Page 56 of Cream and Punishment
He pressed his lips together, hesitating as he held the passenger door of his car open for me. “Yeah, it’s, uh” —he tapped next to his own eye— “it’s right there, I think.”
Oh, crab chops, I really had something on my face? A fleck of mascara, maybe? That’s what I got for fibbing. Karma was going to get a speeding ticket if it kept up this pace.
I swiped across my cheek and temple. “Did I get it?”
He shook his head. “It’s on your cheek now.”
“Aw,falafel,” I muttered, swiping madly at my face. “Now?”
“Nope.” He shook his head and chuckled. He reached out, his thumb hovering an inch away from my cheek until heat crackled in the space between our skin. He swallowed visibly, entrancing me with the motion. “May I?”
My voice was barely more than a whisper. “Please.”
His thumb brushed against my cheek, deliciously slow and intentional. Thorough, and thoroughly intoxicating as embers swept over my skin, threatening to catch on my tenuous self-control and set it ablaze.
My eyes fluttered closed at his touch. I couldn’t stop it even if I’d tried, and I didn’t want to. I didn’t open them again until his thumb lingered by my temple, undoubtedly feeling my pulse galloping like a thoroughbred.
Our gazes locked with the intensity of tectonic plates shifting into place. The ensuing earthquake rocked through me until the tips of my fingers trembled and my breathing became shallow.
For one delusional second, we felt inevitable. A force of nature and written in the stars.
Sunshine.
And chaos.
Then, with a sharp inhale, he pulled back until only the aftershocks remained in his wake.
“Got it,” he murmured, his voice tantalizing in its huskiness. He cleared his throat and stepped out of the way so I could get in the car easier. “Shall we go?”
I nodded vigorously, as much to clear my head of the haziness that fogged my thoughts the second he touched me as to show my agreement. “Where are we going, exactly? Because I brought reinforcements just in case.”
Once I slid in the seat, I pulled a quart-sized baggie of cookies out of my purse. Since my stress-baking had left me with about four and a half dozen, the more I could pawn off on him, the better. Out of the goodness of my heart, of course.
He let out a low whistle, and I could’ve sworn he stood as far as he physically could from me while he closed my door.
“You don’t mess around when it comes to dessert, do you?” he asked once he’d made it around to the driver’s seat.
“If you meet any baker whodoes, don’t trust their food.”
He laughed, the twinkle returning to his eyes. “Good point.”
“I make some of those occasionally.” I buckled my seatbelt and looked at him expectantly as he started up the engine. “So where are we going?”
His smile turned mischievous, sending phantom tremors across my cheek from the sheer memory of his touch. “You, my friend, are about to have your life changed for the better.”
twenty
Inhindsight,IthinkI’d be the easiest person to kidnap.Ever. Because all Max had to do was offer a cryptic non-answer and look at me with those beautiful brown eyes of his, and I’d happily ride along anywhere, insane driving and all. Straight to Mount Doom? Don’t mind if I do. A lecture on the evils of carbs and simple sugars? Great, I’ve got cookies as a snack. A pit full of snakes?
Okay, I might actually have a problem with that one.
But I’dconsiderit. Almost. Which was a miracle in and of itself.
Thankfully, he didn’t bring me to any of those, but a quaint brick restaurant on the corner of a busy street I’d never paid attention to before.
“Dominican food?” I asked, motioning toward the sign under the restaurant’s name.
Max grinned, and I swore birds started singing. “The best food in the world.”
