Page 27 of Dessert Flirt Repeat
She lets out a soft laugh. There goes that fluttering in my chest again. Fucking hell, it feels good to see her smile, to hear her laugh after seeing her so sad.
“You’re incredible.”
When she starts to shake her head, I gently squeeze her hand in mine. “You are, Becca. You’re fucking amazing. You own your own business. You’ve been through all that shit, and instead of turning bitter, which you’d have every right to be, you’re still one of the sweetest and kindest people I’ve ever met.”
There’s a dazed look in her eyes, like she can’t believe what I’ve said.
It’s then that I realize I’ve scooted closer to her. Our faces are barely a few inches apart.
“Your ex is the biggest dipshit on the planet. He had you waiting at home for him in a whipped cream bikini, looking hot as fuck, and he blew it.”
The corners of her mouth quirk up in a shy smile. “Thanks for saying that.”
“It’s the truth.”
I let go of her hand. She glances down at it for a long second.
A few quiet moments stretch between us. I notice the air feels different—thicker, almost.
I look back at her phone. “No whipped cream. We’ll find something else to do.”
“What about an ice cream body shot?” Becca says.
I look up at her.
She frowns, like she’s attempting to refocus, and points to the phone.
Gage takes an ice cream body shot off of Becca! A dollop of ice cream, hot fudge, and a cherry! Delicious ;)
When I finish reading, my skin is hot, like I’ve been baking out in the sun for hours, even though it’s nighttime and I’m indoors.
“Let’s do it,” I growl.
Minutes later Becca and I are on the floor. She’s lying down, her T-shirt hiked up to just below her boobs. I’m kneeling next to her, perpendicular to her waist, a small bowl of ice cream in my hand.
I take in the expanse of perfect flesh in front of me. A few freckles are sprinkled across the left side of her stomach. A shiver moves through me, shaking me from the top of my head all the way to my hands and feet. Well, shit. She is beautiful.
I fixate on how smooth her stomach looks. So fucking soft.
A hard swallow moves down my throat. In a few seconds, I’m going to find out just how fucking soft Becca’s skin is. I need to get my shit together.
She blinks, those mile-long lashes revealing a deep blue stare. “You ready?” There’s a slight shake in her voice, and I can see the fabric of her shirt shuddering the slightest bit with each beat of her heart. She’s nervous.
“You sure you want to do this? You sure you’re comfortable?” I ask.
Without even blinking, she nods at me.
“I need to hear you say it, Becca.” My voice is a low growl. I bet I sound like an animal, and it makes me embarrassed as fuck. I haven’t even touched her yet, and I’m in shambles.
“I want to do this with you, Gage.” Her words fall out in a single breath. Her chest heaves. She sounds like she’s sprinted a mile.
The effect her raspy affirmation has on me is instant. A second later I’ve spooned a dollop of vanilla ice cream on her stomach along with a drizzle of hot fudge.
Her stomach sinks in, and her breath catches. “It’s so cold,” she whispers, like she can’t believe it.
My eyes cut to her face. “Still okay?”
She bites her perfect bottom lip and nods at me. “Yes,” she says a second later, like she remembers just how much her verbal confirmation means to me.
