It was one thing for my dad to make fun of my reading habits, but Sam was different.
“It’s a holiday book and it had cookies in the title!” I grabbed it anyway.
Sam held his hands up. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”
I stuck my tongue out at him and put the book away. While I was in there, I dropped off my chef coat and let my hair down, then went to the kitchen. “Now, I’ve been working on this stuff since I got out of class today, so I hope you like them.”
“What’s the purpose, if you don’t mind my asking?” He sat and folded his fingers.
Putting a Sophieple tray together, I brought it to the coffee table in front of him and took my usual spot on the other end of the couch, plenty of distance between us. “Well, the desserts are mostly because they’re my favorite to make and I thought if you liked them enough, you could add one or two to the menu. The puffs are to flesh out the lunch options.” I split one of each open, the steam billowing out. “Philly cheesesteak and pizza puff pastries will bring a bigger lunch crowd from the college, and if you wrap them right, they’re great for eating on the go.”
“Those look very fresh,” he said, gesturing to my fingers. “Doesn’t that burn?”
Oh shit. I dropped them and laughed nervously, shaking my hands out. “Yeah, they are. I wasn’t even thinking. I’ll just, uh, run them under cold water.”
I really hadn't been thinking. Of course, they would be hot! Sophie was used to seeing me do some crazy shit, and I figured being in my own apartment had me overlooking my weirdness. I looked at my fingertips under the running water. They weren’t even slightly pink, much less burnt.
Thanks, Dad.
A low groan from the living room had a bolt of desire burning through my core and I gritted my teeth against it. “Lexi, these are fantastic!”
I wiped my hands and took a deep breath. He was enjoying my baking. There was nothing sexual about it. He was making the appropriate noises for good food. Nothing else.
“I think you’re right,” he said. “Both of these would draw in a bigger lunch crowd. Are the recipes pretty simple?”
“Not too difficult.” I picked up the other half of the pizza puff and blew on it. “If we get any busier, though, you might have to hire more help.”
His sexy grin came back. “Was that the plan? Make us so busy I’m forced to hire more help?” He leaned toward me. “Am I wearing you out?”
My mouth went dry, gaze dropping to his lips. I shook my head and cleared my throat. He was doing it on purpose. “Sam, look, we should talk about last night.”
“Should we?” He picked up a cupcake with horns on it, frowned faintly, then burst out laughing. “Are these devil’s food cupcakes?”
“How could you tell?” I rolled my eyes. “They’re made with a dark chocolate cream cheese frosting. With Halloween a month away, I figured—wait, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
Sam groaned again and my teeth snapped shut, legs squeezing together hard. Dammit, if he kept doing that, I was going to have to ask him to leave before I jumped him.
“You know, my bakery was popular before you started there.” He gave me side-eye and licked the chocolate from his fingertips. “I don’t know how you managed, but your food is so much more delicious than mine.”
“It’s a gift,” I replied more nonchalantly than I felt. “Now, about last night—”
He held the cupcake up to my mouth. I paused, glancing between him and the dark dessert. “I bet you haven’t even tasted one of these yet, have you?” he purred. “Thisis worthy of sin. Try it.”
“Aren’t you off the clock, devil?”
His eyes narrowed, his smile turning predatory again. “A devil’s work is never done, temptress.”
My stomach flipped. This was going sideways fast. I needed some air, but my body wasn’t responding. Instead, I opened my mouth and took a bite of the sinful delight in his hand.
Damn, that really was fucking delicious.
I wiped the icing from my mouth with my fingers and grabbed a napkin, but Sam caught my hand. Static crawled down my arm from his touch as he pulled my hand toward his mouth. His wet tongue flicked over the pad of my thumb and I held my breath, trying not to make a sound. The temperature in the room rose and his gaze seared through me.
We moved at the Sophiee time, crashing into each other, all restraint gone. He tasted like chocolate, but underneath was a smoky flavor that reminded me of the summer sun. Fitting, considering how hot I burned, myself. It was intoxicating, addictive, and I wanted more of it.
Sam grabbed my thigh and pulled me onto his lap, and the molten pastry had nothing on the heat emanating from his hands. He held me closer and I ground against him. Fuck, he was so hard already. I was going to burn up in his arms and I anticipated it.
“Wait!” I shoved back, Sam’s hands keeping me from falling to the floor. “This can’t… Sam, we can’t—”
