Mom came over and kissed my cheek. My face felt hot. I was afraid to look at her. She saw how red and embarrassed I was, and she rubbed my back.
"It's not your fault, baby," she said softly. "I should have closed the door."
I blew out a breath and finally turned to look at her. She was wearing that obscenely short, thin pink robe again. I could tell instantly that it was all she was wearing. I forced myself to smile and to look at her eyes. At the same time, I could feel my throbbing erection threatening to burst right out of the opening in the front of my boxers.
"I'll be more careful," I said, then added. "How many slices of French toast would you like?"
"Two will be fine," she replied.
I pulled a bit of a face. The handful of times I had cooked French toast, I had made enough for t
