Page 41 of Resisting You
"That's cheating!" I cried. "It's not even a cupcake anymore!"
"What are you talking about? Of course it's still a cupcake!"
"Nope! I call a foul. That's now a cake sandwich!"
"But look!" He gestured at his face and hands which were severely lacking the buttercream explosion I suffered a mere seconds earlier. "No mess! It's the perfect way to eat a cupcake."
"Yeah, if you're a cheater." I moved to tickle him, but he scooted back on the bench, grinning.
"Don't you dare. Your fingers are still covered in frosting."
I bit my lip and lifted my fingers up, wiggling them in his face. "They're sticky, too."
He laughed, but shook his head in warning. "Rosa, don't wage a war you can't win."
"Who says I can't win? I'm the one with all the weapons." Again, I wiggle my frosting covered fingers at him, then waste no time, diving them into his ribs tickling.
He swiftly drops his cupcake and attacks back, pulling our bodies flush together and tickling me, clutching me.
Panting, we were nose to nose, him locking our bodies together. "Surrender?" he asked.
"Never."
His eyes wandered my face, pausing on my lips and the muscled column of his throat worked a swallow. "You have frosting on your mouth."
I tried to wipe at the corner of my lips, but it didn't do much good since my fingers were still covered in the sticky residue of frosting.
Noah's voice was smooth and soothing as he said, "Let me." His breath puffed against my lips, sending tingles down the back of my neck like a shiver.
My breath hitched as he lifted his thumb, slowly brushing the buttercream off of the corner of my mouth. He paused, waiting to gauge my reaction. But I couldn't think straight. The world around us faded away and everything was fuzzy as time stood still in that moment.
"Noah," I whispered, his name a moan.
“Nuh-uh,” he said, his minty hot breath bathing my lips. “I meant what I said. You have to kiss me.”
“Even if I beg for it?”
I could feel his smirk. “Is this you begging?”
“Maybe.”
With a smile, he shook his head. “Not even then. But if you really want a kiss, you know what to do.”
Without thinking, I parted my lips, touching them to his with a soft sigh. It was the green light he needed. He didn't waste any time taking advantage of my parted lips and I swallowed hard as his tongue swept into my mouth, seeking out the tip of mine. He took his time with me, caressing my tongue with his own.
Maple and buttercream lingered on his lips and the scratch of his five o'clock shadow rasped against my skin, making me groan. The heat of Noah’s mouth on mine, the electric jolt of excitement made me tremble.
His hands explored the curve of my spine, skimming over my hip and dipping in between the waistband of my skirt to brush the bare, sensitive skin there.
Our kiss was interrupted by a sharp sound along with a bright burst of light that exploded through the glass pane of the window next to us.
Startled, I pulled away only to realize that we were being photographed by one of the customers in line, waiting outside of the bakery.
Gone was our perfect, private moment.
Gone was our quiet first kiss.
Because this wasn't real. We weren't real. And Noah could never be the man who I shared a lovely quiet Sunday eating cupcakes and coffee with. It wasn't in his cards. He was a superstar. And with that came a lack of privacy that I'd promised myself I would never compromise again.
