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“Over the past few years, I'd been so busy with Dark Castle that I'd never truly gotten into cooking or baking shows. I reconsidered them now. Watching Lucian move about the kitchen, all firm confidence and loose-limbed grace, was pure porn for me. Heaven help me, but the way his ropy forearms moved as he briskly whipped up egg whites or heavy cream----because the man never used a blender for these things----would get me so hot and bothered I'd have to press my thighs together under the cover of the battered farm table. And when he kneaded dough? Sweet baby Jesus. He did this little grunt every time he thrust the heels of his hands over the springy mass. A deep rumbling grunt as his whole taut body rocked toward the countertop. And then there were was the pullback, when he'd breathe in, those wide shoulders of his rolling in a steady rhythm. Grunt. Thrust. Breathe. Pull. It was a wonder I didn't orgasm on the spot watching him.” — Kristen Callihan