"I… Uh…" My breath hitches in my throat. I don't want to bake a cake. I want to bend over and demand he fuck me.
He moves behind me. Pulls my ass against his crotch.
He's hard.
Fuck, I want that. I want him. I want it more than I've wanted anything in a long, long time.
"It's driving me fucking crazy too." He releases my dress and takes a half step backward.
I nod. Yes. Crazy is a good way to put it. I mean, really, we shouldn't use the word crazy casually. Mental illness is no laughing matter…
But he is driving me fucking crazy.
"You're good at this." I force my attention to the sugar as I scoop and pour it into the mixing bowl.
"Thanks."
I want to be good at it. At this master level of teasing.
I focus on our task. Pretend I'm here to bake and not to come in his bed.
"You want to do the honors?" I point to the baking soda and the teaspoon. "Since we're learning together?"
"Teamwork. I like it." He scoops the proper amount of baking soda into the mixing bowl. Then the cocoa powder.
I measure oil.
He measures vanilla.
I crack three eggs.
He adds the coffee.
"That's everything." I stir.
"We need to taste it."
Yes. I need to taste him. His lips, his neck, his chest, his cock. I need him in my mouth. I need to drive him fucking crazy too.
He reaches for the bowl. Picks up the spoon and brings it to my lips.
I stare into his eyes as I lick off the batter.
He pulls it away. Brings it to his lips. Does the same.
But he does it better. There's something fierce in his eyes. Something that promises he's going to lick me a hell of a lot more thoroughly.
> He drops the spoon in the bowl.
Brings his thumb to my lip. Wipes a drop of batter from my lips and brings it to his mouth.
I… Uh…
"We should get this in the oven." So it's no longer a distraction. So there's no reason why I can't tear his clothes off. So I can give up on this whole focus on baking thing.
He nods. Opens a high cabinet and pulls a baking tray from it. "I didn't know I had this until today."
"You don't cook?"