Page 38 of The Bet

“I need to make another batch of cupcakes. One of the staff is coming in before opening to frost the last ones, so I can go home after that. If you want, you can go home, and I’ll be there in an hour and a half.”

“Why don’t you show me how to bake cupcakes?”

She cocks her head sideways. “You want me to teach you how to bake cupcakes?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” And I sure don’t want to go home–alone–waiting for her to show up. I’d rather sit in the corner like a kid in a time out than leave her.

“Well….” She grins. “Let’s do this. Go wash up and get back over here.” The excitement in her eyes makes me regret not doing this sooner.

After I’m properly sanitized, I return to the counter where she hands me a pink bowl and spoon. “Here are your utensils.”

“Okay.” I stare at them and sit the bowl down. “What do I do with this?” I swing the pink spoon in my hand. The girl has an obsession with pink, white, and yellow.

She waggles her eyebrows. “You stir with it.”

“Perfect.” I roll my eyes at her teasing.

“I’m kidding.” She grabs another small bowl, this one is yellow, and pours flour into it. “You need two cups of flour.” She transfers it to the bigger bowl. “You stir. I’ll tell you what comes next and add the ingredients.”

“You got it, Sugar.” I had different plans for the evening, but this is better. The bakery will always be my favorite place.

We work side by side as she tells me the different amounts and pours each ingredient into the mixture. She doesn’t use one measuring cup or spoon to divvy out the proper amounts. Clearly, she could bake cupcakes with her eyes closed. “How am I doing?”

“Good.” She grabs my hand and shows me how to fold the batter into itself. The closeness of her breasts brushing against my bicep makes the hairs on my arm raise.Lord, who knew cooking could be so erotic?

“Thank you.” My voice is rougher than I expected it to be, causing her to shiver.

Two minutes later, I have a smooth yellow goo in the bowl and not a smidge of dried ingredients stuck to the bottom. I’m feeling pretty good about myself at this point. I lift a spoonful into the air above the bowl and let it drain back down into the remaining batter.

“Good?” I look over at her, and her eyes are glued to my forearms. When she glances up, the heat in her eyes makes my knees weak. Obviously, I’m not the only one turned on by cooking. Heat floods over me.

“Yes.” She clears her throat. “You’re doing great.”

“Is it ready?”

“It’s perfect.” She shoves the bowl out of the way. “But now we need to let it set.”

“We do?” I frown. I’ve never seen her let the batter sit.

“Yes, we do.” She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls my lips to hers. “Watching you bake is hot.”

“Thank you.” I smash my mouth against hers. To hell with the cupcakes. If we ruin them, we can make more. I use my arm toswipe everything out of the way. When the glass bowls slap together, she cringes but doesn’t stop running her hands through my hair.

I taste the seam of her lips and she greedily opens for me, allowing my tongue to dive inside and dance with hers.

As much as I needed the warmth of her kitchen, I need to be surrounded by her more. I lift her off the floor and onto the counter. When she’s perched on the hard surface, I push her skirt up to her thighs and step between her legs. “I’ve missed you today,” I growl and run my lips along the column of her neck.

“Yeah, me, too.”

When I headed to work, she was still asleep. She grabs my t-shirt and yanks the fabric from my jeans. When her hands skate over my abs, I hiss, and need grows deeper inside of me. It’s like the fires that I fight. Greedy and all-consuming.

In less benevolent hands, she’d destroy me. Yet, she’s the person who puts me all together. Her hands grasp my belt buckle and weaves the leather from the clasp.

“Not so fast, Baby.” I dig my hand into my pocket and empty the contents onto the counter. I don’t need anything weighing me down.

“Yes, so fast,” she pants and unfastens my jeans, grasping my erection against her dainty palm. “I need to touch you. Watching you in my kitchen made my panties soaked.” She smirks. “If I would have had any on.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?” I raise the skirt the rest of the way to her waist.Beautiful, sweet curves.“Damn you.” I yank her forward, making her hand fall from my cock. She grasps the counter to keep from falling to the floor. “I need to taste your sweet honey.”