Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
I gasp. “I was already covered in cake!”
“I’m so sorry,” he says dryly.
“You don’t sound it.”
“Let me show you, then.”
“You’d better,” I say.
Corbin steps closer. When he’s inches away, he whispers a very unapologetic, “Sorry.”
It’s soft and sounds like a promise, then it turns into…a kiss on my cheek.
“Oh,” I say. Or maybe I squeak it as he kisses the frosting off my face, gently, slowly, like he’s savoring the taste. I catch another hint of his aftershave. I caught the scent earlier, but now that he’s even closer, he smells like campfire and the lake. I’ve never been outdoorsy—I despise camping, and I think hiking is worse than CrossFit—and yet, I want to roll around in a tent right now.
Or, just luxuriate in this chaste-ish kiss that’s lasting longer than a cheek kiss should. His lips are so soft and so deliberate. It’s a mind-bending combination. I fantasized about a moment like this for months after I first met him. But I was finishing college, and not only was Corbin Theo’s friend, but he had a young daughter. I didn’t want to date or even sleep with a guy who had a kid, let alone someone my brother knew, so those dirty dreams stayed just that. Now, though, I’m relishing this kiss, this gentle press against my cheek that somehow feels far dirtier than it should.
When he inches away from me after several druggy seconds, he rasps out, “I told you I like cake.”
“Me too,” I say, keenly aware I’m not in college anymore. I don’t feel so much younger than him like I did then. The other things? I’m not thinking about them as I drag my teeth across my bottom lip. Possibly, I do it to see if he’ll watch me. And I like what I learn. The man can’t look away from my mouth. Just like I haven’t been able to look away from him whenever I’ve seen him over the years, at games, or with my brother, or just…around.
Perhaps I was wrong about the universe hating me. It can’t hate me that much if it’s putting this sexy man in my path, even if he’s best friends with Theo. He’s helpful and braids hair and has strong hands…
One of them still holds my wrist. Holy shit. Corbin grazes my forearm with his thumb, a slow and steady back and forth. Is it supposed to feel that good? That tingly?
My thoughts scatter when, with a smirk, Corbin adds, “What are you waiting for, Mabel? Try the cake.”
I quickly connect the dots. The only place to try the cake is…on his lips.
I’ve never been one to back down from a dare.
I don’t think too long about his challenge. I rise on the tiptoes of my sneakers and press my lips to his. A quick, firm, thank-you kiss, I tell myself. But it’s a lie because I don’t stop kissing him.
Corbin doesn’t stop either. As his lips brush mine, he lets go of my wrist, cupping my chin instead. He holds me in place, nice and firm.
He slides his thumb along my jawline in a slow caress. He takes his time, teasing me with his sweet, sugary mouth that tastes like what should have been a winning confection. His other hand roams up my arm, and suddenly my arm—my freaking arm—is aroused too.
His touch is so light, so tender, and so…good that I don’t feel like someone who got dumped for a reality show. Or someone whose ex just bitched about her on national TV. Or the silly baker who’s been failing to catch her dream for years.
Right now, I just feel…wanted, hot, and irresistible.
I rope my arms around his neck above the starched collar of his dress shirt, twining my fingers in his hair. I inch closer so I can press myself against him. The second our bodies touch, my brain forgets everything beyond that door.
He hums, a rough, inviting sound, then wraps an arm around my waist. Presses a firm hand to the small of my back. Tugs me flush against him. And…yes.
I kiss him back harder, trying to say things with this kiss. Like, Tonight would be a good time for you to strip me to nothing, the way I’ve imagined you doing.
He’s getting the message. His fingers dig into my ass, squeezing me tight, kneading me through my jeans. Yanking me closer.
I grind against him, and my brain pops. I should stop. Truly, I should. But my head swims with lusty thoughts. My body pulses. And Corbin hooks my right leg up around his waist.
Like he needs a better angle.
Time is running out, and yet this feels too good to quit. I push back against him, seeking friction. He bends his knees, and we’re fucking against the door with our clothes on.
My cells are buzzing. My legs are shaking. This is so utterly risky, making out in a trailer that’s not even mine, where anyone could walk in, but I just don’t care.