Page 71 of Screwed
He watched her from the door to make sure she was safely in her car. Crickets chirped in the shrubbery, the night air soft and damp. Then her taillights disappeared around the bend in his street.
Chapter Sixteen
Cash was picking her up at six, although their reservation at Interlude wasn’t until seven. She buzzed around her kitchen, nerves fluttering wildly in her belly, making sure the cake was perfect and ready to be transported to the restaurant. It was different than other ones she’d done, so she hoped Cash liked it. More importantly, she hoped his mom liked it.
It was a tall cylinder of cake, frosted in shades of pink that started with a deep rose at the bottom, ending in a pale blush at the top, and adorned with three big pink flowers, a few smaller ones that cascaded down the side, and topped with a sugar butterfly in pastel shades of pink, blue, and mauve.
She clasped her hands together as she studied it and scrunched her face up with excitement.
Okay. She needed to get herself ready, too. She still hadn’t decided on a dress, although she was all showered, shaved, and silky with her favorite body lotion, her hair blown out smooth. She ran upstairs on bare feet and hopped from foot to foot in front of her closet, where she’d hung two dresses—the black halter-style dress and the red one with the shoulder cutouts. She pursed her lips. Black was safe. You could never go wrong with black. The red was gorgeous, but tonight was definitely a little black dress night, a sophisticated fade-into-the-background night as opposed to a stand-out night, since she didn’t know anybody who was going to be at this party other than Cash.
She shrugged out of her robe and slipped on a sheer black thong and black strapless bra, then shimmied the dress down over her head. She reached for the zipper and got it halfway up her back when it stuck. Well crap. She tugged at it in vain and finally gave up. She’d have to get Cash to help her when he got there.
He was always helping her.
She’d thought she was helping him by making this cake, but she wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t helpingherby hiring her to do it. She was just starting out in her business. Although she’d had a few orders right away those first weeks, last week she’d had not a single one, and she was starting to worry that maybe her initial confidence had been misplaced.
She grabbed a pair of strappy black sandals and a pashmina for later, in case it was cool when they came home, and ran lightly back down the stairs. She was halfway down when the doorbell rang. Pausing, one hand on the rail, she sucked in a breath at the way her heart leaped in her chest, then continued down at a slower pace.
She opened the door to see Cash wearing a pair of narrow black dress pants and a fitted charcoal striped shirt with the cuffs turned back. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw. He looked so stylish and sexy, she wanted to whimper. “Hi, come on in,” she chirped, trying to sound casual and together.
“Wow,” he said. “You look amazing.”
Her heart quivered. “Why, thank you. You look good yourself.”
His hot gaze swept up and down her body, and her skin heated. “Would it be inappropriate to tell you how fuckable you look?”
Her girl parts squeezed. “Um. It might be. But since there’s nobody here but us, I’ll tell you that you look pretty fuckable, too.”
His smile went dirty. “Excellent.”
And she knew what he was thinking.
When she’d left his place that night after theirDaredevilbinge, they’d both wanted sex. She’d been hyperaware of him beside her on the couch the entire evening, and the sexual tension shimmering between them had been undeniable. But she’d made herself walk out, because they couldn’t go there.
Tonight might not end like that. And she had to admit her panties were getting damp already thinking about it.
“I, uh, have a little problem.”
“So do I,” he muttered, glancing down. “Only it’s not so little.”
She blinked, her belly doing a flip. A surprised laugh burst from her lips.
“What’s your problem, darlin’?”
“My zipper is stuck.” She pivoted to show him her back.
He sucked in an audible breath. “Jesus.” He stepped closer, and she felt his body heat, then rough fingers brushed her skin as he worked at the zipper. Awareness slid over her skin. A sharp tug had the zipper free, and he slid it up.
“Thank you.”
He cleared his throat. “You’re welcome. So where’s the cake?”
“Right here.” She led the way to the kitchen and gestured.
“Damn. Mama’s gonna love that.”
“You think?”
