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I take a deep breath and ask, “Do you eat the stuff I leave for you, or do you throw it away?”
CHAPTER48
Hans
I thinkabout the banana scones that were raw in the middle and charred on the outside. I think about the angel food cake that was salty. I think about the wet zucchini cookies I inhaled over the sink.
“I eat all of it.” I keep pressure on Cassandra’s hand, and it moves with mine as I slide my palm up her thigh until I can feel the heat radiating off her pussy.
It takes focus to stop there. I want to do more. Want to grip herthere.
The woman I’ve beenfocused onfor over a year just admitted that she started her blog because of me. She made that foodforme.
And I want to devour her for it.
I want to strip every shred of clothing from her body and tell her how much she means to me. I want to feast on her flesh and tell her I’ll eat anything she makes me.
But we’re about to pull into the airport. And as much as it would simplify my life, I can’t make Cassandra miss her flight.
CHAPTER49
Cassie
“You do?”My voice is breathy.
Hans eats my food.
And his hand is so warm over mine. And it’s so close to touching methere. Which I want him to do, but I’m glad he isn’t. Because I don’t want to walk through TSA with damp panties.
“Always.” His tone is so honest.
We start to slow, and I look out the windshield to see we’ve already arrived.
I watch his profile as he slows and pulls his truck to the curb in the departures lane.
“When I get back, I’ll bake you something.”
He puts the truck into park and looks at me. “I’d like that.”
Before I can say more, Hans shoves his door open and climbs out.
And just like that, all my earlier travel stress flares back to life. But rather than begging Hans to take me back home, I follow him out of the truck.
He’s already got my suitcase on the sidewalk next to him, and he’s holding my backpack out for me to put on like a jacket.
I slip one arm through the first strap, then the other, before turning back to face Hans again.
He moves his hands to my shoulders, adjusting the backpack.
“I get back Friday afternoon, but my dad is planning to pick me up.”
Hans nods, adjusting the straps again.
“Thank you for driving me this morning.” I wet my lips. “I really?—”
Hans slips his fingers under the straps and yanks me forward, my chest bumping into his. “Be careful, Cassandra.”
“Wh-what?”
