Shine With Me (With Me in Seattle 15.5)

“Just for that, I’m going to eat three cupcakes.”

“That’s fine. I’ll have you run an extra mile tomorrow.”

She bites into the cake and moans in happiness. “Oh my God. It’s worth the extra mile. What do you put in these? Crack?”

“Something like that,” Nic replies and starts clearing the table.

“I’ll help,” Rina offers, but Nic shoos her back into her seat.

“Matt and I can clean up. I’m just moving some of these dishes into the kitchen. Enjoy your sugar binge.”

“Oh, I am,” Rina assures her.

“I’m going to send some home with you, too.”

“I have until midnight to gorge on these,” Rina says. I don’t have the heart to tell her she’ll make herself sick. “Yay me!”* * * *“Do you want to come in?” Rina asks when I pull into her driveway. “Nic sent home two more cupcakes. I can’t eat all of this myself.”

I won’t have any of that sugar, but I’ll be damned if I’ll resist the invitation to spend more time with her. I follow her into the house. Rina flips lights on as we walk through the home to the kitchen.

She sets her little box of cupcakes on the kitchen counter and reaches into a cabinet for a plate.

Her blond hair is down tonight, falling in loose waves to the middle of her back. She always wears it up when we work together, so seeing it down is a treat. She’s wearing a light layer of makeup, and she’s dressed in a pretty red sweater and blue jeans.

I could eat her alive.

Rina sets a cupcake on a plate and licks frosting off her thumb as she passes it over to me, then picks up the other one, peels down the paper, and takes a big bite.

“This has to last me a week,” she says around a mouthful of food. She’s halfway into her treat when she looks up and sees that I haven’t touched the one in front of me, but I’m watching her in fascination. “You’re not going to eat that?”

“No.”

She stuffs the rest into her mouth and shakes her head. “It’s a shame it’ll go to waste. I can’t eat any more without putting myself in sugar shock, and it won’t last for another week.”

As she walks around the island to retrieve the plate, her arm brushes mine as she reaches past me. I instinctively take her hand, tug, and press her against me from knees to chest.

The pupils of her gorgeous blue eyes dilate as her gaze whips to mine before moving down to my lips, which tingle under her scrutiny.

“I’ve wanted to do this all damn week.” My lips descend on hers, light at first, just to get a taste. But when her sweet little tongue brushes against my lower lip, I’m lost, caught up in the smell, the taste, the feel of her pressed against me so perfectly, it’s as if she was made for me.

My fingers dive into her soft, thick hair, and I hold on as I kiss her senseless. Her hands glide from my shoulders, moving down my sides to fist in my shirt.

I want to boost her up onto the island and fuck her until neither of us remembers our names.

But we’re not ready for that. Hell, I’m not sure we’re ready for this.

But I can’t keep my hands off her. And I’m done trying.

She moans long and low in her throat. I come up for air long enough to nibble my way to the corner of her mouth. I kiss the dimple in her cheek and then move down to her jawline.

“You’re the only sweet thing I want to taste,” I whisper against her earlobe. “Jesus, you’d tempt a saint, Rina.”

She leans her forehead against my chest, and we both work to catch our breath. When she looks up at me again, she’s smiling.

“Did we just fuck everything up?” I ask.

“Not for me,” she says. “For the record, I’ve wanted you to do that all week. I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels the chemistry.”

“You’re not the only one,” I confirm. “It’s almost a visible thing between us. When I stretch you out in the gym, I have very unprofessional thoughts, and that’s not like me.”

She giggles and hooks a piece of her hair behind her ear. “It’s not like me, either.”

I lean in for one more kiss, though instead of the soft, gentle peck I intended, it turns into another inferno, leaving us both panting and glassy-eyed.

“Whoa.” I swallow hard.

“Yeah.” She blinks slowly. “Whoa.”

I grip her shoulders and set her back from me, then drop my hands, feeling immediately cold at the loss of connection.

“I should go,” I say, stepping away. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“What time?”

“Six. I’ll have bikes with me. We’re going to ride along the waterfront.”

“It’ll be cold,” she reminds me.