Page 42 of Hard to Take

“There you are!” Brooke hovers in the doorway.

She’s wearing these green leggings and a matching top with a Kodiaks zippered sweatshirt over top. Her face is perfectly made up, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Waffles pokes his head between her feet, a purple bandana around his neck.

When he sees me, he dashes over, a squirming ball of energy and happy yips.

My bag lands on the floor as I bend down to scratch his ears, which I swear are softer than usual.

“That smell…” It’s heaven. Cinnamon and sugar.

“I baked. You like cinnamon rolls?”

Fuck me.

I didn’t expect to be greeted by some kind of cheerleader-with-a-spatula fantasy.

I grab my bag and take it inside, letting the door click after me.

Brooke heads back into the kitchen and bends to open the oven. Her ass looks so fucking good in those leggings that it’s all I can do not to drag her against me right this second.

“New outfit?”

Let everything in the oven burn. I’ll eat the charred remains with a grin.

“It’s from the same company that offered me a collaboration. Nova and I were down at a gallery putting some shots together for a post.”

She sets a plate with one sticky bun on it front of me. It’s a work of art, the glaze glistening on top.

My stomach growls and I rip off a piece of the pastry and devour it. My tastebuds sing.

Fuck, that’s good.

I peel off a piece and hold it out.

She goes to take it, but I shake her off until she opens her mouth.

I pop it in. Her lips brush my fingers and my dick jumps a mile.

Brooke looks surprised but reaches for her phone, turning up the cracked screen.

“Still haven’t gotten a new one?”

“Got other things on my mind.”

She flips through photos and holds one up.

In it, she’s posing with one leg extended out behind her and one hand above her head. The light streams in from a window, shining on her golden skin.

I swipe through, and each one’s better than the last.

Then another where she’s laughing.

A third that’s a selfie with her and Nova, and they’re both grinning and unselfconscious.

“Whatever they’re paying you, Princess, it’s not enough.”

I tear off another piece of the cinnamon bun and eat it. Goddamn.

“If this is a thank you for the sex, I’m impressed,” I say when I’m finished.

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