“Messy at the start. She’ll cling. She’ll resist—” He pulls the dough into a smooth length and folds it back, trapping air inside.
I wouldn’t resist. I’d cling to him and make a mess of both of us.
“But once she trusts you, she opens up.”
How I would open for him.
I swallow hard.
My mouth is dry, and the heat throbbing between my legs is in time with every slap of dough against the counter.
I think Tess has left her mark on me. I’m irreversibly tainted.
Because, since when do I let a man practically grind up against me in a public setting and then drool over him?
Not that anyone is noticing me now—if they ever were.
“Mmm. Feel that?” He presses down with the heel of his palm, rolling his wrist for leverage. “She’s soft, but she’s got bite.”
I’d bite.
I’d scratch.
I’d surrender to those big calloused hands.
His hips shift into a subtle roll forward as he pushes the dough away. I feel this roll against my backside—my ass. Then drags it back and repeats. Like he’s fucking the countertop.
My thighs clench tighter.
“This is what you almost stole from us.” It takes me a second to realize Jaclyn is talking—or purring. Her animal-print outfit suits her personality.
I’d apologize if I could find the words.
“She wants pressure. Wants heat. Wants your hands.” He leans in, weight behind each stroke.
I want his hands.
On my waist.
On my breasts.
Between my thighs.
Everywhere.
“Don’t be afraid to get rough. Just don’t be careless.” He slaps the dough.
Sharp.
Confident.
He slaps it again, and my body jerks like he’s slapped my behind.
His lips twitch.
Not quite a smile, but more like the baring of teeth. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Then work it.” His hands move possessively and demandingly.
