Page 47

"This building…" He gestures to the structure around us.

"What about it?" I ask cautiously.

"I bought it."

I blink. "You bought what?"

"This building. The whole thing. Three floors, the storefront, the apartments upstairs. I closed on it two days ago."

My mouth opens. Nothing comes out for a solid five seconds. I glance around the kitchen, at the new equipment, the freshly painted walls, the walk-in cooler that mysteriously stopped making that grinding sound last month.

"Thane."

"No landlord is ever going to push you out. No developer is going to buy the lot and convert it. No one is going to raise your rent because the neighborhood got trendy." He holds my face between his scarred hands and tilts my chin up. "What you built here is yours. I just made sure the ground underneath it is, too."

My vision blurs. I grip his wrists and hold on tight. "How much did you spend?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Thane Cross."

"Two point four million. And I'd pay ten times that."

I pull his mouth to mine and kiss him with everything I can't say out loud without ugly-crying into the buttercream. He groans against my lips and his hands slide from my face to my hips, pulling me as close as my belly allows. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and the taste of his morning coffee blends with the sugar on my lips, and the combination short-circuits whatever was left of my composure.

"I love you." My voice cracks around the edges and I don't care. "You impossible, terrifying, flour-carrying man. I love you."

"I love you, Neve." Rough, quiet, stripped of everything but the truth. "I loved you in that bar before I knew your name. I love you more now than I know how to carry. Sorry I made you cry, though." He thumbs away a tear.

I pull back and wipe my eyes with the heel of my hand. "You can't just drop two point four million on me before sunrise and expect me not to cry, Thane."

"I can and I will, and I plan on doing it more often. Get used to it."

He lifts me onto the counter before I can protest. The surface is cool beneath my bare thighs where my sleep shorts ride up, and flour dust puffs out from under my palms. His hands grip my knees and spread them wide enough for him to step between, and every nerve ending from my belly button to my toes catches fire.

"We open in an hour." My protest is weak and we both know it.

"Then I'll be quick." His mouth drags down my throat. Warm lips, the scratch of morning stubble, a slow pull of suction against my pulse point that draws a whimper from somewhere deep in my chest. "Or slow. Depends on how sweet you ask."

"Daddy." The word slips free the same way it always does. Unplanned, honest, and loaded with everything I need from him.

His whole body goes taut. A low growl builds in his chest and his grip tightens on my thighs, pulling me to the edge of the counter until the hard length of him presses against my center through the thin fabric of his joggers.

"Say it again, sweet girl."

"Please, Daddy." I hook my fingers into his waistband and tug. "I need you."

He strips my shorts and underwear down my legs in one smooth motion. Cool bakery air hits my bare skin and I gasp, gripping the counter's edge. His palms slide up my inner thighs and he drops to his knees on the flour-dusted floor, pressing his mouth against the inside of my knee.

"Right here." He kisses higher. "Where you're safest." Higher still, his breath hot against the crease of my thigh. "Where you built everything beautiful in your life."

His tongue drags through my slick folds and my spine arches off the counter. My hand flies to his hair, gripping tight while the other knocks a measuring cup to the floor. It clatters against tile and neither of us cares.

He devours me with the patience he brings to everything. Slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue that build pressure until my thighs tremble around his ears. He pulls my clit between his lips and sucks gently, and the sound I make bounces off every stainless steel surface in the kitchen.

"Thane, please. I need more."

He rises and guides my hand to his thick cock as he frees himself from his joggers. I wrap my fingers around the rigid heat and stroke, and the groan he buries against my neck vibrates through my entire body.