The Dating Game (Alphalicious Billionaires 5)
On the way to the kitchen, Alex’s head was such a mess that he could barely concentrate. His chest was doing a funny compressing thing, like an elephant had just crashed into the shitty little apartment and sat right on top of him because the bastard thought it was funny. The bet. Just concentrate on the bet. He tried to coach himself as he opened the fridge and took out the whipped cream, the kind in the can. He palmed it and shook it back and forth the whole way to the living room.
“You know, I’m really probably good. I’m almost half done. Probably don’t need any…”
Muffy’s voice trailed off as he uncapped the whipped cream, completely ignoring her protests, because he wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to deal with her and deal with himself and what she did to him. He was damn well going to fill her cup with whipped cream and fill his and retreat back to the kitchen where he could possibly talk his boner down and convince himself that he was a normal person who shouldn’t be having urges to rip off Muffy’s clothes and have crazy animal sex with her in a grimy apartment and no- that had nothing to do with a damn bet.
It wasn’t safe to do that shit. It wasn’t safe to have crazy animal sex or admire her or… or whatever his heart was doing, pumping and kicking and squeezing like he was actually going into cardiac arrest. None of that was safe. He’d been there before. With other women. Opened himself up and then they’d slashed him to pieces and left him bleeding out.
He was supposed to be done with all of that.
Over all of it.
Not shaking the damn whipped cream and uncapping it and staring into Muffy’s beautiful eyes the whole time, staring at her perfect bow lips, sporting a hard-on that was going to rip right out of his jeans at any second.
BLAM.
Muffy let out a startled scream as the whipped cream exploded. All that shaking wasn’t exactly the best thing for it and the can had pressurized to the point of a damn grenade. It shot off, spraying all over her face, hitting her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her lips, her chin.
She sat stunned, mouth gaping open.
Alex froze, the offending weapon still in his hand.
He stared at Muffy. She stared back.
Slowly, an action that was so slow motion it made his balls ache, her tongue swept out of her mouth and licked her lips. She blinked and a glob of whipped cream fell off her forehead right into her lap.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “You’re right. This is really good.”
He paused, his hand still on the can, which was likely empty. His dick threatened to eviscerate his jeans. He was pretty damn sure that Muffy had no idea what the image of her covered in whipped cream was doing to him. Or what her little pink tongue did.
Or how her next words slayed him.
She gazed pointedly at him and her tongue licked out again. “It would seriously be a shame to waste this.”
He stared at her harder, his balls clenched tight as though she’d just reached out and gripped them in an unmerciful fist. They really liked the idea of licking off all that coconut whipped cream. They really, really liked that idea.
She blinked. Another glob melted off her face.
She’s so beautiful it freaking hurt to look at her. It hit Alex straight in the tarnished soul. Muffy was brave. She was smart. She was nice. Gracious. She was the whole package and he already knew that when he had to break up with her after Jay was satisfied that he’d met the parameters of the bet, it was going to hurt like hell.
The bet. It’s just for the bet.
It was his last thought before his brain checked out, the can fell from his wooden fingers, and the party in his pants kicked it up to a blinding notch. He gripped Muffy’s arms and licked her pouty, pink coconut covered lips. And even though he wasn’t the one coated in fluffy dessert topping, she licked him back.
CHAPTER 13
Muffy
Alex was kissing her. No, he wasn’t just kissing her. He was devouring her like he was starved, and she was going to be his first and last meal. She could blame it on the whipped cream. Maybe he really liked it. Liked it enough to lick it off her lips, her cheeks, her jawline, her forehead, all before sweeping back down to her lips in a mash of coconut bliss. Or maybe he actually liked kissing her enough to keep doing it.
It was a crazy thought, given that she’d been told in the past that she was a terrible kisser. Her high school boyfriend actually told her that she should give up trying. Don’t bother, he’d told her, because she’d never be good enough to actually please anyone. Okay, so that might have been a little payback because she refused to fondle his crotch at the same time.