Page 128 of Bake the Town Red

My eyes raked over her bright orange T-shirt. Over the Edward Scissorhands apron I’d gifted her for her last birthday. I lingered on every flour splotch, every frosting smear. Gazed lower to her ripped jeans and her bare toes.

“I’ll bite back,” she threatened, her expression dead serious. I had no doubt she would. “Consider yourself warned.”

“Just come over here.” A low laugh burst past my lips when she scowled at me. Crazy and beautiful. That was her, and I fucking loved that. “You can bite me all you like after.”

Her breathing hitched at that. In two steps, she was so close she had to tilt her head up to see me. More red burst on her cheeks. Her breaths slowed. Her hand went to the cupcake.

I shook my head. Her hand dropped. Just like that.

She was mine.

“Open up,” I meant to say, but whispered instead, my voice hoarse.

Her lips parted the tiniest bit. Her sweet tongue rested on her bottom lip, ready for the cupcake.

For me.

“That’s it.” My jeans felt tight at the groin. “Bite, Dahlia.”

We were both eager for this moment. Too eager that I moved the cupcake her way the moment she inched her face toward me.

Strawberry frosting and cupcake connected to her mouth. Got smeared all around it. I doubted a bite of it actually made its way past her lips.

The accident ruined the moment and created another one instead. Dahlia and I were wide-eyed for a second before we burst out laughing.

I placed the cupcake on the counter. Dahlia lifted her forearm to wipe her mouth.

“Now, little savage.” My fingers curled around her wrist. The skin on her forearm broke in goosebumps I pretended to ignore. Therewould be time for us. I had to take it slow. “Don’t you want to taste your cupcake? See what’s missing?”

Her pulse jackhammered beneath the pads of my fingers. She gazed at the floor, then up at me beneath her eyelashes. “I’m a mess. I have to clean this.”

“Let me help.” Using two fingers, I collected the smashed cupcake from Dahlia’s bottom lip and the area under it. Pressed my fingers to the tip of her tongue. “Here. Taste.”

She wrapped her lips around me. Licked me. Fucking sucked.

I suppressed a groan. The blood surging to my cock didn’t help my situation one fucking bit.

Stopping wasn’t an option either, though. I pushed my fingers farther in, behind her teeth, nearly reaching her throat.

“Lips. Closed. Tighter,” I grunted.

She did. Closed her eyes. Sucked me harder. Moaned.

This wasn’t the right moment to tell her I wanted her. Couldn’t be in a small, cramped kitchen. I couldn’t say that in the same space where her piece of shit uncle abused her.

It was wrong.

So before I replaced my fingers with my tongue, I pulled out. Took a step back.

“Figured out what’s missing?”

“Nothing.” Dahlia’s voice was hoarse.

“Your funeral.” I joked. Bantering like we used to was easier. It wassafe.

Dahlia seemed to agree, even though I didn’t say a word. She grabbed a fistful of frosting and threw it on my black T-shirt. We laughed again. Things were supposed to be lighter between us after that.

Truth was, they weren’t. The need for her never stopped. It’d rested in the pit of my stomach every single day.

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