Page 31 of Stuck with Me

“Thanks,” she mumbles.

We don’t talk while we do the same with the other side.

“Just for the record, I didn’t need your help,” she states.

“You never do, do you?”

She frowns at me but seems to hold in whatever she’s planned on saying. I watch her even though I try not to, as she goes into the kitchen. I follow and wait while she puts two cinnamon rolls on two plates.

Rosalie hands me a plate. “Dinner is served.”

“I thought cinnamon rolls were dessert?” I tease.

“Again, they’re magic. They can be whatever you need them to be.” Her brown eyes sparkle and there’s a hint of a smile behind her lips.

“Thank you.” I hold the plate and wait for her to take a bite first.

Rosalie uses the rung on one of the stools to hoist herself up onto the kitchen island. I sit on the other stool and practically drool. I don’t know if it’s from how delicious the cinnamon roll looks, or how appetizing Rosalie looks as she sits on the island with her sweater hugging her body loosely leaving her bare shoulder teasing me. She’s dressed in a pair of leggings with her legs spread apart slightly. And as she gazes at her cinnamon roll, she licks her lips.

She looks like a meal served up on the counter just for me.

My heart beats faster. I wait and watch intently as she pushes her fork through the flaky pastry and then puts the bite into her mouth. Her eyes roll back before her lashes flutter closed and she moans.

She. Fucking. Moans.

“Oh Go—” her words fall as she shoves another forkful into her mouth.

If nothing else, I take a bite to distract me. And holy shit. Thisisgood. It melts in my mouth. All sweet and gooey goodness.

“So?”

“It’s really good.”

“See, told you.” She says it so proudly it’s actually kind of cute.

But then she’s taking another bite and releasing little mewls and I’m instantly aroused again.

“Mmm.” Her head falls back and then she shakes it slowly. “Ahh, this is so good. SO GOOD! Mmm so fucking good!”

The moans coming from her while she devours the cinnamon roll sound like she’s experiencing the most mind-blowing orgasm of her life. But I want to be the one eliciting those sounds from her.

I’m jealous of a fucking cinnamon roll.

“I’ve never heard someone be so vocal when they eat. You’re driving me insane with all that moaning.”

She shrugs a shoulder. “What can I say, I don’t hold back when I experience something this mind-blowing.”

“It sounds like you’re having an orgasm over a cinnamon roll.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know how I sound when I orgasm,” she teases.

My skin heats and thrums through my limbs all the way to my fingertips.

“I would,” I say, my voice growling.

“Yeah?” she challenges, her eyes darkening.

“Yeah,” I grunt.

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