Quote by Cynthia Timoti

“When the heavenly combination of sweet strawberries and gooey, fluffy pancakes exploded in my mouth, I let out a low, throaty moan that wasn't suitable for the breakfast table. Those girls he was talking about? Yeah, they knew what was up, because honestly, who wouldn't want to be eating these for the rest of their lives? Just for the pancakes alone, I'd marry him in a heartbeat. Men who can cook are hot AF. He was an excellent cook. Perhaps that first bite was a bit of a fluke. I was starving, so my tastebuds were probably warped. But when the second and third bites were followed by the second and third moans, it became obvious that his pancakes were making me experience something orgasmic. In fact, the closest thing I'd had to a non-battery-operated orgasm in a while. "Who are you?" I looked up to see him staring at me, his eyes darkening, and his fork suspended in midair. "Eric never mentioned his friend being a culinary genius." He slowly lowered the fork, his eyes still on mine. "Told you so." "Relax. I won't leap over this countertop and profess my undying love to you, or, God forbid, jump your bones." I speared the last piece, then wiped the remaining strawberry jam with it, making sure not to miss a single morsel. "Not even your pancake can make me like you." "Maybe my homemade waffles could change your mind." Glasses + pancakes + waffles? I could be in huge trouble.”

Quote by Cynthia Timoti