Page 25 of Stuck with Me

“Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Rosalie spins around and opens another cupboard. She reaches for something on a shelf, rising to her tiptoes and it’s hard to miss the way her sweater lifts with her movement. I’m given a tempting view of the alluring curve of her round ass. The bare skin on her back that’s captivating me to stare. I don’t bother asking if she needs help reaching something. I just continue staring like a guy whose been lost at sea for seven days without food or water.

And I’mstarving.

At last, she finds what she was searching for: a bottle of ibuprofen. Regretfully, she spins back around and faces me, her expression screwed up in a scowl. I think I prefer her backside rather than her front. Now my mind has gone dark, and straight into the gutter.

She struggles with the bottle for a moment before finally getting the lid off and she pops three pain relievers into her mouth, chasing them down with whiskey.

“As much as I hate to ask,” she pauses, inhaling a deep breath, and releases it while I wait. “I need your help with something.”

My dick has an imagination of its own. It’s instantly hard and ready to help with whatever her request may be. But in my head, I already know this isn’t going to end well for him. A woman like Rosalie doesn’t need help with getting off. Besides having an endless supply of guys in town to choose from as she pointed out at the bar last night, she seems to know how to get the job done herself just fine.

Although if she allowed me to pleasure her, she’d never find her own fingers satisfactory. She’d be begging for me. For my fingers. My tongue. My cock.

“Anything,” I find myself saying in response without thinking.

You shithead.

CHAPTER7

Rosie

Nico’s banter is top-notch. But messing around with the enemy is not something I’m prepared to do. Looking into his eyes causes conflict to burrow in my gut. Because while he feels like someone who could keep up with me sexually, he’s the person standing between me and the one thing I hold closest to my heart.

Fuck my needs. I’m stronger than this.

“Cinnamon rolls.”

His expression scrunches, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“The dough is ready and with my wrist, there’s no way I’ll be able to roll it out.”

“Ah, I see.” He pushes a hand through his hair. “I’m not much of a baker, but I suppose if you walk me through it…” He shrugs.

“I’ve done most of the work already. All I need is your hands.”

He lifts his gaze to me, and fire burns between us in our shared eye contact. My toes curl inside my fuzzy socks.

“Based on events from earlier, I beg to differ.” He smirks.

I swallow. If I wasn’t already horny, I’m fucking done for now.

“You’re right. In that department, I’m good. I mean, why settle for mediocre?” I flash him a daring smile as I press a hip against the counter.

Nico’s eyes darken while he leans closer to me, and I hold my breath. “For the record, if given the opportunity, the two wouldn’t compare.”

“Aw boo,” I say, pushing my lips into a pout, “it’s too fucking bad you won’t be given the opportunity.”

Nico doesn’t break eye contact with me when he picks up the frozen vegetables. He sets them on my sore wrist, and I suck in a sharp breath. “You sure about that, Kit-Kat?”

Desire suspends in the space between us. Giving into the temptation of his challenging eyes, ofhim, would be so easy. He’s granting me not only permission, but he’s insistent I give in. My competitive nature is on overdrive and I’m hyperaware of not only that, but of the arousal pooling between my thighs.

I can’t deny that I want him.

But that doesn’t mean I’ll admit it to him.

It takes all my restraint to push him away. And I do so literally. Pressing a finger into the center of his chest, I nudge him backward so I can breathe freely again. “Take that cocky attitude elsewhere, Mr. Cabin-Stealer. You already got closer to my pussy than you should’ve.”

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