Candy Boys (Hot Candy 1)

“You do?”

I take a moment to pinch myself and ow, that’ll leave a bruise.

“Uh huh.” He steps even closer, and I’m wrapped up in his boy scent, his musk overlayed with a light aftershave of pine and citrus.

Yummy.

“I like you, too,” I whisper, wondering when the lights will come back on and someone will yell, “Cut! It’s a wrap!”

“Well, ride me into the sunset,” Joel mutters, his grin tipping up on one side, his dimple winking at me.

“I so totally would.”

Another flash of darkness goes through his gaze. His hand is still on my face, and his thumb is stroking my cheekbone, back and forth, back and forth.

“What are you doing to me?” His voice has dropped more, so deep I feel it vibrate under my skin. “I love this shirt you have on today.”

Low-cut shirt, mini skirt, boots. The works. Brylee would be so proud. My chest flushes when his eyes dip low.

“Thanks.”

“Did you wear these for me?”

“It’s for VIV.”

He looks up from my chest, dark brows drawing together. “VIV?”

“Very Important Visitors.”

“Am I very important?”

I gulp. “Anyone who brings me coffee is important.”

“Even when it burns you?”

“It’s not fun if it doesn’t burn a little,” I whisper back.

He makes a sound deep in his throat, like a strangled groan. “Fuck, you’re driving me mad. One moment you’re funny, the next hot. The hottest bookseller I’ve ever met.”

Met a lot of booksellers? I want to ask, but he’s walking me backward toward the shelves. He puts down my coffee on the counter, then we’re ensconced between two tall shelves, and he’s pressing me against the Children Books section.

“I want to kiss you,” he says, his arms bracketing my body, gripping the shelves on either side of me, trapping me.

“Please do,” I start to say when his lips crush on mine, warm and firm and tasting like spice and coffee, and I moan, unable to stop myself.

So good. So much better than I ever imagined, and I have a vibrant, well-trained imagination. The way his mouth moves over mine is decadent, slow, sexy. By the time his tongue parts my lips, I’m running my hands up and down his body and sucking on his mouth like an alcoholic on his last bottle.

Then my hands find his ass and holy mother of God, this boy is unreal. That ass is unreal. His solid, round buns fill my hands, and they flex as his hips thrust against me.

Letting me feel a very real, very solid and big hard-on.

I make a small noise against his mouth—or in his mouth, probably, because by now my tongue is halfway down his throat—and he draws slightly back, his eyes dazed.

“Oh shit.” His voice is thick and raspy. “I didn’t mean to tongue-fuck you here.”

“But elsewhere?” I ask hopefully.

“Fuck, yeah.” I like the way he says it so solemnly, like an oath.