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Did she want that?
Hell. Yes.
But all he did was run his thumb over her lips before the timer went off. She frowned in irritation as he stepped back. She didn’t want him to stop. Remy turned and opened the oven door. Suddenly, Isa realized that she had dozens more cupcakes to make.
Kiesha was waiting for them. This year, her friend was on the planning committee for the fair. And she was a demon when she was on a mission.
“Let’s finish these cupcakes, baby. Worry about everything else later.”
She nodded. Finish the cupcakes. Worry about everything else later.
* * *
Four hours later,Isa groaned as she straightened. Everything hurt. Her back, her hands, her head. The room spun slightly as the blood rushed from her head.
Shoot.
She grabbed the counter, breathing in deep.
“Whoa, Princess.”
Suddenly, she was in the air. She groaned as her stomach protested the movement.
“You okay?” Remy asked as he set her down on the sofa and crouched in front of her.
There was concern on his face and she drank it in. “I’m fine. Just straightened up too fast.”
And everything hurt. So much.
He eyed her worriedly. “Right. You’re having a bath, then getting into your jammies. Then you’re staying on this couch until bedtime.”
“Um, first. Did you just say jammies?”
“Pajamas.”
“I know what you meant . . . it’s just that jammies is such a cute way to say it. And, I mean, you’re not, um . . .”
“I’m not cute? Is that what you’re saying?” he asked dryly.
“Um, no. I’d never say that. You’re super cute. The cutest of them all. Grade-A cutie-pie.”
“Cutie-pie? Now,that’scute. Gonna get the bath ready.”
“No, wait!” As she attempted to get off the couch, he turned, pinning her with a look.
Yikes.
If she had more energy, maybe she would have matched him look for look . . . or at least that’s what she told herself.
“Did I say you could get off the couch?”
“You’re not the boss of me, dude.”
“Yet.”
Double yikes.
Why the heck did that turn her on so much?
