The waiter brings out the last two flavors of cake: coffee-infused mocha and ginger and rum. I think they’re winners, but based on Noel’s reactions, they probably won’t make the cut.
Sebastian scribbles a few final notes in his notebook before closing it. “Alright, that’s a wrap on the cake tasting. I need Santino and Hayden for a few more shots, then we’re done here.”
I push my chair away from the table, lift both arms overhead, and arch my back to stretch. My t-shirt rides up and I can feel the heat of Hayden’s gaze on the strip of skin around my middle.
Despite us being all couple-y the past few days, we haven’t done anything more than cuddle. No making out. No sex. We’ve even kept to our own beds at night. I’m not entirely sure why.
I mean, no, we’re not officially together or anything. So it’s not a given that we’d be intimate. And there’s no camera trained on us, so there’s no professional reason either. I definitely want to kiss him again, feel his naked body against mine, have his dick deep inside my ass. But neither of us has made a move and… I’m pretty okay with that for now.
“Santino?” Sebastian waves me over to a long table by the wall, filled with extra slices of cake. “Alright, pick a plate. Then wave Hayden over and feed him a bite. Got it?”
“Yup!” I search the table until I find the one that reminds me most of Hayden.
“Ready?” Sebastian asks, pointing the camera at me. “And action.”
I dig my fork into the cake and take a bite, moaning nice and loud for the mic to pick up. “Hey Hayden! You’ve got to try this.”
Hayden enters the frame. “What flavor is that one?”
“Spiced coconut and papaya.” I raise a forkful of cake and feed it to him. His lips wrap around the tines of the fork and his gaze locks onto mine as he slides the cake off the silverware. Jesus, is it just me or did it suddenly get super hot in here? My stomach tightens with desire and heat pools in my groin.
“Mmm,” Hayden hums, not breaking eye contact. “It’s good.”
“Uh huh,” I murmur.
There’s a bit of frosting at the corner of his mouth. Almost in slow motion, his tongue slips out to lick it up, but he doesn’t get all of it. In a trance, my hand floats up and I wipe off the rest with my thumb. I meant to clean my hand on a napkin or something, but Hayden catches my wrist. Still staring into my eyes, he brings my hand back to his mouth.
I watch in a lust-filled stupor as his lips part, then close around the digit. I gasp. It’s hot and wet and somehow, it feels like he’s sucking on my cock instead of my thumb.
He scrapes his teeth against the fleshy pad, bites gently, then soothes it with his tongue. The camera can’t see any of that, but that only makes it hotter. He’s not doing it for the camera. He’s doing it for me. Only me. And I sure as hell can feel it all over my fucking body.
I shudder and sway toward him. He steadies me with a hand on my hip.
When he releases my thumb, my hand falls to his chest. The muscle is hard, rising and falling with each of Hayden’s breaths. I can feel his heart hammering against my palm. So fast, it’s like he’s just run an obstacle course.
Is that how he feels when he looks at me? Because it’s how I feel when I look at him. Like I’ve jumped through all the hoops, climbed all the walls, crawled through all the mud just to be with him.
“Cut!” Sebastian calls.
I hear him, but I don’t want to move. I don’t want to step away from Hayden or stop staring into those incredibly green eyes. I want to get closer. I want to press myself right up against him and squeeze out every molecule of air between us.
A vibration in my pocket makes me jump and I scramble to dig out my phone. My stomach sinks when I see the name on the screen.
I managed to get out of family dinner last weekend with some food poisoning excuse. I only barely convinced my mom not to drive all the way to San Francisco to drop off soup. I felt awful for lying to her and I’m not even sure she believed me, but what else was I supposed to do?
I debate not answering, but I already ignored her call from two days ago and if I don’t pick up this time, she’ll send the fucking National Guard. Reluctantly, I hit the green accept button and move to a quiet corner of the store. “Hey, Mom.”
“Tino, where are you?” Mom practically barks.
Panic explodes through me. What does she mean, where am I? She better not be at my apartment in San Francisco. She only sometimes shows up unannounced. “Uh, what?”
“Where are you? Are you at home? I need you to find something for me on the internet.”
Relief douses the panic and the sudden spike and crash leave me a little weak. I slump against a wall, letting my forehead fallheavily against it. “No, I’m not home right now. I’m out with some friends.”
“Which friends? Who are they? Do I know them?”
I bite back a groan. I shouldn’t have mentioned friends. I know better than to voluntarily offer information she didn’t specifically ask for. “No, you don’t know them, Mom.”
