Better With You (Better Love 2) - Page 70

“I feel like we can do some fun stuff with silvers and golds, maybe a little pink and white. Maybe something with champagne. Something sparkly. Not really kitschy like Valentine’s Day, boyfriend/girlfriend Hallmark stuff. More like engagement proposals or weddings. Baby showers. Timeless love.”

“I like it. We could probably do something with cheesecake since that was part of our cookie recipe.”

“Oh, yeah, maybe.” She pulls a pen and a small notebook out of her bag, then starts writing notes. “How are you at decorating cake?”

“I’m actually pretty good,” I say, after taking a sip of my own drink. “I can do basic stuff like roses and cursive script. And I can manipulate fondant pretty good, too.”

“Nice. I’ve never messed with fondant, but the rest I’m pretty good at.”

A server comes and takes our food orders, and I tell him to charge it to our room before Bailey can argue. She tries anyway, once the server leaves, but I shut her up by telling her she can pay me back after we win.

We eat and talk, some brainstorming, some natural conversation. She tells me about her friends. How two of them recently got together after years of mutual pining. How she and Slipper Dick teamed up to make it happen. I tell her about baseball and my team, some stories about growing up in the city. It’s nice, and when it starts to snow, it’s perfect.

“Oh wow,” she whispers. “It’s so pretty.” I watch her put out her hand and catch a snowflake on her finger. It starts with light, delicate flakes, but within minutes, the snow comes down in clumps, clinging to our hair and clothes. We grab our stuff and wait in line for the elevators, and without thinking, I reach out and brush some snow out of Bailey’s hair, then push a strand behind her ear. She shivers.

“Your fingers are cold,” she whispers. I smile in response.

We ride to the room in comfortable silence.

“I’m going to take a quick shower to warm up,” she says, after discarding her jacket and kicking off her boots.

“Sure.” I don’t look at her as I take off my own coat. She grabs something from her bag, then darts into the bathroom. I hear the shower turn on a minute later.

While she’s in there, I grab some paper and keep myself busy. The door opens fifteen minutes later, steam billowing out behind her. She’s wearing shorts and an oversized Brand New concert tour shirt, her hair twisted up in a fluffy white towel. Her face is scrubbed clean, her cheeks tinged with pink, and something about her makes me want to swallow my tongue.

She’s so fucking pretty.

“It’s all yours,” she says, and I blink. What? “The shower, I mean.”

Oh right.

“Right,” I say, and move to the bathroom just to do something other than sit on my ass and ogle her. “I’ll be right out.”

The moment I cross the threshold, I’m knocked on my ass by her smell. Vanilla and fruity, and permeating the air with the steam, and I’m immediately hard. I strip and get in the shower, and it takes all of ten seconds before I crank the knob to cold.

This girl is fucking with my body and my head, and I need to get my shit under control. The best way to undo all the progress we’ve made is to walk out there with a massive boner. I snort out a laugh at the thought. I can only imagine how Bailey would react. She’d probably threaten to cut my dick off. Ha. She might even try to do it.

I finish soaping up, wait until my dick is fully deflated, then turn off the water and climb out. I pull a fresh towel from the shelf, dry off my body, then drop it and reach for my clothes.

The clothes I didn’t bring into the bathroom.

Shit.

She’s going to kill me.

I dry off my hair as best as I can, then wrap the towel around my waist. Have these towels always been this small? I check the rack to make sure I didn’t grab one of those small floor mat towels instead of a body towel. Hm. I check myself in the mirror one more time. Everything is covered, so maybe this towel isn’t that small? I just feel naked, is all.

Christ.

Okay.

With any luck, she’ll be asleep, and this won’t make things awkward.

I swing the door open quietly and step lightly into the main room, eyes trained on my suitcase, when Bailey turns from where she’s standing by the bed. We lock eyes, and for a second, we just stare at each other.

“Sorry,” I rasp. “I, uh, forgot my clothes. I’m just gonna—”

My words halt when I notice Bailey’s eyes trailing down my torso. I can feel them on my chest, and I flex my pecks on instinct. I watch her face as her gaze falls lower, and I know the instant they land on my dick. Her breaths quicken, she bites her lip, and I immediately sport a semi. I know she can tell, because her eyes widen, and I get even harder. When the head of my dick brushes on the fabric of the towel, I groan, and she gasps.

“Sundance,” I grind out, “I know I’m not your favorite person right now, but if you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna have to do something about it.”

“Like what,” she asks, eyes still on the growing bulge under my towel.

“Like throw you on the bed and make you come on my cock.”

Her eyes shoot to mine and she whimpers, then she slowly starts to walk toward me.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” she whispers.

“Nothing.”

“It’s just sex,” she says as she gets closer.

“Got it.”

“I still hate you.”

“You hate everyone.”

“I hate you most.”

“Fine,” I growl and grab her hips, pulling her into my erection. “Then fuck me like you hate me.”

I lift her up and she wraps her legs around me at the same time our mouths connect. God, the fucking mouth on this girl. She bites my lip and grinds herself on me, and I squeeze her ass.

“Fuck, wait,” she gasps out, then pulls back sharply. “Tell me the truth. Are you with Talia? And I don’t just mean she’s not your girlfriend. I mean, are you fucking her, are you together? I am not trying to break girl code and be a soap opera plot line.”

“I’m not with her. I’m not dating her. I’m not fucking her.” I meet Bailey’s eyes and say it again clearly. “I am not with Talia or anyone else.”

“Okay,” she says, then attacks my mouth once more. I drag my teeth down her jaw and over her earlobe, then suck on the soft flesh of her neck.

“I’m gonna make you pay for taking this pussy away from me,” I say against her shoulder before I bite her.

Tags: Brit Benson Better Love Romance
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