Dawn stared at George as he inched closer to her and he took a deep breath, obviously taking in the scent of her arousal.
"Cinnamon…", he murmured.
Cinnamon? Dawn thought how that was odd. Why would he talk about the cinnamon rolls she brought for him? They were still on the plate. She would be happy if he ate pastries she personally made, but what's with this timing?
As if he could sense her confusion, George clarified, "You smell of cinnamon. The delicious kind." He gave her another sniff. "There is some honeyed sweetness, like an apple pie with cinnamon."
Dawn saw George lick his lips and she understood that he wanted to eat, and the food was her. In an instant, her arousal swelled through the roof, and she feared that her juices will drip down her legs. That would be embarrassing.
She inhaled a shaky breath. "Clover."
"What?"
"Your scent is like a meadow full of flowers, but the sweet scent of clover stands out.", she explained.
