Page 44 of One Week Wingman

Not in the fridge, no.

Friend. He’s my friend.

“I shouldn’t eat anything else,” I say, finally closing the door. “We must have consumed the entire U.S. supply of tortilla chips tonight.”

I turn. That’s my first mistake. He’s leaning against the countertop, his pajama shirt unbuttoned, and those grey sweatpants clinging to his legs again.

Remind me to burn those sweatpants. After I strip them off him…

Down, girl!

I blindly grab a box of cider donuts from our trip, and stuff one into my mouth. Sebastian grins. “Maybe you should have intercepted Europe’s supply, too.”

It takes me a moment to follow. “I have a big appetite,” I blurt.

His smile grows wider. “I bet you do.”

My stomach tightens with lust, and I try to think of something to say that isn’t ‘you and me, on the dining table, right now.’

“Give me a taste, then,” Seb says, and I swear, I almost lunge for him. Then I realize, he’s talking about the donuts.

I offer him the box. He strolls closer, but instead of taking one, he leans in, and takes a bite from the one in my hand. “Mmm,” he says, in a low, throaty kind of growl. “Delicious.”

Everything in me clenches.Dear Lord, is he doing this on purpose?

“Do you want more?” I find myself asking, my voice coming out breathy.

He holds my gaze, and nods.

This time, I reach up, and push the chunk of crumbly donut between his lips, feeding him.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s not so much ‘playing with fire’ as ‘dancing around a kerosene-soaked room with a lit match in my hand,’ but I can’t stop. I can’t look away. I can’t evenbreatheas my fingertips brush his mouth, and Seb’s tongue slips out to lick crumbs from my thumb.

Oh. My. God.

I can’t help the soft moan that falls from my mouth at the damp caress.

Seb’s gaze darkens. He’s staring at me hungrily now, his eyes dark in the dim shadows of the kitchen. Without a word, he steps forward, gently nudging me back against the refrigerator door.

I shiver, going willingly. His body is pressed against me, and I’m weak with desire. My head falls back. My lips part, wanting,inviting--

“Roxy?”

I jump, letting out a startled yelp as my mom flips on the light, suddenly bathing the kitchen in a bright glow. “Oh, it’s just you two,” she says, looking relieved. “I heard a noise and I thought we were being robbed!”

She’s dressed in a nightgown, gripping a hairdryer like an offensive weapon.

“And you were going to blow them away?” Sebastian quips.

She laughs. “Phil’s still out like a light. That man could sleep through an earthquake. But what are you doing up so late?”

“Just having a snack!” I blurt, my voice all high-pitched.

A delicious, tasty, Seb-shaped snack.

“But we should get to bed,” Seb says smoothly, placing a hand on the small of my back. “Goodnight, Lorna.”

“Night,” my mom calls after us, as Seb steers me out, and up the stairs.

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