Page 113 of With a Cherry On Top

Why doesn’t that do anything for me?

BecauseCharlotte.

She’s not Charlotte.

Nobody is.

“I’m flattered, Penny. Really. But I’m already seeing someone, and—” A knock comes at my front door, and she avoids my gaze as I stand from my stool. “Excuse me.”

I walk over and open it, my jaw almost hitting the floor when I see Charlotte standing on the other side, wrapped in an oversized burgundy sweater and a plaid mini skirt that swishes around her thighs as she shifts her weight.

“What—”

She quickly steps in, then grips my hand and pulls me toward the stairs.

“Wait,” I whisper, eyes running down her long bare legs, all the way to the white knee-high socks and vintage brown heels. I thought she couldn’t leave the house—I’d already given up on seeing her until tomorrow. “Penny’s here.”

“Uh-huh.” She tugs at my hand but I stand my ground, so she purrs, “Tell her you’ll be back soon.”

“What—why?”

I throw a worried look at the kitchen, and once I turn back to her, she steps closer until her forehead is pressed against mine. “Because it turns out Iamjealous.”

Seriously?I hesitate, but who am I kidding? She left me starving for days, and now she’s serving herself to me on a silver platter.

I won’t be able to say no.

“Penny, uh, help yourself to another coffee. I’ll be right back,” I call. Once she says it’s no problem, I follow Charlotte upstairs and guide her into my bedroom.

My heartbeat is through the roof, and I briefly wonder again how much of this is self-destructive behavior, because I’m hard the second the door closes behind us.

I guide her toward the bed, but instead she pushes me against my door, my back hitting it with a thump.

She leans forward, her lips hovering so close to mine that her breath—hot and teasing—washes over my skin like a promise. My cock twitches in anticipation, already straining against my briefs.

I don’t want to get my hopes up again, but is she going to kiss me? Am I the exception to her rules?

“Did she already do it?”

“Do what?” I breathe. “Who?”

“Penny,” she says, as if her name alone is insulting. “Did she ask you out?”

“Yeah,” I breathe as her long, lethal fingers find my belt, and the sound of it unbuckling is obscenely loud in the silence. I pant, and my cock throbs in agreement, desperate for her touch.

“Did you tell her that you belong to me?”

Her hand slides to my zipper, tugging it down with agonizing slowness, the rasp of metal against metal sending a jolt of electricity straight to my balls.

God, she’s killing me.

“Yes.”

Her fingers hook into the waistband of my briefs, and I let out a strangled noise as she pulls them down, letting my cockspring free, already leaking pre-cum at the tip. The cool air brushes against my feverish skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of her gaze as she steps back, her eyes locked on my dick.

I have no idea what’s about to happen, but I might explode before I find out.

“Who do you belong to, Chef?”

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