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She tossed a look at me over the shoulder. “View not to your liking, Grease Monkey?”
“The view is most definitely not the problem.”
She turned back around and resumed rummaging. “Oh no?”
“Nope. The problem is that I don’t have time to show you how much I appreciate it.”
Baker straightened and kicked the refrigerator door shut with her heel. “Then you better hurry up and become the boss so you’ll have time to do whatever you want.”
She turned her back to me and stuffed a box into a brown paper bag. She began to close it, abruptly stopped, grabbed a couple of bottled waters from the fridge, dropped them in the bag, then strutted back over to me.
She held it out to me, but didn’t let go when I latched onto the fold.
“Thank you.”
Her eyes smoldered. I was two seconds away from saying to hell with everything and staying home in bed with her.
“Have a good day.”
I pulled on the bag and still she didn’t let go.
“This for me or you?”
“You.”
“You gonna let me have it?”
She smirked. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“What you’re willing to do to get it?”
I swallowed my groan. Anything. And she damn well knew it.
“Easy, if you want something from me, all you have to do is ask.”
She cocked her head to the side. “I don’t think I want to ask.”
“I don’t need you to anyway.”
Her lips parted. I knew what she needed. Better than she did.
“I don’t think I want something from you. I think I want to give you something.”
I prepared myself for whatever she had in mind. Mischief was in those pretty eyes.
She rolled up on her toes, wound her arms around my neck, and kissed me like she’d never have the chance to again.
I dropped my lunch on the counter, hoisted her up by the hips, and set her beside it. She locked her ankles on my lower back. I threaded my fingers through the base of the knot on top of her head and slanted my mouth over hers.
Her moan vibrated through me. I deepened the kiss in response, unable to stop whatever this madness was.
She slid to the edge of the counter. I pressed my erection against her center, cursing the fabric that separated us. Baker fumbled with the zipper on my coveralls, had it halfway off my arms when I came to my senses.
I grabbed both of her wrists with one hand. “No time,” I panted.
“I need you.”
