Wild Kisses (Wildwood 2)

“How is it that you happen to be on hand to witness every asinine thing I do?” she asked.

His grin reappeared. Those ridiculously stunning, black-lashed blue eyes did the sparkle-and-dance routine that made Avery’s gut ache. “Just lucky, I guess.”

Back away from the hottie.

She took one last look down at his hands wrapped around hers and reminded herself that not only was she his employer, and not only was she newly divorced, but she was also in no emotional shape to take on a man in her life right now. Especially not Mr. Six-Foot-Three Rock-Hard Babe Magnet. Trace Hutton was ten times too much man for her, even on her sexiest, most confident day.

“How are they feeling?” he asked.

Amazing. So good she wanted him to never let go. Which was exactly what finally made her pull her hand from his and step back.

“I’ll be okay. What about you? That rack was just as hot as the pans.”

“My hands are leather at this point.” He shut off the sink, picked up a towel to dry his hands, and leaned his hip against the counter. “Sure smells good in here. Did you figure out what was going wrong with your cinnamon rolls?”

“Oh, yes.” She clapped her hands around the towel, excited to share her breakthrough with him. “Let me frost one for you. Wait until you taste this. You’re going to die.”

He chuckled and crossed his arms. “I have something for you, too. Though nothing that exciting. I doubt you’ll die.”

She dug out a spatula of fresh icing and spread it over the top of a warm roll.

“What did you do to fix this little demon?” he asked. “He’s been costing you way too much sleep. You know you’re the only person who can taste all these little changes you fuss over, right?”

She pulled a plate from the cabinet and carefully set her creation in the center. Then with a flourish, she presented it to him with a devilish smile. “For my official taste-tester. You decide.”

His eyes did that twinkling thing again, and Avery had to look away. “Go on. Eat. They’re better warm.”

He lifted the roll. “Whoa,” he said, testing the weight. “This guy is chunky. What did you put in here?”

“I’ll tell you after you taste.”

He lifted it to his mouth and bit down. Avery watched his every move, his every expression, relishing the excuse to get such an intimate look without exposing her overwhelming attraction.

The soft dough gave easily beneath his teeth. The creamy frosting gathered on his full lips. Avery licked her own, imagining what it would be like to suck that frosting away. Then spiral her tongue with his, the frosting melting in the heat of their mouths.

“Oh my God . . .” His eyes, wide with a little shock and a little awe, fixed on hers. “What in the hell did you do? This is amazing.”

Relief eased her shoulders, and her smile grew. “I used a brioche dough,” she said, watching him lick the icing from his lips as he unwound a curl of the roll to peek inside. “Let them rise twice as long, which is why they’re spiral towers. And I filled them with a marzipan streusel. Then I tripled the vanilla in the icing.”

He repositioned the roll and bit again, taking half the gigantic mass. Avery knew the moment all the flavors kicked in and blended. A spark of surprise lit his eyes before all the tension in his face transitioned into euphoria. He groaned. His eyes fell closed. Head tipped back.

The sight shot sparks along every inch of Avery’s skin and pounded heat between her legs. A split-second image of him doing the same as Avery took his cock into her mouth flushed her body with fire. The mere idea that she could pleasure a man who had the sexiest women lusting after him was ludicrous, but she let herself enjoy the fantasy anyway.

“Oh God, Avery . . .” he said around a mouthful of dough.

The pleasure dripping from his voice pushed another surge of heat through her veins. And she loved the way he said her name, as if there were no e. “Avry” sliding off his tongue in that sexy baritone made all sorts of naughty things flash through her mind.

“You have seriously outdone yourself here.”

She did her best to shake off the haze of lust and gave him an I-told-you-so smile. “So, you mean, even you can tell the difference?”

“This is no ordinary ‘different.’ This is an oh-hell-yeah difference.”

Pride and excitement fizzed inside her. Avery’s stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. And as Trace continued to devour the roll with moans of pleasure, Avery reached out and took hold of an edge, pulling it from the bun. The melted icing dripped over her fingers.

Trace’s hand encompassed her wrist, his blue eyes sharp and bright. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m hungry.” But her attention was on the tingles sliding up her arm from his touch. “Didn’t you hear my stomach?”