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Faith laughed. “Like what?”
“Like chocolate chip cookies. The lady who invented them thought the chocolate would melt evenly and it didn’t.”
“Wow, you really pulled that out of your ass. I’m impressed. Though I’m not sure how I feel about being compared to a cookie.”
“You’re just as sweet. And I can be impressive on occasion. With the right motivation.” My cock was getting harder in the dark, quiet bedroom.
Her eyes widened and I knew she was remembering earlier. “It sounds like the whole chocolate chip cookies thing was an accident though, not a bad idea.”
I had no answer to that. I had nothing. Just desire and impulse and a burning need to taste her again. So I bent down and took her mouth.
Faith broke off the kiss and turned her head. She dragged in a shaky breath. “Don’t tease. Either take me to bed, MacKay, or get out of my room.”
I didn’t get out of her room.
ChapterTwo
Faith
MacKay Lennox.
Ex Football Player.
Part owner of a brand-new whiskey distillery.
My brother’s best friend.
The object of all my fantasies at thirteen. And of all my fantasies today, at twenty-three.
Because now I knew what it was like to feel his lips on mine, and feel him deep inside me as he stared into my eyes.
Thanks to a spontaneous hookup at my brother’s wedding, my decade long crush had resulted in multiple orgasms and MacKay climbing out of my bedroom window at six in the morning like we were a couple of teenagers.
He had said he couldn’t call me, because of my brother.
I had stupidly refused to believe him.
Only he hadn’t called and he should be dead to me.
He should mean nothing.
Just a pleasant (absolutely freaking amazing) one-night stand that meant nothing.
Only it didn’t. Damn it. Because I’d been crushing on him forever and that day, that night, he’d made me feel like there was something between us.
All I know is that you hit me like a hurricane.
That’s what he had said and I had believed him.
I shoved my hair off my shoulder and mentally eye-rolled.
He fed you a line, Faith. To get laid.
I was well aware of MacKay’s presence at Cash and Sera’s baby shower, though our paths hadn’t crossed. I could feel his eyes on me as I moved around, making sure gifts got unwrapped as quickly as possible. No one really wants to sit still for three hours and oooh and aahh at a mom-to-be tearing off wrapping paper. Or at least most people don’t. The crowd starts to get restless and you lose them to the bar if the unwrapping takes too long.
It was my job to prevent a mass exodus in pursuit of cocktails by keeping the gifts rolling along. To that goal, I had Marigold, Sera’s five-year-old daughter, on ribbon removal duty so packages got handed to her mother ready to rip open without having to ease a ribbon off. Marigold was taking the responsibility very seriously, and had made her way through about half the gifts. She was collecting ribbons with bows around her neck like they were beads at Mardi Gras.
But despite the fact that my own eyes were trained forward on Marigold, the mound of gifts, and Sera, I could feel MacKay’s eyes on me. I was doing a lot of bending and a stolen glance here and there proved to me that he was one hundred percent ogling my ass. It hadn’t been intentional on my part to tempt him, but I wasn’t hating the attention.
