Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I run into his arms again, our mouths crashing together in a flurry of sexual gratification. But then I rip my mouth and body away again. Wiping the corners of my lips, I say, “We can’t do this.”
“She’s waiting on me to pay.”
That sobering thought does the trick. “Right.” I take a deep breath and lick my lips. “You rented my place.” It’s not a question, so I don’t know what I’m asking. I’m still just surprised. Pleasantly so.
“Yeah. I’m hoping the landlord stays to keep me company.”
I lean against the counter, still facing him with my breath racing like my heartbeats. “I’m not sure how I’ll pull that off without her knowing or figuring it out.”
He comes to me, taking hold of my hips. “We’ll figure that out later.” I watch as his tongue seduces his bottom lip and lean against him. When his arms come around me, I feel that same relief I did earlier when I discovered he’d be here for the weekend.
“My family is expecting me. You want to come out and have an early dinner with us?” Tapping the box, he laughs. “And shortcake? I have plenty to go around, though this wasn’t the shortcake I’m craving.”
“Oh yeah. Tell me more about that.”
Bending over me, he kisses my neck. “How about I show you?”
I don’t want to stop. I want to feel him showing me everything until I scream his name. But I know that can’t happen at the time being. I snuggle into the crook of his neck, breathing him and the woodsy cologne in that makes me go weak in the knees. “I’d like to go if the invitation still stands.”
His eyes find mine, and he nods. “The invitation still stands.”
“When are they expecting you?”
The grin on his face widens, and those eyes are bluer than a Texas summer day but hold the intensity of a devil at play. “I didn’t give a time, but I’m thinking they meant around three or four.”
“That’s hours from now,” I whisper.
“How do you want to pass the time?”
Not ten minutes later, I finish tying an apron around his midsection and give his ass a squeeze before I step back. Coming around to face him, I tap the tip of his nose while grinning like a loon. “Do you know how sexy this would be if you were shirtless?”
“You mean how much sexier this would be?” He tugs at the apron’s waist, but then his eyes lift above my head when the kitchen door swings open. I step back from him, putting the metal worktable between us when my mom walks in. She clasps her hands together in delight. “I see Lauralee has recruited you to make cupcakes for the festival.”
“I’m at your daughter’s beck and call, so she can do whatever she wants with me.” His eyes dart to me. “How can I be of service?”
He’s so naughty that I roll my eyes, but when I look at him again, I kind of soften to him. Baylor is trying. He’s here for me without any expectations of what we are or what we were when we parted last hanging over our heads. I wouldn’t call him perfect, but he’s pretty close to it in my book right now.
She says, “Five hundred should cover the first two days.”
He looks at me. “How many are made?”
I hold up a big fat zero with my fingers. “I was planning to make them this afternoon.”
Not deterred in the least, he says, “Well then, let’s get to it.”
CHAPTER 15
Baylor
“Ride with me,” I say, taking a large cupcake pan out of the oven and setting it on the rack behind me. “To the ranch. I’m staying here anyway. I can bring you back to your car or . . . you can stay.”
I peek over at her. She’s leveling the batter in the last pan to go into the oven by tapping the metal to the counter several times. Her hair is nested on top of her head, and flour is dusted across her cheek, or maybe it’s sugar. I’ll need to taste it to verify.
Tasting hasn’t been an issue with her cupcakes. I’ve practically eaten my weight in the small peach cakes. It’s still tempting to take another just to check for quality and all that good stuff.
As soon as she turns toward me, she asks, “Sorry for the banging. I didn’t hear the last part.”
The banging conjures images of her bent over this very worktable or spread across it naked for me. I would lick her nipples free from the powdery mess we made before making her come under some stellar and hit-the-right-spot fucking. I adjust myself over the apron. We were so fucking close to having sex earlier. Hours later, I’m caught in another obligation—heading to Rollingwood to spend time with the fam.