Pinch of Naughty by Gem Sivad Page A

her back and pulled the sheet over her.
    He woke to find the sun creeping into view, turning dark to morning light. He had Eleanor’s head cradled on his chest, her hand splayed open on his thigh two inches from his dick. Lazily he contemplated waking her for thirds, but before he could, her eyes popped open, meeting his gaze alertly.
    “It’s late,” she said, scrambling to leave the bed. “I’ve got dough I didn’t punch down last night.” She grabbed her nightgown and hurried on her way. “Breakfast can’t be late.”
    He groaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow over his head. As usual, Eleanor had the last word. She’d left him sporting a morning hard-on with no place to put it.
    He was hungry for more than breakfast when the men filed into the dining hall. Apparently oblivious to him, Eleanor moved quietly around the table, filling the men’s coffee cups, switching out platters of food, and generally tending her business and ignoring his. His morning cock stand re-engorged when Eleanor stretched over the table, refilling a plate of toast. He savored the sausage drenched in syrup at the same time he savagely forked flapjacks, contemplating firing his cook for dereliction of duty.
    Eleanor left and his cock had just begun to settle down when Henley finished off the last pancake.
    “You need to marry someone like that, boss. It would be a nice thing to have good eats like this year-round,” he muttered, his mouth full.
    “Jesus fucking Christ,” Cyrus snarled. “She’s fed you three days and you’re ready to sell my freedom for a goddamned flapjack. Henley, ride drag today and eat dust.”
    The men didn’t linger over coffee after that and Cyrus followed them toward the door, irritated at Eleanor for being a good cook.
    “Mr. Burke, might I have a moment of your time?” Before he could escape, she stopped him.
    “Not now.” He tried to brush past her and keep moving. Slapping his hat against his leg as much to hide his erection as to vent irritation, he headed for the door. Walking was already painful and riding the ridge of his hard-on all day was going to be pure torture.
    “Mr. Burke, I need a word with you.” She put her hand on his arm, tugging him to a stop. It was impossible for her to look down her nose at him, since he was a foot and a half taller, but she sure as hell tried.
    “I said I’d haul your tomfoolery into town. We don’t have anything else to say. I’ll deduct the cost from your wages.” He shrugged his arm, trying to shake her hand free.
    “I need to tell you something,” she said, hanging on.
    “Eleanor,” he warned her. “You need to step away.” She was so close the sweet perfume of her musk swamped him and his nuts turned to stone.
    “I heard what that ranch hand suggested and I knew immediately that, arrogant as you are, you would decide I’m attempting to trap you into a marriage.” Her chin elevated and her eyes flashed scorn when she said, “I just want to make it perfectly clear that is not the case. You are safe from my wiles. I will never marry again.”
    “Of course you will.” Cyrus snorted and shook his arm, trying to shed her touch.
    “Want us to go on without you, Cyrus?” His foreman took that moment to ride up to the porch and shout.
    “I’m on my way,” he yelled back, scowling at Eleanor.
    “Whether you think I’m plotting to snare you or not, lovely as they are, your continued attentions hold no allure for me. Kindly remember in your pin-brain that I am working to earn money for my pastry shop.” Eleanor’s words were tart and for his ears alone.
    Cyrus’ cock jumped as he watched her nibble her bottom lip as if tasting him again and he backed toward the door before he lost control and pounced on her. She followed.
    “Eleanor, me and my pin-brain have work to do. The boys are waiting.” All the blood in his body surged south, his breath constricting so tightly the words came out in a rough parody of his usual voice.
    “Of