Her cocky smile drops.
I walk to her and stop at her side. I lean into her hair.
“But a woman’s never managed to have that effect on me. Until now.”
Her face flushes a pink shade.
Chapter Seven
SHAY
IAM WET.
Under my arms.
Behind my neck.
Down my spine.
Between the legs.
I’m grateful for the moment of doing nothing.
Just standing here. Just breathing.
Watching Cash is easier than concentrating on his instructions.
I’m not good at baking or cooking, or anything in the kitchen, if I’m being honest. But that’s not why my hands are shaking.
Every place he touched still burns. Like I’ve been marked.
It wouldn’t be bad if it had been a short brush or even the earlier run-in. A quick fifteen seconds is nothing compared to what we just did. His body working against my back. His fingerssliding between mine, and the motion of us mixing and kneading that dough together.
Pressing.
Leaning.
Grinding.
Oh, good lord, what’s the matter with me?
Why is this feeling so strong? A half hour ago, I was ready to punch him in the face, and now my entire body is on fire because of him.
My stomach coils—my core throbs. My thighs press together, and my nipples are so tight they ache.
