Page 104 of Kickoff

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I need icing. No, not icing, but ice. A lot of ice

My lips broke into the largest grin known to humankind when I opened my bedroom door and bumped into Melinda a week later. A too attractive sight early on a Saturday morning. “Mel? What are you—” The cupcake she’d been holding lay smashed between our bodies, blue frosting spreading all over my bare skin. My eyes darted between my chest and her face, the amusement playing on my lips impossible to hide.

“Huh… Happy birthday?” She winced. “Sorry?”

“Are you my gift?”

She blinked. “Your what?”

“My gift? Since it’s my birthday and you’re standing here first thing in the morning?”

“Ohhh.” A red hue skated up her cheeks. “No. I’m here because I thought it would be fun to surprise you and spend the day together. Unless you have other plans.”

My hand curled around her neck, and I kissed her forehead. “Nothing sounds better than spending my birthday with you.”

I let go of her, and she appeared shaky on her feet. She zoomed in on the blue mess right above my heart. “I’m sorry for this. It was meant to be eaten.”

With a finger, I scooped some of the frosting and brought it to my mouth. “It still serves its purpose, and it tastes amazing.”

“You think? Paige coached me over the phone while I baked it.”

I used the same finger to scoop more frosting and brought my digit to her mouth. “Open up and taste it.” My words sounded dirty even to my own ears. The flush on her face darkened, and my body pulsed at how magnificent she looked when she was bothered.

She did as I asked of her, swirling the tip of her tongue and sucking my finger clean to capture every bit of the buttercream.

“Fuck, Mel.” I breathed hard, my voice huskier than I intended it to be, turned on. Dressed in only a pair of neon-colored boxer briefs, I couldn’t hide anything as we stood a foot apart.

The air around us became charged. I watched her with hooded lids, not sure how to shy away from the lust taking over every inch of me.

She batted her lashes and said, “I should clean up the mess I made.”

I blinked, trying to compute her words, but before I could ask what she meant, Melinda leaned forward and licked the icing off my chest, taking her sweet time. My heart rate picked up, and I was sure she could feel every thump against her lips.

I sucked in a harsh breath and grabbed her hips, my fingers pressing into her flesh and bones. I grew rigid as she laved my bare chest with her tongue until there was no trace of icing left.

“Mel…”

She stepped back, averting her eyes.

I cocked her face toward mine with a finger. “Whoa. You can wish me happy birthday every day for the rest of my life if that’s how you do it.”

We watched each other for the longest beat.

Her throat rippled.

“I’ll shower now. A very cold shower, okay? I need icing. No, not icing, but ice. A lot of ice. An icy shower.”

She followed the motion of my hand as I cupped my erection to keep it from drilling a hole in my boxer briefs.

Her face turned fire-engine red.

I lifted the bottom edge of her buttermilk-yellow ruffled top a few inches and smoothed my thumb over the pink scars the surgery had left on the lower-right side of her abdomen. Melinda held her breath, goose bumps rising on her skin under my gentle touch. “Does it hurt?”

She shook her head.

“Good.” I released her top, and she trembled when I removed my hand. “Can you wait for me? You can stay here. I won’t be long.”