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He follows me into the kitchen. “After meeting you, I would never. There’ll be no skanks ever again.”
I spin around to face him. “Oh, I’m sure.”
“I am sure,” he whispers, handing me an oven mitt.
There’s not an ounce of mockery on his face. He’s standing there like he’s serious, but I know it’s just a game guys like him play.
“Let me grab my cookies, and then I’ll give you the grand tour,” I say, ignoring his comment. He probably wants to charm me into finishing what blondie at the club started.
I’ll never give him that chance.
Gorgeous, but an asshole. I’ve no proof of that critique, but I’m going with it anyway to fight this attraction.
I slide the baking sheet of cookies from the oven and set them on the stovetop.
“Mm,” he says behind me. “Sugar, my favorite.”
I glance over my shoulder at Tobias, nearly coming into contact with his chiseled jaw as he leans in for a sniff. My blood pumps at an alarming rate. “Well, you’re not getting any. These are for Bob downstairs.”
He grabs for one anyway, and I lightly smack his hand away. “Ouch. I see you like to play rough.” He takes a deep inhale, but I swear he’s really sniffing my hair. “Smells delicious.”
My nether regions heat at his casual mention of playing rough, and I hate that I’m having this reaction to him. I think it’s because it’s been so long since I’ve had any sort of action. Jason, my last boyfriend, was a joke, and terrible in the sex department. I faked more orgasms than I care to admit. Now that I reflect on it, I’ve never had anything that would count as world’s best sexual experience.
I bet Tobias could give that to me. Just look at his strong hands.
Oh, his hand.
While I’m fantasizing, he’s reaching for another cookie, and this time, I grab it. I should let go, but I study it, memorizing the strength of it.
“I can do a lot with this hand if you’d let me,” he murmurs, standing entirely too close.
I drop his hand immediately and step back. “Fine,” I say, defeated. “Have a cookie.”
He smiles as he stuffs the treat into his mouth, and when he’s done, the tip of his tongue finishes off the lucky crumbs. “Delicious.” He sucks on his fingertips and it’s too much.
I shuffle around him and cross the kitchen tile with rapid steps. “Follow me.” I head down the hallway. “Your room is just through this door.”
“Right across from your room, I see.” He peeks his head into my bedroom.
I cruise across the floor to block the doorway. “You’ll never need to go in there.” I’m standing too close to his body, but I can’t move because the smell of sugar cookies and a woodsy scent fills my nostrils, and the combination makes me dizzy.
Or maybe it’s his intense stare that’s making me so light-headed I wobble on my feet when I reach for the door to close it.
He rests a hand on my hip, and a lazy grin spreads across his face. “You’re having the same effect on me too, baby girl.”
My eyes widen at his endearment and at how much I like it. “Don’t call me that.” I snap out of my Tobias trance and head into the guest room. “Here’s your key”—I set it on the dresser— “and there are towels in the closet. You’ll find extra blankets in there as well if you get cold at night.”
He moves through the room, over to the tall windows. “You won’t keep me warm at night?”
I jab a thumb over my shoulder. “I’ll be sleeping in my room. With the door locked.”
He locks his hands behind his neck, causing his shirt to lift enough for me to see the thin trail of dark hair leading into the front of his pants. I also see a well-defined v on his hips, pointing to the bulge in his jeans. “Well, if you ever get lonely, I’ve always got room in my bed.”
I snap my eyes up to his. He’s messing with me, because who says these things? And why do I find it thrilling? “No, thank you.” I turn to leave. “I’ll let you get settled in and unpack.”
“Have dinner with me,” he says before I walk out of the room.
“I already have dinner plans tonight with a friend.”
Tobias stalks toward me. “A guy friend?”
“Does it matter?” My plans are with Callie, but it’s not his business.
“I just want to see my competition.”
I laugh, but it comes out shrill. “Competition? I would never date you.” I don’t mean it to sound rude, but it’s the truth. When I met him, he was getting action from another woman. “It wouldn’t be prudent. You’re here for an interview for my father’s company, for one thing.”
He stops in front of me, toe-to-toe, and I breathe in his delicious scent once more. “You will date me. You just don’t know it yet.”
