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“Sorry, we lost track of time.” She blushes as she looks up at her husband, and I don’t want to think about what they’ve been up to. “We’ve had dinner prepared if you want to join us in the dining room.”

“Sure,” I say. “Give us just a second.”

“We’ll meet you in there,” Boone says and tucks his wife close as they leave.

“Are you hungry?” I ask, and Demi nods quickly.

“Starving, actually.”

“Then let’s get you fed.” I hug her close and then put my lips to her ears. “Let me hug you a little before we go.”

My hands go to her ass, and I turn her so that she’s straddling me. Her knees go up, and her sex moves flush against my cock. Her arms go around my neck, and she squeezes me tight while I do the same against her ass. Her heat sits right over my cock, and I soak up how good she feels. This is so close to crossing the line, but god, do I want it.

“You’ll help save me?” she asks as she rocks against my cock.

“Fuck,” I hiss, almost going off in my pants. “Careful, angel.”

“If anyone is going to take it, I want it to be you.” She does it again, and I have to grab her hips to make her stop.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” I place a kiss on the top of her head and close my eyes to try and catch my breath. “Just not yet.”

When I glance down, I see a wet spot on my pants and I don’t know if it’s from her or me, and I nearly lose control. My hands are shaking as I slide them down her legs and lean back in the chair.

“Okay, that’s enough hugging for now.” She looks at me with hooded eyes and licks her lips.

“Can we hug again after dinner?”

“Maybe,” I say softly and tuck her hair behind her ears. “You’re too tempting.”

That makes her smile, and the sight of it lights up my soul. How has she come to mean so much to me so quickly? And how can I tell her that I’m never letting her go?

Chapter Nine

DEMI

“Don’t you think so, Demi?” Phoebe asks.

“What?” My fork full of creamy carrot cake pauses before it reaches my mouth.

I really am terrible at paying attention to what people are saying when I’m eating. Between the yummy dinner and my body still humming with desire from Curt, my head is all over the place.

“We could make your birthday cake ourselves.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I mean, we could order one, I’m sure, but it might be fun to make.” Phoebe is all smiles from across the table.

“We can do both if you want, angel,” Curt suggests as he drapes his arm casually over the back of my chair.

“Why? Do you think we’ll mess up and might need a back-up cake?” Phoebe narrows her eyes on Curt.

“Everything you make is perfect.” Boone is quick to defend his wife.

“I don't want her to have to make her own birthday cake if she doesn’t want to.” I lean in closer to Curt. He did put his arm around my chair, so I think that’s an opening to get closer. I might be wrong, but I’m still going to do it.

Phoebe’s mouth forms a perfect O shape. “Oh.”

“I would love to bake a cake. I’m just not sure I’ll be the best at it. We only ever used the oven to heat up frozen things like pizza and fish sticks.” That’s as far as my oven knowledge goes.

“We don’t have to. It’s your birthday, and I thought it would be fun.” She shrugs, trying to hide her disappointment. Phoebe is trying really hard to cheer me up. I think she’s carrying a little guilt over the fact that it was her father that bought me. Or tried to buy me.

“I think it would be fun too,” I agree. “I’ve always wanted to try and bake before. I’m happy to do it. If it’s not too much trouble.” I add the last part quickly.

“Nothing is too much trouble. Stop thinking about that, angel.” Curt’s thumb starts to drift up and down my shoulder. I think he’s trying to soothe me, but it only has that rush of heat forming between my legs again. For such a big man, his touch is always so gentle.

“Then we’ll make a cake. Let's do a test run!” Phoebe jumps out of her chair, not waiting for me to agree. She grabs me by hand and pulls me out of my seat and toward the kitchen.

“We didn’t finish our dessert,” I point out.

“I’ve got you, angel,” Curt says as he and Boone come into the kitchen, each carrying the carrot cake we’d left behind at the table. “Eat every bite,” he orders as he sets the plate down on the kitchen island for me. My breath catches when he leans down and kisses me on the top of my head. “Have fun.” With that, he turns and leaves me in the kitchen with Phoebe.

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