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“Flour.” Rowan nods to the bag on the counter. “I need two and a half cups in a bowl. Think you can handle that without starting the place on fire?”
The familiar banter gives me a temporary reprieve. For a brief moment, things feel normal between us again. I carry the flour and a metal mixing bowl to the island and stand beside him as I measure out the required amount. I may not be a whiz in the kitchen, but this is one task I can handle. “I’m not the Gray sister notorious for setting kitchens on fire, you know.”
“Not kitchens,” he murmurs so softly I nearly don’t hear it.
“Excuse me?” The flirty edge to my voice is automatic.
“Nothing.”
I should let this drop. Focus on measuring out two and a half cups so I don’t lose count and have to start over. We still have two desserts to go once this one replaces the blueberry crumble in the oven. But curiosity has given me a new confidence, and it feels dangerously good. I’m buzzing without the glass of wine to blame. Which is probably why I pinch a bit of flour and dare to flick it at Rowan. His beard and eyebrows turn white.
His stormy eyes drop to mine and time freezes.
Breath halts in my lungs as I wait for him to respond with a half-smile, a wise-crack, anything but this intense stare. I’ve known my best friend since we were just little kids. I know his favorite ice cream—rocky road with extra caramel sauce. I can tell by the way his eyebrows furrow if he’s in deep thought or thinking mischievously. I know he’s broken his left humerus—twice. Only once was my fault.
But this heated, intense look directed at me is unfamiliar. It’s way too intimate. If I had any sense, I’d turn, run out the door, and never look back. Why isn’t Bear waking up from his slumber to barrel between us? This is the dangerous moment in every romantic movie I’ve ever seen that gets interrupted.
“You certainly like toplaywith fire, Kin.” Rowan moves with impressive stealth. One moment he’s standing beside me with one hand holding a mixing bowl, the other whisking away at eggs and butter. The next, I’m pinned against the fridge with his lips crushed against mine. His warm hands run up and down my sides as I fist his shirt. The explosive kiss threatens to destroy me from the inside out, but I can’t stop. I don’twantto stop. I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Ineedthis.
“I bet that pussy of yours tastes sweeter than the blueberry crumble.”
My legs go weak, hearing those dirty words leaving my best friend’s lips. I gasp so loud Bear startles awake with a bark.
“Shit, Kin.” Rowan presses a hand against the freezer, pushing himself back. I instantly miss his body pressed against mine. My fingers have a death grip on his shirt, and I can’t seem to let go. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” The strangled word slips out an octave higher.
“I shouldn’t have gone there.”
“Why not?” My voice is husky and ragged. I’m at my fucking wits end with sexual frustration. If Rowan doesn’t start what he finished, I’m going to smack him with a baking pan.Hard. I snake my arms around his neck and tug him back to me. He doesn’t fight the pull. He also doesn’t answer my question, so I channel my inner she-wolf instead. “I have no idea how I taste. I’ve never had a man go down on me before.”
CHAPTER10
Rowan
Kinley’s confession makes every cell in body ache for her. My cock strains against the zipper of my jeans. Her voice has never sounded like liquid fucking seduction until this very moment. And those words are forme.
“Never, Kin?”
Her fingers slide up the back of my neck and into my hair. Her fingertips leave a trail of fire in their wake. Never in my life have I wanted anyone more. But I’m not fucking around. I’m not going to have some damn fling and just let her go when Rose comes back from her cruise. Not a chance.
“Never.” Her palm slides around, cupping my cheek. “I want you to be the first.”
Our lips collide again, a hint of blueberry on her tongue. I slide my hands down her sides, over the curve of hips, and beneath that perfect jean-hugged ass that’s been driving me fucking wild for days now. I scoop her up and carry her to the island. Her hip bumps a metal mixing bowl, and I shove it out of the way. I’ll have to start over on this batch because the liquid ingredients will probably separate by the time I’m done with Kinley. But I don’t fucking care.
“You’re sure you want this?” I pant the words, hoping like hell she hasn’t changed her mind.
Kinley leans back, undoing the top button of her jeans and tugging down the zipper, exposing bright pink panties. “I’m sure.”
The oven timer chooses that moment to beep. The fucker. I kiss Kinley hard. Deliberately. So she knows this isn’t an interruption that’s going to stop us. “Get those jeans off, babe. I’ll only be a second.”
I damn near burn my arm taking the blueberry crumble out of the oven. I’m panting like I ran a fucking marathon and I haven’t even tasted her yet. Considering all the years I’ve waited for this privilege, finally eating her pussy might just kill me. Shit. It’d be a helluva way to go.
Bear stands expectantly at the edge of the kitchen, where the tile transitions to carpet. The oven timer makes him think he’s getting pizza. I quickly grab a treat from the cupboard, one that I know will keep him busy for a while, and offer it up. He sniffs at it before taking it, happily trotting off to the living room, tail wagging in earnest.
When I turn back to Kinley, she’s leaning back on both hands. The hem of her shirt is hiked just a bit, exposing pink silk. Her jeans are in a pile on the floor.
