Page 33 of Cakewalk

Grabbing the bar of soap, he worked it into a lather all over his body. Not for the first time, he wished it was Gigi’s hands that were working their way across his chest and down toward his hips. The thought of her soft, delicate fingers dancing across his skin sent the blood flowing straight for his dick. Closing his eyes, all he could picture was her standing in front of him now, the water rushing over the both of them, as they caressed each other's bodies. He wanted so badly to feel her up against him, skin on skin, exploring the electricity between them. His hand found his rock-hard length and slowly began to stroke as he thought about Gigi—about touching her, feeling her, worshipping her in ways that she’d never experienced. Showing her just how special she was.

Holden let out a long groan as his release hit him, sending a shudder throughout his entire body. Part of him felt guilty for conjuring up the image of Gigi as he took matters into his own hand—she deserved better than to be someone’s spank bank material. She deserved a man in her life who treated her like she was his entire world. Someone who didn’t use her or take advantage of everything she had to offer. A man she could trust to be honest and true, who was man enough to admit his feelings to the woman in his life. In order to be that man, he knew he was going to have to step it up.

That started right now.

* * *

Gigi

Gigi listened to the pipes rattle as the hot water for Holden’s shower kicked in. This old house had a lot of weird little quirks, but she was finding that she loved each and every one—the only exception maybe being the way the second to last stair from the top of the back stairs squeaked if you stepped in just the right place. There was so much comfort to be found here, and she basked in the warmth of it all. Even with Holden’s outburst last week, she felt infinitely more at home here than she ever had in the townhouse in Atlanta.

A pang of guilt hit her again, thinking about Holden and everything he’d been through. It was no wonder he’d been so upset over everything on Thanksgiving. She knew as well as anyone what a flashback could do to you, and she wished she had known more about Hannah prior to the incident. She wanted to be able to help him. Neither of them could replace the spouse that they lost, but having someone else who understood was no small matter. Her heart ached at the thought of everything he’d lost and how much guilt he still carried around about it. She wished that there was something she could do to magically erase all the pain.

If only kisses really did heal boo-boos, she thought as she loaded the dishwasher. She would gladly kiss him over and over again if it helped relieve the pain. Oh, who was she kidding, she would gladly kiss him regardless.

Her insides fluttered with the memory of his touch from Saturday night. If she had thought the feel of his lips against her was spectacular that afternoon in the kitchen, he had proven to her now that it only got better. And yet, the idea of kissing again had her tied in knots.

It wasn’t that she was afraid of him, because she certainly wasn’t. If anything, her mind wandered to the thought of those strong arms wrapping around her and holding her close a little too often. What she was afraid of was how she felt. The feelings she was starting to develop were more than just that of a horny teenager who wanted to jump the class bad boy. She genuinely cared about him and valued the friendship they had built. She just also wanted more.

The question rattling around in her brain was, did he? When he’d arrived back from his run moments ago, she felt his gaze on her before she even looked up to find him walking into the kitchen. The look in his eyes told her he was happy to see her, and when he stepped into her asking about the sticky buns, she would have bet money that he was finally going to kiss her again. But then he backed off and hightailed it for the shower. Had she done something wrong? It had been a long time since she’d kissed anyone other than Bradley, and he wasn’t exactly the kissing-bandit. Was she just out of practice? Or worse, was she just bad?

The sound of her phone ringing startled her. Gigi couldn’t remember the last time her phone had actually rung. There were only a handful of people who even had this number, and since it seemed everyone up here preferred to text, a real phone call was rare. Wiping her hands on her apron, she picked up the phone and smiled when she saw Hunnie’s name.

“Hi!” she said into the phone.

“Hey! How did the sticky buns turn out?” Hunnie’s sweet voice asked over the line.

“They are in the oven now—should be finished in a couple of minutes,” she responded.

“I’m so excited to hear how they turned out. If they’re good, I’m gonna need that recipe!”

The pipes stopped their rattling, and Gigi lifted her eyes to the ceiling as if she could somehow see through it and into Holden’s bathroom. Images of Holden’s muscular body filled her head as she pictured him stepping out of the shower. Just thinking of his hard chest, still wet from the shower, water droplets slowly dripping down his hot skin, made her mouth water, wanting to lick at each one of those drops.

“Earth to Gigi!” Hunnie’s voice called through the phone again.

“Sorry, got lost in my own head for a moment. Yes, if they turn out good, I’ll totally give you the recipe.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just…” Gigi trailed off. Just what? A little obsessed with the idea of my housemate/landlord naked and wondering why he hasn’t kissed me in six days? There were just some things you didn’t say, even to girlfriends.

The oven timer trilled, and Gigi was thankful that she didn’t have to figure out just how to finish that sentence. Saved by the bell!

“That’s them, gotta go! I’ll send you a picture!”

“Sounds good, bye!” Hunnie said as they hung up.

Turning back to the oven, Gigi pulled out the baking dish, watching the gooey honey glaze bubbling from the heat. The golden-brown spirals oozed the sticky goodness, and Gigi’s mouth watered all over again. Placing the dish down on the trivet that she’d put on the butcher block, she waited a moment before carefully removing one of the buns, slowly blowing on it to help cool it off. After a few more huffs and puffs, she bit into the sticky bun, hoping for the best.

The intense flavor that burst in her mouth caught her off guard. Chewing slowly, she let the cinnamon sugar filling melt on her tongue, allowing it to take over all her senses. Everything about what she was experiencing was new and incredible, and she suddenly fully understood what people meant when they used the term foodgasm. This was quite possibly one of the best things she’d ever tasted. And there was only one person she wanted to share it with.

Holden.

Rushing up the back stairs, she almost tripped on the long carpet runner that sat in the hallway between their rooms. The door to both his room and his bathroom were open, with the lights turned on, so she took a guess at where he was, crossing her fingers she got it right.

“Holden!” she hollered, as she rounded the corner into his room, looking around for him.

When he appeared from the adjoining bathroom door, with nothing but a white towel slung low around his hips, Gigi forgot why she was even there. He was still wet from his shower, just like she had been imagining moments ago, but looked even better than her mind could have ever pictured. His long torso was lean and taut, showing off a nicely defined chest. Gigi could see the faint outline of what was probably once a six pack, but was now just a smooth flat stomach, leading to a powerful set of hips, a dark happy trail, and a V that made her lick her lips. His whole upper body called out to her, like some weird siren song, and the desire to run her hands all over him waged a war within her.