Page 116 of Just for the Plot

“No, I’m not,” he says, cupcake falling out of his mouth and making me laugh.

“You are, and I doubt I’ll be able to save you because you’re so much bigger than me.”

He chews, swallows, and then says, “Which means stealing your cupcake will be very easy for me.”

“Don’t you dare.” I shift away from him, only for his eyes to light up with laughter. “Bennett…”

He lunges at me and I quickly fall off the couch, on my ass, his jacket falling off me as he trains his eyes on me, ready to pounce. I attempt to get off the ground, but he’s on me faster than I can even consider my next move. He grabs one of my legs and drags me right toward him, shocking me with his strength.

I playfully yell, attempting to palm his face as I hold my cupcake as far away from him as possible.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Your cupcake is mine.”

“Never!” I yell, shifting underneath him and scooting farther away, only for him to climb on top of me, straddle me, and hold me in place. “No, this is my cupcake. Mine.”

He grabs the arm holding the cupcake and brings it up to his mouth.

“Bennett, don’t you dare.”

He opens his mouth wide, and out of pure defense, I shift under him and with my other arm, push at his chest, forcing him to his back as I reverse our position, so now I’m on top and he’s on the bottom.

“Ha-ha!” I say in triumph and then take a bite of my cupcake. “Nice try. Not as strong as you thought you were.”

“I guess not,” he says, not looking too upset about me taking him over. “I am upset that you won’t share your cupcake.”

“Don’t eat yours so fast and I won’t—”

He snatches the cupcake out of my hand, making me screech. “Hey, give that back.” I shift on top of his lap, reaching for the cupcake that he’s holding above his head.

“It’s mine now.”

“No way.” I lean forward, my chest pressing against his face as I reach for the cupcake.

“Hell, if this is what you plan on offering, then you can have your cupcake back,” he mutters under me.

I snatch the cupcake and shove the rest in my mouth before he can try to steal it again.

“I’m not even mad about it,” he says as his hands land on my hips, holding me in place, right on top of his lap.

I chew, chew…chew, and once I swallow, I say, “I think you motorboated me.”

“You were the one who shoved your tits in my face.”

“I wasn’t shoving them in your face. I was reaching for my cupcake.”

“Mm-hmm,” he says as his thumbs dig into my hips, something that makes my entire core throb.

Jesus, what is wrong with me?

I should probably get off him.

Send him on his way.

Thank him for a lovely night and offer him sweet dreams.

And yet, I don’t move.