Page 48 of Irresistibly Wicked

“That’s a little concerning.” She filled her spoon with whipped cream and chocolate sauce. “Maybe you should consult a therapist.”

“I’ll give you a therapist.” He glanced at the sundae. “At least you left me a cherry.”

As he reached for it, she snagged the stem with her fingers and popped the cherry into her mouth, her dimples deepening as she ate it.

“What the hell?” He laughed. “You broke the cardinal rules of sundae sharing.”

She pointed her spoon at him. “It’s not my fault you’re blabbing instead of eating.”

“I see how you are.” He dipped his spoon into the peppermint ice cream, then tapped it to the tip of her nose.

“Hey!” She wiped it with a napkin, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t waste the goods.”

“You’re lucky it only ended up on your nose.”

“Is that a threat?” She dipped her finger in the chocolate sauce and sucked it off.

She was killing him. Those plump lips wrapped around her finger and her gorgeous eyes, glimmering tauntingly, were trouble waiting to happen. Gritting his teeth against their mounting attraction, he stabbed the sundae with his spoon, and she scooped the chocolate sauce from the top of it. As he lifted his eyes to hers, she dipped her finger in the chocolate again, and her hand shot out, painting his cheek with it as she howled with laughter.

“I can’t believe you did that. I should make you lick it off.” He grabbed a napkin.

“Dream on, Casanova.”

He hauled her across the bench, and she squealed as he locked his arm around her. “Get that tongue ready, Flores.”

“I’m not licking you!” She buried her face in his neck, cracking up.

“You assaulted me with chocolate. You gotta pay the price.”

She tried to wriggle out of his grip as he stuck his finger in the ice cream.

“Don’t you dare!” she warned.

“That sounds like a challenge to me.”

He painted a Z on her cheek, and she squealed. She was too fucking cute, laughing and trying to get free as he tugged her closer, said, “I marked you like Zorro,” and then dragged his tongue up her cheek, licking the sweetness from her skin.

“Zander!”

She tried to push out of his arms, but he kept her close. They were both cracking up as their eyes connected with the impact of a thunderclap, commanding attention as everything else faded away. Silence stretched between them, hot and hesitant. She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip, restraint and desire battling in her eyes.

Fuck. What am I doing?

She wasn’t some chick looking for a good time, and she didn’t need the likes of him mucking this up for her. She needed a friend who would do right by her, and damn it, he was going to be that guy.

Letting go of her was harder than it should have been, and for a split second he thought he saw a flicker of something similar in her eyes. But in the next breath, she was snagging a napkin like nothing had happened. Either he needed to get a fucking grip, or she was as good at switching gears as he was. He was starting to think it was the latter.

“Don’t mess with a Wicked, darlin’. We always win.”

“We’ll see about that.” As she wiped his cheek, she said, “You’re a mess.”

He grabbed a napkin to wipe his face. “At least my shirt’s clean. You dropped some sprinkles in your feeding frenzy.”

She looked down at her chest. “Were you checking out my boobs?”

“No.” He laughed.

“Mm-hm. Careful, Wicked. We don’t want to blur those fake-relationship lines.” She lifted the top of her shirt and lowered her chin, licking the sprinkles off it.