Page 25 of Truth Revealed

And every single movement brushed her body up against Truth’s.

This wasn’t baking fucking cookies.

It was foreplay.

But instead of shying away and losing herself in her anxious thoughts, questioning her every move… she decided to just go with the flow.

It was time for Daria to stop questioning herself and let things happen. Whatever… or whoever, it may be.

* * *

TRUTH

As Daria worked the dough into submission, flattening it out before their final step for the night, Truth decided he was never going to bake with her again. It was torture.

She looked downright adorable with a dusting of flour across her cheek and all over her shirt, and Truth just didn’t have the heart to point out what a mess she’d become since they’d started. With her hair up in a messy bun, her neck was on full display, and every time he leaned over her to make sure everything was okay, he caught a whiff of her sweet citrus scent.

He’d been hard since he’d pulled the ingredients down out of the cabinet and caught her checking out his ass. It had persisted while they’d worked alongside each other to mix everything, and finally, they were almost done.

Sure, Truth could have moved to the side or even sat and watched her work, but as her hips canted back into his for extra leverage on her rolling motion, he couldn’t quite bring himself to step away.

I’m a masochist. That has to be it.

Why else would he have stayed close when he knew it was torture to do so?

“Is that good?” Her voice came out weak, and it caught his attention. Bringing his gaze back to the purple rectangle in front of them, he grinned.

“That looks awesome,” he praised honestly. “Now for the hard part.”

His cock jumped in his boxers at the word hard, as if to say it was already there.

Daria moved to the side, and Truth reached across the counter for the blue dough he’d previously rolled out. This part was a little tricky, and he admitted as such out loud.

When he flipped the blue dough on top of the purple, landing it perfectly, his chest puffed up in pride. He couldn’t help it. Daria was watching and paying attention to every move like she was in a class and he the instructor. So what if he wanted to show off a bit?

“Now all we have to do is roll them together, let them chill, and then tomorrow morning we can slice the cookies out and bake them.”

“That wasn’t so hard,” she teased with a grin.

I am, he wanted to say.

Instead, he shrugged and began rolling the dough into a log, starting with tiny, gentle movements. His fingers worked fast as he started at one end of the roll and moved up the length of the dough, making sure it stayed as even as possible.

“There,” he announced, wrapping the log of dough in the plastic and rolling it on the counter a few times, the ends pinched like the thing was a giant piece of candy.

“And done,” he finished, sliding it into a space in the fridge and shutting the door.

Dusting his hands off, he turned to find Daria staring at him, her blue eyes bright. Then her lips twitched and she tapped her cheek. “You’ve got a little something…”

Truth wiped at his left cheek and glanced down at his palm to see if he’d rubbed it off. He glanced back up to ask as such, but Daria was suddenly right before him, her dainty palm reaching up and cupping his cheek. Her thumb caressed the swell, and he recognized the gritty sensation of flour over his skin.

He couldn’t help but tease her. “If you think I’m bad, you should see yourself.”

Her brows twitched down and she immediately glanced to her left, checking out her reflection that was bright and clear in the kitchen window, since it was already darkening outside.

“Oh my God, I am a mess,” she hissed, swiping at her cheeks.

“I think you look beautiful,” he said, the truth of his statement reaching across the space between them like a warm caress.