Finding Him (Covet 2)

She eyed me up and down; red stained her cheeks. “Yeah, there is absolutely nothing cheesy about you.”

The compliment would sustain me for hours.

Chapter Thirty

KEATON

I should have gone home.

The only problem? I didn’t want to.

Something about being in his apartment, locked away from the world, felt eerily like being at the cabin. It was just us.

Well, us and the laptop, which seemed to be the only tether or reason for us to even be in the same building.

The pizza sustained me in a way that only good carbs and cheese could, and I found myself relaxing more than I ever had in my entire life.

It wasn’t the rosé.

For some reason it tasted funny, so I opted for water and ate three pieces of pizza and side-eyed the donuts.

“Saw that.” Julian smirked at me. “I’m almost jealous of all the looks you keep shooting that box, you’re about to incinerate the cardboard.”

I slugged him in the shoulder with a laugh. “Chocolate sounds good!”

“Chocolate always sounds good.” He gave me a look I couldn’t decipher, then lazily stood and made his way over to the cardboard box. There were plenty left, but I wanted the chocolate one. He picked it up and held it out to me. “Is this the one you want?”

I could taste the freaking thing on my tongue, the chocolate frosting, the soft dough. Big O Donuts were legendary, and I was about to make that one my bitch.

I bit down on my lower lip and nodded excitedly as the sound of Riverdale filled the living room.

I would never get tired of the way Julian stared at me, or the sparkle in his eyes when he was about to do something that would make me grab something sharp.

He held out the donut until it was about an inch from my face, until my mouth was watering with excitement, and the bastard jerked it back and shoved half of it into his mouth with a moan.

“JULIAN TENNYSON!”

“Sooo good!” His cheeks were puffed out with half the friggin’ donut, and I just snapped. Clearly, I was feeling better if I was ready to jump on his back, which is exactly what I did.

“Give it to me!” I pounded his back with my fists while he made a run for it to the bathroom. “Give me the donut!”

He ran into the shower with me on his back and put his hand on the knob. “Don’t make me turn the water on.”

“Don’t make me claw your eyes out!”

He burst out laughing. “Fine, fine, you can have the other half.”

“OH! I want that half too.” I smacked him harder. “Cough it up!”

“I’m not regurgitating donut!” He slowly twisted the knob. “You’ll have to pry it from my—”

I crashed my mouth against his in a moment of pure insanity brought on by pizza, two sips of rosé, and emotional trauma.

At least that was what I told myself.

And he really did taste like chocolate donut, the best kind, with sugar on his lips and frosting on his tongue.

I could feast on that sort of taste, on this sort of man.

He kissed me back. All of the donut was obviously already out of his mouth, leaving only bits of sugar behind, so why was I still kissing him?

Because it was him.

Because he made me laugh.

Because he made me feel safe and alive.

I kissed Julian because I was falling way too quickly for a man who was totally wrong for me, and I kept kissing him because once I’d had a taste, I was completely lost.

Slowly, I slid down his side until I was facing him in the shower. He was still holding the donut high over our heads. Then eventually it made its way down until it was pressed against my mouth.

He leaned in and whispered, “Bite.”

My breath hitched as I took a huge bite, chewed, and then smiled when he dipped his finger in the frosting and smudged it across my lower lip.

His teeth tugged the soft flesh, making me moan out loud, and then his tongue was sliding across and sucking as though my mouth was made of sugar and he had to get every last bit.

He gave me another bite and did the same thing with the frosting, and with each lick my body lost more and more control until I was shaking with the need for more, just more of him, more of us. Heat exploded between us when I ate the last bite, his hands flew to my hair as he jerked me against his hard body. And every single part of him was like colliding with muscle and masculine aggression.

We broke apart, chests heaving.

“Sorry,” he said between breaths. “I think I’m addicted to you.”

“Me or the donut?”

His eyes locked on mine. “The way you taste would haunt me for life, the way you feel is so right that I can’t stop touching you—fuck the donuts, Keaton, I just like kissing you.”