Adam was quiet for a moment. "Your Mom's apple pie rates pretty highly," he confessed. "I've eaten in some of the best restaurants in the world and her pastry could shame them all."
     
    I smiled into the night. "You should tell her that, she'd like to hear it."
     
    Adam nodded against the top of my head before dropping a small kiss there. "Your turn."
     
    I thought carefully. "Are you really thirty-two?"
     
    Adam chuckled. "Yeah, does that bother you?"
     
    "No," I replied quickly. "You're only a few years older than me."
     
    "How many?" Adam moved his hand slowly from its resting place around my waist to the curved underside of my breast. His first caress was so soft I almost didn't feel it. Instantly the heat lit fiercely in my insides and I knew I should discourage him, but the gentle touch felt wonderful.
     
    "Five," I said huskily, feeling my breath catch in my throat as he found my nipple through the fabric of my pajamas.
     
    "When's your birthday?" Adam ignored my small mew of protest as his touch grew more fervent.
     
    "September 12. Yours?" I closed my eyes against the darkness of the room and concentrated on the delicate sensation of his fingers. My breathing increased.
     
    "July 9." Adam undid a few buttons of my pajama top and slipped his hand inside, cupping my breast. The contact of skin on skin made me jump and moan simultaneously.
     
    "Adam," I reprimanded with a sharp whisper. "I thought you weren't going to jump me."
     
    "It's not 'jumping'," Adam pointed out with a laugh. "Now what's your next question?"
     
    My brain was fogged by the insistent brush of his thumb against my nipple. "What was in France?"
     
    Adam paused his stroking. "Pardon?"
     
    "Last night you said you got your tattoos when you came home from France, as a celebration. I was just wondering what was in France."
     
    Adam chuckled into my hair. "Cooking school. I studied cooking there for a few years, worked in a few restaurants. But I missed home too much to stay."
     
    "Why'd you become a chef?" I asked.
     
    Adam shook his head. "It's my turn to ask a question, Lilly."
     
    I pouted and made a small noise of protest. Adam laughed.
     
    "Alright," he conceded, pinching my nipple as retribution, laughing again when I arched against him as sparks of arousal shot straight to my toes. "I started working in a restaurant when I was a teenager, washing dishes. Eventually I made my way up to cooking on the line. I liked it and I was good at it, so I took off to France when I was twenty to see if I really could make it."
     
    "How long were you there?" I purred as Adam rolled my nipple between thumb and finger. I could feel the