Page 28 of Baked

“So let me get this straight. ’Cause of my dad, you think now is the wrong time for us?”

He didn’t need to answer. His face said it all.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, Hunter, but this is my life. This is who I am. I’m a woman with a shit past that just keeps on giving. You don’t think I’ve spent most of my life dealing with this? You think a few weeks is gonna suddenly cure me from a lifetime of having a deadbeat dad? It doesn’t work like that. And my feelings for you aren’t gonna change based on what day it is. I’m pretty damn sure the past year has proved that already. So if you don’t want this, you need to man the fuck up and tell me now.”

By the time she was finished, she was out of breath, her whole body shaking with hurt, pain, and something like fear. What if this really was his way of ending things? Saying the right things to placate her but not acting on them, because they were lies. And then when this was over and she wasn’t in danger, he’d tell her the truth and rip her heart out.

Before she had time to delve deeper into her head, his mouth slammed down onto hers, pulling her lips apart with his teeth and growling into her throat as he devoured her.

Okay, so maybe this counts as an action.

It was certainly the most action she’d gotten since their date. One that got her blood pumping and heat shooting through her veins.

Jerking his hips forward, his hands cupped her ass and pulled her into him until hardness hit her belly.

Is that ...?

Yes, it was. The one thing a man couldn’t hide. And it was finally making an appearance. Thank God.

She lost his tongue as he drew back, but his mouth was still on hers. “You feel that?” he growled. “You feel what you do to me?”

She nodded, her brain way too cloudy to do much else.

“Don’t ever fucking doubt how much I want you.” His voice deepened and his grip on her ass tightened. “I’m doing everything in my power right now to stop myself from bending you over this counter and taking what’s mine.”

That did it. The fire was stoked. And now that he’d said it, it was all she could think about.

“What are you waiting for?” she whispered into him.

Another roar ripped through him as he took her mouth again, kissing the hell out of her with an urgency and desperation she felt all the way down to her toes.

This was how they should have been spending the past few days together. This was so much better than small talk and baking, side glances, and unspoken truths.

With her newfound confidence, her fingers trailed down, gliding over black cotton until they reached the hem and slid under. No matter how many times she touched him, she’d never get used to how it made her feel. Every skate of her fingers, every scrape of her nails, and every press of her hand made her throat drier. Her thirst grow thicker.

His clever tongue pulled another whimper out of her as he angled his face to get deeper.

Suddenly, she was grateful for the counter. Her body could no longer be trusted to stay upright on its own, not as it blazed beneath his big hands. Big hands that were edging their way even further up her thigh. So high that when his thumb brushed against her denim-covered center, her whimpers quickly turned to moans.

A moment later, Hunter’s mouth was no longer trying to swallow her whole and instead had declared war on her senses. It wasn’t just his wet lips dragging down her neck that made her pulse quicken, it was the scrape of his stubble against her sensitive skin. The exquisite burn that had her head lolling back.

“I warned you I wouldn’t be able to stop next time I had my mouth on you.”

As if to demonstrate his lack of control, the hand that had been slowly torturing her flicked open her jean button with ease. With a slow drag of the zipper, she knew her bright pink panties were now on display.

“I wanted to do this right, take you slow and sweet. But you’ve got me so hard, I can’t see straight, baby.”

Fuck slow and sweet.

“I-I ...” Her words died on her tongue as his fingers slid under the pink lace. Only a muffled moan left her throat, bouncing off the walls.

Before she lost all functionality, she pushed at his shirt. She needed to see him. Feel him. Sadly, that meant her core momentarily lost his fingers as he helped her pull the cotton up and lift it over his head.

But before she had a chance to admire him and all his muscular glory, he was yanking at her vest, not satisfied until it joined his shirt on the floor.

The clasp on her bra was next to be unhooked as his fingers resumed their assault in her panties, function officially lost as his mouth found her nipple and his teeth clamped down.

Sweet baby Jesus.

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