“Mmm. You like that. You want it rough?”

I push his head down to silence him. I’m shaking, my thighs convulsing against his cheeks as he ravages me like it’s his first time tasting me. Of course, he always goes at me like this, like he’ll never get enough of me. He alternates between my clit and my pussy, stroking and sucking until he begins to fuck me with his tongue. I can’t take it. I’m begging him to stop, to keep going, to do whatever the hell he wants. I’m a blubbering idiot right now because that’s what his mouth does to me; it wipes all coherent thoughts from my head. And when I feel his finger dip into me briefly before trailing my wetness down to my backside, I lose my mind completely.

“Yes. Oh, God, please. Right there. Right fucking there.”

He buries his face between my legs, humming against me while he presses his finger against my ass. This move of his, one I never thought I’d be into until he was the man doing it, this move makes me see fucking stars when I’m coming. He doesn’t do it all the time, but when he does surprise me with this stellar addition to his orgasm-taking routine, my body vibrates for hours afterwards.

“Goddamn, you’re beautiful when you come. Did that feel as good as it looked?”

“Hmm,” I reply, unable to form a proper response as I slowly come down. My lifeless body hangs limp on the bed and over his shoulders as he plants gentle kisses to the inside of my thigh. I look down the length of my body and catch his smile. “Anytime you want to be late for work to do that, please, go for it.”

He stands, licking his lips and holding his hands out to me. “I need to get going. Thanks for my fix.” He pulls me to my feet, the towel covering me falling to the floor.

“You stole my line,” I say against his mouth as he kisses me sweetly. “You good? No hand or mouth action required?”

He reaches down and adjusts himself in his khakis with a wince. “Actually, I think I need some recovery time after last night. Ask me again in eight hours.”

I giggle as I bend over and grab my towel, securing it underneath my arms. “Don’t forget, I have my fitting tonight so I won’t be home until late.”

He eyes me up suspiciously. “Do you really think you need to remind me about anything involving you?” Grabbing the back of my neck, he pulls me into him and plants a kiss to my forehead. “Bye, love.” He releases me, turning and walking toward the door.

I enjoy my spectacular view, nodding in appreciation. The man’s ass is a thing of wonder. Muscle upon muscle; it’s insane, even through his pants. I don’t know what exercises he does to work that perfectly-sculpted entity, but it’s working.

I’m brought out of my fantasy when he opens the door. Lifting my gaze, I see he’s caught me in my obsessive gawking. I’m not ashamed, not in the slightest. I smile the biggest, cheesiest grin I can muster and he laughs. “Bye, handsome. Five days.”

He shakes his head, turning back around. I don’t miss the smile on his face as he disappears behind the door, my words no doubt playing on loop in his mind.

Because they definitely are in mine.

Five days.

17

After stepping into some jeans and one of my favorite tees I left behind, I slip into my ballet flats and head back into my bathroom. I yawn as I pull my hair up into a messy bun, tugging a few stray pieces out and tucking them behind my ears. After the all-nighter marathon sex, my five-mile run, and the orgasm that just rocked my body, I’m suddenly feeling ready for a nap instead of the day that’s ahead of me. I apply the usual minimal makeup I wear daily and walk back into my living space, grabbing my phone off my bed. It’s almost time for the shop to open and I have a massive amount of baking to do, considering I didn’t get any done this weekend. And if I don’t get started on it now, we’re sure to run out of treats by lunch time.

As I pull out my mixer and set it on my worktop, the doorbell dings and seconds later, Joey comes rushing into the back.

“Extra-large, double shot of caramel for my favorite cupcake,” he sings, depositing my piping-hot cup of coffee on the wood and pulling up a stool to watch me. He’s dressed in one of his favorite baby-blue polo shirts that brings out the color in his eyes, his blond hair still damp from his shower.

“Oh, man, I seriously love you.” I grab it and immediately take a sip, moaning as the hot liquid coats my throat. “Brooke’s supposed to be here any minute and I’ve got a shit-load of baking to do, so unfortunately, you’re going to be in charge of showing her the ropes.”

He keeps all grumbles to himself, taking a sip of his coffee. “Whatever. As long as she doesn’t try to grope me, I’m sure I can tolerate her for eight hours.”

The doorbell dings and we both glance up, seeing Juls emerge in the doorway. She’s chicly dressed in a tight, black dress with sky-high heels, her hair wrapped in an elegant twist. “Morning, lovies.” She glances around the kitchen and her smile disappears. “Where the hell is Brooke?” Joey and I both shrug as I open my bags of flour, pouring a generous amount into my mixing bowl.  “Oh, for Christ’s sake. I’m going to kill her.” She pulls her phone out of her purse and stalks out into the main bakery, leaving Joey and me alone with our amused expressions. A flustered Julianna Thomas is not something we’re used to seeing.

“Ten bucks says she’s late,” Joey says confidently.

I cock my head and turn on my mixer, wiping my brow with the back of my hand. “Ten bucks says you’ll snuggle with her again if the moment arises.”