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She shakes her head and laughs again before it fades to a smile, and then her brow furrows.
“Speaking of taking advantage and your bed…” She twirls the spoon between her fingers, and her cheeks flush slightly, her lip worrying between her teeth. “I watched you the other day. I didn’t mean to. I went back to get my phone after you went to shower, and the door was open…”
“Watched me?” I’m confused at first, and then the pieces start to fall into place when I remember the state I was in after she slept in my bed. My little self session to get her out of my head. Doing it all while I imagined her spread out in front of me. Fuck… “Oh.” I swallow down the awkward feeling. If I was capable of blushing I might be doing it right now.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. It was just… and then you said… Or I thought you said…” She stumbles over her words as she looks up at me.
“Your name.” Fucckkkkk. “Yeah, about that…” I grab my hat, taking it off and putting it back on again. Straightening the bill out on the back like it’ll make a difference in my ability to explain away what she saw. It’s a nervous habit of mine I can’t help. One I’m doing while I try to explain the fact I get off while I think about her.
“It was hot. Honestly.” She saves what’s left of my ego. “You were… I thought about walking in there, and then I ran off and wondered if I needed to confess my sins somewhere or something. I was torn between that and taking my own shower.” The smile she gives me then makes my heart stop.
“Your own shower?”
“Shower…” She uses air quotes and presses her lips together as her eyes dart off to the side.
“Did you? Fuck… Tell me you did.”
“No. I felt guilty, and I was in your house.”
“Right. You were in my house. You should have come to me. I would have taken care of you.”
Her tongue darts out over her lower lip, and she glances at me before she starts to turn away again. I catch her chin and sweep my thumb over it, bringing her eyes back to mine.
“I can take care of you right now if that’s what you need.”
“I…” She looks at me, and I can tell she’s considering it, that she’s curious, but thinks it’s the wrong thing to want. I’m too desperate to hear her come to care what’s wrong right now. “I have to finish the cake.”
“You can finish it while I finish you. Not a problem, Trix.”
“What?” Her fingers turn the spoon over again and then slip down over the handle. It’s a simple act that has me imagining more.
“Finish making the cake. You were doing such a good job before I interrupted. I want to watch you finish it.” I stand and gently press my hands to her hips, turning her around so she’s back facing the counter.
She sets the spoon down and reaches slowly for the spatula, and my hands coast over her hips, playing over the soft bit of skin between her shirt and her waistband. I can hear her breathing shift again with anticipation, feel it in the way she moves like she’s waiting for what I’ll do next.
My lips are at her throat of their own volition. I can’t get enough of the feel of her soft skin, the smell of her perfume, and the soft sound she makes when I kiss my way down her neck. My fingers follow a similar descent, making their way under the skirt she has on and teasing my way slowly over her skin before I go to slide my fingers under the band of her panties.
Until there’s a shrill sound that knocks us both out of the moment.
The doorbell rings, and I pause, racking my brain for who the hell could be here. Lizzy’s with her mom. I didn’t make any orders yet. I don’t live in the kind of neighborhood where people just stop by.
There’s a small exhale on her part, and her lashes flutter open.
“You should get that,” she says with a touch of reluctance in her voice.
“You know who it is?” I guess she did say she ordered something.
“Yes. Your birthday party.” She smiles up at me and then breaks out into a laugh. “Surprise!”
I bite my lower lip and shake my head until I can’t help but laugh too.
“Fuck… I’m gonna tell them to go around to the back, and then I’m finishing what we started. They can wait on us for a few minutes.”
“I should get the cake in, or it’ll never be ready in time. I’m late as it is. Can’t have a birthday without cake, you know.”
I run my hand under her chin and tilt it up so her eyes meet mine, raising a brow.
“Respectfully, fuck the cake.”
