Page 60 of Untying the Knot
“Nice day out, isn’t it?” I lean against the counter, hands behind me, and thrust my breasts toward the air.
“Yup,” he answers in a clipped tone, which makes me laugh. He moves toward the island where I’m stationed and where the éclairs are. “Is there a reason you’re still in here?” His head is tilted down, not looking in my direction.
“Thought I’d soak up the smell of the éclairs since I can’t have any. And since this is a neutral space, I’m allowed to be here. Why, do you have a problem with my naked breasts?”
He glances up, his eyes landing on my chest as he lifts an éclair to his mouth and takes a large bite. After chewing for a moment, he says, “You know I have no problem with your tits.”
“Okay, just making sure.” I turn and lean on the counter so my boobs are pressed together. “Wouldn’t be fair if your ass was out and my tits weren’t. A little tit for tootie, you know?”
He takes another bite of the éclair, but this time, he moans while chewing.
My eyes narrow.
“This fucking pudding. So creamy, fuck, I could lick at it . . . all . . . goddamn . . . day.” And then he takes his tongue and slips it inside the éclair and then back out. In . . . and out.
In.
And.
Freaking out.
The motherfucker.
My body immediately heats from the base of my spine all the way up past my neck and to my ears. There are three things about this man I don’t think I will ever get over. His ass, his tongue, and his dick.
And he knows it.
And he’s using it to his advantage.
Sure, my tits are lethal, but they are no match for his tongue. Not even close.
“Too bad you can’t have any,” he says as he drags his tongue along the chocolate now.
“Yeah, a shame,” I answer.
He sucks on the pudding now, making a slurping sound that makes my nipples hard. I imagine it’s my clit he’s sucking on, my nipples he’s pinching between his fingers, and not that stupid pastry.
“Your face is flush. Anything bothering you?” he asks with a smirk.
I stare at him, my irritation ramping up. “You’re an ass.”
“I wasn’t the one who started this. You were.” He dips his fingers in his mouth where he sucks on them, making apopnoise when he drags them past his lips.
“Yeah . . . well . . .” My eyes fall to the éclair, then back up at him.
His eyes track mine.
I glance down again as he stands tall, realization hitting him.
“Don’t you dare,” he says right before I swipe an éclair off the cooling rack and bolt toward my room, squealing the whole time.
“Myla!” he shouts as he chases after me.
What a sight I’m sure we are. Me topless, sprinting for the shelter of my room, his apron flapping in the breeze as his ass hangs out the back, chasing after me, his powerful thighs closing the space between us.
“Ahhhhh,” I scream as I’m feet away from my room, so close, yet I’m snagged around the waist by one powerful arm and pulled back into a strong, apron-covered chest.
“Drop the éclair.”
