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Gio’s hips thrust into me, and he growls into my mouth.

In a blinding rage, we attack each other with furious kisses. They are hot and coconutty, but there’s nothing sweet about it. It’s hate; it’s lust.

His fingers thread through my hair at the nape of my neck. He tugs just enough, making me whimper as I buck hard against his hips. With one dry-humping swipe of his thick cock, I’m feral. I claw at his shoulder and then scratch my nails down his back for making me want him so badly. Between kisses, he nips my tongue in retaliation, and I squeeze him between my thighs, hoping to crush him to pieces.

As we battle, his tongue assaults my mouth, plunging deep and hard. His hands are rough, needy, and everywhere all at once. He squeezes my breasts, grips my hips, and finds my bare skin under my sundress. He throttles into me, like we’re naked, and I’m in ecstasy from this madness.

And now, like he planned this too, my entire body is on fire from his touch.

All of me is branded.

In another burst of energy, we tumble across the floor, battling for control over touches, over kisses, and over who can crush body parts faster. We are a whirlpool of sexual frustration that collides with the shelf on the other side of the room. Several boxes tumble to the floor. Pretzel sticks rain down around us, salting our spice.

At the commotion, we come to our senses and disconnect. We lurch away from each other and retreat to opposite walls like vampires who forgot they were made of darkness and accidentally touched the surface of the sun.

“What was that?!” I hiss, then wipe my lips with the back of my hand.

My expression warps with disgust. For protection, I grab a rolling pin and hold it up like a sword. It’s protection from him, yes, but also from myself. If I must, I’ll knock myself out with it.

“You started it!” he says and points at me.

“You’re out of your mind!” I aggressively wave the rolling pin, even as heat floods my cheeks because I realize I may have started it. Being near him makes me do very stupid things.

Gio crouches and grabs the forgotten cookie container. He rips off the top, removes a cookie, and angrily smashes it into his mouth.

Who’s emotionally eating now?

While he’s chewing, I study him in horror. Under the buzz of the light above, I detect Gio’s glassy eyes. I despise that Tina’s cookies make him tear up. I hate that he’s sentimental, that he has a heart big enough to love all the kids and Tina, and that his fiery kisses are better than a truly mind-altering coconut cookie.

But worst of all, I hate it was the kind of kiss someone fights for. And if I don’t get out of here now, I might tackle and fight him again for another taste.

13/

giovanni

Bush Hurdling

When a miniature goblin in a face mask opens the door, Sophia blasts out of the pantry so fast, she might as well be a shooting star. There’s stardust in her wake, or maybe it’s cookie dust.

Meanwhile, I remain hot and bothered on the floor, nursing the fiercest case of blue balls in the history of canceled ball games.

At least I have cookies.

I cradle the open container to my chest and scarf down its contents like the sugar will soothe my electrocuted nut sack, scramble my brain, and make me forget I was tongue-tied with Sophia while my dick was a millimeter from her pussy.

That last mental image isn’t helping said nut sack. In fact, I might as well shove them in an electrical outlet and get this death by 1.21 gigawatts over with.

I roll my head and crack my neck. Readjusting my position, I moor my elbows on my knees. I stare at the ceiling and sing my new serenity song about sunshine tucked away in pockets.

How the hell did I go from “I reject this crush” to “let me crush you with my lips”? Now, I can’t forget how she tasted like coconut cookies. Her kiss and my favorite cookie are forever linked.

This is a disaster!

Outside the pantry, Tina walks Amelia and Sophia to the front door. They’re saying their good-byes. Clothes are rustling as hugs are exchanged.

“I’ll find Adam’s info and text you,” Tina says.

“Really?” Sophia’s voice brightens.