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“Dark chocolate cupcake with chili powder and bourbon frosting,” I said with raised eyebrows.
“Sure,” he replied, his lips pressed in amusement. “If the cupcake is chained and begging for mercy.”
Heat pooled between my legs. “Oh,” I smiled.
Amos groaned, raising himself slightly and wincing. “June, I don’t know about this.”
I yanked him back down, putting us nose-to-nose. “If you leave me with blue balls, Brady, I’m going to sleep naked and pleasure myself in front of you until your dick explodes.” Amos made a sound like he might be genuinely in pain. “Show me, Amos.”
He growled, ducking down to nip my neck then replacing it with a kiss as his hand skimmed up the side of my waist. “You want to be my kind of cupcake, June?”
“Only if you eat me.”
“Fuck,” he whispered. Amos hitched me higher on the bed and his knee spread my left leg wide. One arm supported his weight while the other slid up my abdomen toward the hem of my shirt. “Okay, gorgeous. But I have two rules.”
Rules. Hot. “Okay,” I said, my back arching as his hand traveled slowly, tickling under my crop top.
“One, and I don’t care if it’s not sexy or you think it kills the mood—we share lists and safe words.”
Lists?I thought with a jolt of panic.What the hell is a list?
“Two,” he bit my earlobe. “I don’t let my personal life leak into work. So, keep this on the down low.”
I nodded, barely breathing. “Fair.”
His hand skimmed the underside of my breast from beneath my shirt. “List, June. Let’s hear it.”
I screamed internally. “I, uh… What’s yours first?”
He lifted his head again, giving me a suspicious look. “It’s a list of what you are okay with and not okay with, sexually. You’ve never talked about that with your partners?”
My features stretched apologetically. “No, I don’t think I have a list.”
“Safe word?” he asked with a tilt of his head.
My brain did a slapstick comedy routine falling all over itself. “Syrup.”
His eyes hooded. “You just made that up.”
“Yes, I did.”
Amos gusted out a sigh. “Oh boy.”
“Fine, so I’m a blank cupcake,” I admitted. “But I’m still… tasty.”
His eyes went gooey warm again. “Cupcake, I know you’re delicious, and I haven’t even tasted you yet. That is not where my reservations come from.”
I groaned in frustration, trying to shift so his fingers would inch closer to my nipple, which ached for his touch. “Amos, please.”
“God help me,” he muttered, caressing the underside of my breast and skimming ever closer to my nipple. “You’re driving me crazy, June. The things I want to do to you.”
“Do them,” I whispered. “That’s what safe words are for anyway, right?”
He sighed, ending it with a growl. His attention stayed glued away from me, and I could practically see the zeros and ones computing best- and worst-case scenarios. Finally, when he returned his focus to me, it simmered with promises of unspeakable things. “Okay, Cupcake. Let’s play a game.”
I gave a happy squeal, but he pinched my nipple, and it ended in a moan. “Oh, fuck.”
Amos lifted himself on his knees above me and then he smoothed both hands up my ribs and under my shirt, lifting it away from my breasts slowly so it grazed the very tips of my nipples.
