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Chapter 16
Cookies – an excuse to maneuver yourself to where you want to be
Fender
“Do you know how to make cookies?” Isla asks as we enter her house.
“I do.”
Leia rushes in behind us. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting visitors,” she says as she hurries to gather the papers scattered on the kitchen table.
I shackle her wrist to stop her. “Do you need to work? I can come back later.”
She snorts and waves to Isla who’s already pulling out ingredients to make cookies. “There’s no way my daughter is letting you leave. She’d handcuff herself to you if she could.”
The only person I want handcuffed to me is Leia. Although, I prefer to do the handcuffing. I have to hold back a groan at the vision of Leia spread-eagle on the bed with her hands tied to the headboard. She’d be at my mercy. My pants tighten as my cock enjoys the vision.
“Fender!” Isla hollers.
I clear my throat and force my mind away from sexy images of my little firecracker.
“You’re certain I’m not interrupting your work?” I ask Leia.
“It’s fine. Go help my daughter bake cookies before her head explodes.”
I chuckle and do as she says.
Isla already has the baking sheet on the counter along with a roll of pre-made chocolate chip cookie dough.
I tap the dough. “This is cheating.”
“It is?”
“Do you have chocolate chips?” I ask.
By the time Leia returns to the kitchen – her hair combed and wearing a different outfit – we’re nearly finished.
“You’re making cookies from scratch?” she asks as I demonstrate to Isla how to drop a rounded tablespoon of batter onto the cookie sheet.
“Look Mom!” Isla dips a tablespoon into the dough. When she lifts it, she brings out nearly half of the dough mixture.
“That’s a bit too much, cutie pie.” I snatch the spoon from her and show her again how much dough to use.
“I got it!” Isla tries to plop the dough onto the cookie sheet except the dough doesn’t leave the spoon. She shakes the spoon and this time the dough does leave the spoon. It doesn’t land on the cookie sheet, though. It flies through the air and lands on Leia’s chin.
Isla’s eyes widen. “Uh-oh.”
Leia wipes the dough away from her face and it falls to the counter. “Now you know why we use the pre-made dough.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t think.”
“Or you thought I needed a facial.”
“You don’t need a facial. You’re perfect.”
She scowls. “I don’t deserve to treat myself to a facial?”
“I-I…” I hold my hands up and back away. Shit. I screwed up.
