Page 24 of Flirting with the Stranger

Finally, I break the silence. “You didn’t find it inappropriate that he was flirting with you?”

She halts in her tracks. “We’re doing this again? He wasn’t flirting. He was being friendly.”

“Friendly?” I scoff. “He was borderline stalking you. Constantly seeking you out. Touching you at every possible moment.”

“You know what? Maybe he was flirting.” Her tone is sharp. “Why can’t a guy flirt with me? Is something wrong with me that I’m unflirtable?” She throws her hands in the air.

My teeth grind as I get into her face. “It’s because he was doing it right in front of me.”

“I’m not yours to claim, so I don’t see what the problem is! Plus, you already told me you don’t want me. So, what? No one else can have me either?” She drops a foot back, separating herself from me.

My face falls and I blow out a breath. “I never said I didn’t want you.”

“After the kiss, you said it was a mistake.” She wraps her arms around herself.

I turn and rest my palms on the worktable. “I kissed you during a vulnerable moment. That was the mistake. If I had it my way, I would kiss you and never stop kissing you.”

“He just wanted to tell me how much he enjoyed my cupcakes, especially the frosting.”

At the sound of her voice, I turn to face her. My nostrils flare thinking of Lucas near her, telling her how much he likes her baked goods. And she’s right, she’s not mine. Not yet anyway.

“What’s that look for?”

The thought of her with someone else drives me mad. And fuck if I know why, but I don’t like it. So, for the time being, I’ll kiss the hell out of her until she forgets any other man exists. I step into her personal space again, she cranes her neck up to meet my eyes. “Because I want to be the only one to lick your frosting.” The words are a whisper off my lips.

The air between us crackles with electricity. Her eyes shift back and forth, searching mine. Her voice is low when she says, “Why do I have a feeling frosting no longer means…frosting.”

“Because it doesn’t.” I inch my lips closer to hers.

“Then what does it mean?”

“Exactly that. I’m going to lick your frosting.”

TWELVE

CUPCAKE VIXEN

Hollyn

Without a second thought, his lips crash to mine. Demanding and frantic. My hands cup his cheeks and I hold tight. I need him to keep me afloat, so I don’t drown in a sea of heat and passion. Because it would be so easy to get lost in him. Lost in this.

He whirls us around and pushes until my lower back hits the stainless steel table edge. A small whimper escapes me.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he mumbles against my lips.

“It’s okay. I fully expect you to make it up to me.”

“I can manage that.” He kisses me again.

Van grips my waist and lifts until my butt contacts the top of the cool metal. He wedges himself between my spread legs while never breaking our kiss. His hard cock presses against the apex of my thighs and I fight the urge to rub against him like a cat in heat. Instead, I tug him closer and let him do the rubbing.

Not waiting a second longer, Van rips at the buttons of my chef’s coat until the sides fall open, exposing my white, almost see through camisole and light pink bra. Van’s gaze wanders down my chest, admiring every inch of me before coming back up to meet my eyes.

“Shit. This is what you’ve been wearing under this the entire time?”

“It gets hot, so I need to wear as little as possible underneath.” My breathing quickens from his heated stare.

“I’m going to get hard every time I see you in your chef’s coat because I’ll know this is what you’re wearing underneath.” His hands wrap around my waist under my coat. The light brush of his fingertips sends goosebumps sprouting across my body.

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