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Felicity’s eyes widened as she stared back at me, a pink tongue darting out to lick the crumbs scattered on her lips. “Oh, my God, Aaron. These are so good.”
I tried not to show that the compliment warmed me. “As I said, a hobby.” Once upon a time, baking had been an escape for me. A way to run from the mundane and immerse myself into a world where all that mattered was simulating my senses and keeping myself sane.
She gobbled down the cookie and grabbed one more before sitting on the living room couch. I had to stop myself from gawking at her like a complete idiot, choosing to pour some wine instead.
“Do you imbibe?” I asked her from the mini bar I had installed in the spacious living room as I poured two glasses of white wine.
Her head turned to look at me. “Not in four years, but I can make an exception. Just one glass.”
I smiled, walked to hand her a glass, and mentally debated whether I should sit next to her or not. In the end, I chose the couch opposite her. The distance was good. Besides, I still had to tell her that I was AaRogue, so it was better I wasn’t distracted by her sweet coconut smell.
She tossed the last of the cookie in her mouth and downed it with a sip of wine. “I brought my laptop,” she said, reaching forward to drop her glass on the center table before pulling her laptop from her bag. “I have already begun 3D-modeling of the sketches and—”
“Felicity.”
She looked at me. “Hmm?”
“Tell me about you.”
Her hand paused, and she narrowed her eyes. “You already know about me.”
I leaned against the couch and stretched my hand on the headrest. “I want to know more.”
“I thought we were going to work tonight.”
“No reason we can’t do both.”
She blew out her breath. “What about you? You know more about me than I do you. Why don’t you want to share?”
I smiled at her annoyed expression. “Stop being cute. You haven’t asked me anything yet.”
Her eyes lit up. “Okay. I’ll ask you questions, and you have to answer them.”
I shrugged, bringing my glass to my lips to take a sip. “Ask away.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
She raised both brows. “When’s your birthday?”
“May twenty-fourth. When’s yours?”
“June third.”
We both smiled.
I could see she was excited about asking me questions. She tapped a finger against her temple as her teeth bit down on her lower lip. I wanted to reach over and soothe the troubled lip with my tongue, but I doubted she’d appreciate that very much.
After all, it had been a couple of days since she completely shattered around my fingers, and she had yet to allow me to get close enough to her to recreate the action. My blood had been in constant heat since then, and it was all I could do to not pump my cock to find surcease.
But I wasn’t so dense that I didn’t know that would be a futile venture. Desire burned like a volcano in my loins, and the only woman capable of easing the torture was seated right in front of me.
I needed to be inside her. Buried to the hilt. Suffocated by her tight walls as I thrust inside her wet heat. Hear her moans slice at the silence. Feel her break and mend and break again as I drove her to unimaginable heights.
Fucking hell. I adjusted on the couch, placing my hand holding the glass over my crouch to hide my marauding erection. The stupid thing never listened to me.
“When did you start to bake?” Felicity asked, oblivious to my discomfort.
