Page 148 of Game Plan

“Wow, you thought of everything. This is so exciting. We could have done winter camping, you know? It’s been snowing all morning, and it’s beautiful outside.”

“And get frozen balls? No, thank you. I tried once with Chase. Never again. That time, we even built an igloo in his backyard. It was a disaster. I prefer you warm and cozy anyway.”

“So chivalrous.”

He shrugged. “I’m doing my best. Since it’s been snowing outside, it will feel like the real deal. We’ll just eat by the patio door and pretend we’re outside. Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

An hour later, we were standing next to each other in the kitchen, a mixing bowl on the countertop in front of us, and a chaos of flour, cocoa powder, milk, butter, eggs, and baking powder spread on every surface. Mason’s black shirt was now sprinkled with white powder and chocolate batter, and I was pretty sure there were clumps in my hair.

“You’re telling me you can make chicken broth from scratch, but you can’t make cupcake batter without turning your kitchen into a war zone?” I blinked, scanning our surroundings. “This is a disaster.”

He smiled like a mischievous child. “Not my fault. The mixer got carried away. You’re lucky I was stronger, won against it, and put an end to it. Otherwise, the walls too would have been painted in chocolate batter right now.”

I pressed my palm to my forehead. “All the time Paige spent at your place, baking, and you never caught a trick or two?”

“Nope. I was too busy sampling the product.”

“Jesus, Mase. I’m not even sure we have enough left to fill a twelve-cup cupcake pan. What a waste. We’ll have to do another batch. I thought you volunteered to bake cupcakes because you knew how to make them.”

“Again, this is my first time.” He licked the side of my cheek, and I giggled, unable to resist him when he was being all playful and cute. “From the taste of it, we succeeded because they’re delicious.”

“They’re not even baked yet. You can’t be sure.”

“I’m a confident man, Shepard. I tasted the product, and I liked it. What else do you need?”

I rose to my tiptoes and licked the length of his neck, capturing every drop of the chocolate delicacy with my tongue. “You’re right. It tastes amazing.”

“See?” Gone was his playful tone. His voice had turned husky, sending shivers through me. “I knew I was right.”

Before I knew it, we were both panting, kissing and undressing in the middle of the kitchen.

“What are we doing?” I asked, breathless. “This is not how baking should be done.” My thoughts began to muddle, sensations taking over, my body now in control. “We’d fail the food handling, sanitation, and safety regulations tests.”

“I don’t care. This is how you and I bake cupcakes, love. This is way more fun.” He leaned forward, tasting my skin from my jaw to the curves of my breasts peeking from the outline of my black bra. “Any objection?”

“No. Never.” A shiver skated down the length of my spine. “Please don’t stop. Never stop.” My words sounded more like moans than actual sentences. “And I think we should settle this in the shower. Your roommates could walk in on us at any time.”

Mason plunged his hand into the mixing bowl, coating his fingers with batter before spreading it all over my chest, neck, and shoulders, a satisfied expression curving his lips, and lust shining in his eyes. Before I could ask what he was doing, he added, “Making sure I don’t run out of ways of licking you until we reach the shower, Shepard.”

Oh God, this boy. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

He grabbed my ass and lifted me up until my legs circled his waist. Tilting his head, he traced the column of my neck with his tongue. “Yummy.”

Deciding to play his own game, I coated my fingers in the batter too and covered his face and torso, before attacking him with my tongue.

“Fuck, I think we should bathe in that, instead. It’s way too filthy to be put into a pan. There will be no cupcakes tonight, baby. I’m keeping it all to ourselves.”

“What will we have for dessert, then?”

“After I’m done with you, you won’t need sugar.” He winked and ran upstairs, never releasing his grip on me.

I twirled and fisted my hand, placing it below Mason’s mouth as if it were a microphone, once we'd finished cleaning up the kitchen after our impromptu shower. Mason was wearing dark jeans, sitting low on his hips and showcasing his long, muscular legs and his sculpted butt, and a white long-sleeved cotton shirt with a surfboard logo stamped on the front. My damp hair was tied in a knot at the top of my head, but I could feel water droplets sliding down the back of my neck, soaking the neckline of my oversized pearl-gray sweater. I’d paired it with skinny black jeans, keeping my face bare except for a coat of mascara and some lip gloss.

“You gotta sing along, Mase. Come on. Remember what Paige used to say.”

“What?”