Page 34 of Baby I'm Yours

“Yes, please, Joey,” I say. “And whatever my friend would like.”

“What’s the usual?” Elaina asks as she studies the menu board, nibbling at her bottom lip as she considers her options. “Everything sounds so good!”

“I do the lilikoi and lime with fresh mint and a scoop of vanilla ice cream at the center.”

Her eyes go wide. “Damn, that sounds good. How would you feel about adding a touch of cherry into that mix, Joey?”

“I’d feel great about that,” he booms, his tanned face breaking into an even wider grin. “You’ve got good taste, woman.” He winks as he adds, “So what are you doing with this maniac?”

She laughs as she loops her arm through mine. “I haven’t decided what I’m doing with him yet, but you have the maniacpart right.” She grins up at me as she adds, “There’s a stone-cold weirdo under this deceptively business bro exterior.”

I grunt noncommittally and mutter, “Takes one to know one, maniac.”

Elaina laughs and Joey joins in. He also gives us each a snow cap free of charge, seemingly pleased to see me not ordering solo for once.

A few minutes later, we’re settled at a small table near one of the potted palms that dot the food court, and I’m watching Elaina take her first bite of proper shave ice.

Her lashes flutter as the flavors hit her tongue.

“Oh my God,” she moans, the sound sending heat straight to my dick. “This is amazing. The ice is so fluffy. Is that the right word? And the passionfruit is perfect with the cherry and lime, and that cream on top…” She takes another bite, humming with pleasure. “Damn, I’m a fan. Big fan.” She shivers. “Though it would be nicer if it were a little less frigid in here. Why do they keep the air-conditioning set so low in office buildings? Are they trying to make everyone’s nipples hard?”

My gaze drops to her chest of its own accord, where her nipples are indeed straining through the thin cotton, the sight enough to make me thicker.

“I knew you couldn’t help yourself,” she murmurs, her tone pure temptation. “I knew you’d look.”

“I’m a man, not a superhero, Elaina,” I say, making her laugh. I drag my attention back to my shave ice. “Let’s go. We’re nearly back to my building. We can eat on the pool deck. It’s nice and warm up there.”

“Sounds good,” she says, rising from her chair.

Just five minutes later we’re stepping out onto the rooftop, where residents can enjoy the pool during the summer and barbeque stations, firepits, and an abundance of posh outdoor seating year-round.

“This is swanky, too,” she says, gazing around the abandoned expanse. “Why is it deserted?”

“Well, it’s nearly a hundred degrees outside,” I say dryly.

She shoots me a narrow look before rolling her eyes. “Yes, I know. But there’s a pool for staying cool, smartass. A very nice-looking pool.”

“The pool is usually empty until later in the afternoon, when some of the mothers bring their kids up after school or camp,” I explain. “Adult-only hours start at four, but you won’t see many people out until later. Most of the residents here work traditional hours.”

Elaina wanders toward the edge of the brick wall surrounding the large patio, gazing out over the park. “Well, it’s certainly gorgeous up here. I won’t mind being the only one lounging by the pool while you’re at work during the week.” She glances my way as she slips another bite of shave ice between her lips, swallowing before she adds in a sultry voice, “Though I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to play hooky and lounge with me. We could rub sunscreen on each other as foreplay.”

“That could be arranged,” I murmur, watching as a single bead of sweat slips down her elegant neck beneath her ponytail. The carnal part of me wants to lick it away before lifting her skirt and taking her against the brick wall.

But that would be insane.

And there are cameras up here, I remind the feral part of myself that insists it doesn’t care about sanity. All it cares about is getting back inside this woman as soon as possible.

She turns, stepping so close that I can see the flecks of gold in her eyes, smell the lingering sweetness of passionfruit and cherry on her breath.

“Thank you for today,” she whispers. “I enjoyed seeing your secret places.”

“They’re your secret places now, too,” I say, the roughness in my voice giving my thoughts away.

Her gaze darkens in recognition. “What are you thinking about, Mr. Mendelssohn? Decided you might want to read a sexy book together, after all?”

“Something like that,” I say, letting my hunger take control. I tip my nearly empty cup, letting a drop of the melted ice fall onto her collarbone.

She sucks in a breath.

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