AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As enticing as that sounded, “I’m not really looking to give all my colleagues orgasms at a picnic,” Brooke said.
“Don’t worry,” Dylan murmured, leaning close to her ear. “I’ll make sure you get your dessert tonight.” He punctuated this tantalizing promise by nipping her earlobe with his teeth.
A tingle traveled up her spine, and she took the basket out of his hand. “Let’s hurry and get this done, then. What else do we need?” It had been hours since she’d last felt the motion of his ocean, and she was greedy for an encore.
They grabbed the rest of the ingredients he’d need to make the brownies, and Brooke drove them back to her place. Dylan carried the groceries up the stairs to her apartment and unpacked the bags while Murderface twined around his legs.
Somehow, in just a few days, he’d managed to become her famously standoffish cat’s favorite person. Brooke could relate. After tomorrow, both she and the cat would be suffering from Dylan withdrawal.
Pushing aside the melancholy thought before it could ruin her mood, she threw herself into the task of helping Dylan make the brownies by fetching ingredients and kitchen implements for him. She didn’t own a mixer, so he was forced to whisk the ingredients by hand. A circumstance she highly appreciated once she noticed how delectable his biceps looked as he was mixing the batter.
The sight of him in her kitchen making brownies triggered all sorts of domestic fantasies she hadn’t even realized she had. A man this gorgeous and kind and thoughtful who could bake too? It defied reality. Dylan was like some rare and endangered species of bird that had only been spotted once or twice in the last century, somewhere deep in the rainforest, and whose continued existence was perpetually debated by experts.
Just watching him measure ingredients had Brooke’s body humming. Or maybe it was the chocolate. Didn’t they say it was an aphrodisiac? Could the scent of melted chocolate be enough to send her libido into overdrive?
Her mouth watered as she watched him stir in the chocolate chips, his arm and shoulder muscles flexing as he worked. She’d never given a lot of thought to cooking before, but watching his deft, artful movements was like discovering a new kink.
Yeah, it was definitely Dylan that was sending her libido into overdrive. The chocolate was just a bonus.
He glanced her way, and his mouth twisted into a half-grin as he surveyed her over his shoulder.
“Yes, I was staring,” Brooke confessed before he could point it out. “Sue me.”
“I could take off my shirt if it would improve the experience,” he offered casually.
“Would you? That’d be great.”
She was kidding, but apparently he wasn’t, because he let go of the spatula, reached behind his head, and pulled his T-shirt off.
Whoa.
“Better?” he asked as he tossed his shirt onto the floor of the dining room and resumed stirring the batter.
Brooke licked her lips. “Mmmm. Yeah. Excellent. Thanks.” What could be better than a sexy, shirtless man baking brownies in her kitchen? It was like the ultimate lady porn.
“Baking pan?” he asked.
She passed him the metal baking pan she’d prepped with cooking spray, and he poured the brownie batter into it. Once the pan was full, she watched in horror as he scraped his finger along the inside of the bowl for a taste test.
“No, don’t do that!” Brooke caught his wrist before he could pop his finger in his mouth. “You could get sick.”
Arching his eyebrows in defiance, he stuck his finger in his mouth despite her grip on his wrist, and proceeded to lick every last speck of chocolate batter off in the most pornographic way possible.
Brooke let go of him, barely managing to suppress a laugh as she shook her head in disapproval. “It’s your funeral.”
“Has anyone ever actually gotten salmonella from eating raw eggs or are haters just trying to stop me from living my life to the fullest?”
“You stole that from Twitter.” She’d read that exact same sentiment in a tweet just a few months ago.
He crossed his arms, which did truly amazing things for his pecs and biceps. “I’ll have you know I got it from Facebook.”
“Which means it originally came from Tumblr, as all the best content does.”
“I don’t understand Twitter.” An adorable little line sprouted between his eyebrows. “It’s like five hundred people standing in a room yelling at each other all day.”
“That pretty well sums it up,” Brooke agreed. “Anyway, it’s not just eggs you have to worry about these days. Now it’s the risk ofE. coliin the raw flour.”
He screwed up his face and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “The world really is going straight into the shitter. Literally.”
