He reaches in his back pocket, pulls out his wallet and hands it to me. I flip it open and stare at his license, which of course contains a picture of him looking annoyingly good. Who the hell takes a good driver’s license photo? Focusing on his birthday, I confirm what he has just revealed to me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, handing him back his wallet as we walk into his building. His hand rests on my lower back as he walks me toward the elevators, nodding politely at the people we pass.
“I just did,” he replies, pulling me into the elevators and pressing the tenth floor button. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my body against his as we ride up to his floor. His scent fills my lungs and I swoon.
“But you should have told me sooner. I would have made you a cake. It’s what I do, you know.”
His hands grip my waist as he presses quick kisses into my hair. “Well, you can make me a cake now.” The doors open and he quickly pulls me with him down the hallway and into his condo. Jeez, is he in a rush?
Flipping on the lights, I follow behind him as he sets his keys down on the counter and walks into the kitchen. I slip out of my heels, set my purse down, and begin rummaging through his cabinets, praying for ingredients.
“Do you have any flour?” I ask as he closes the fridge and hops up onto the counter. Unscrewing the cap, he takes a sip of his water and looks to be in deep thought, his eyes staring at the cabinets. “You’re in my spot,” I say as I watch him with amusement.
“Umm, no. I don’t think I have any flour. And yes, I am in your spot. But it’s my birthday, so I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.” He smirks at me and I give it right back to him, turning and glancing up on a high shelf.
“Can you reach me the Bisquick please?” I ask as I open the fridge and pull out the eggs. He hands it to me with a kiss and hops back up.
“Are you making me birthday pancakes?”
I pull out a bowl and grab a fork. “Nope, I’m making you my four ingredient banana cake that I used to whip up in college. Juls and I roomed together and I would create desserts out of whatever crap we had lying around. Bisquick was always on hand because she’s a breakfast junkie.” I grab the sugar bowl and set the oven temperature. “You’ve given me little choice here. I’d be set if I wanted to make you a cake made out of ramen noodles and chunky soup.” He watches me intently as I mash up the banana and begin mixing the ingredients together in the bowl, occasionally glancing up and seeing him studying me. He always seems so fascinated by whatever it is I’m doing, and I wonder if he looks at every girl like this. Ugh. The thought makes me whip the eggs viciously.
“So you’re thirty-two today,” I state, sucking the batter that has splashed up onto my knuckle off with a soft moan.
“I am.” My eyes go to his and he winks. “I’m six years older than you now. Does that bother you?”
His question baffles me, so I decide to really give it some thought. Our age difference doesn’t bother me at all. If he was ten years older than me, I wouldn’t care. Scrunching up my face and thinking hard, I see his grin widen as he waits for me, a soft breathy laugh escaping him. I shake my head. “Nah, but that’s mainly because you act half your age.” His eyebrow arches. “Besides, I have a thing for older men.” Tipping the bowl, I pour the cake batter into his one and only baking dish and shuffle it to even out the distribution.
He hops down and comes up behind me, his hands spreading across my stomach. “Do you? I had no idea,” he says as he pulls my hair over one shoulder and kisses down my neck. I close my eyes and grip the baking dish tightly. Lord, this man knows how to wind me up in no time.
“Well, I have a thing for you,” he growls into my ear, his hands sliding up the front of my dress and molding to my breasts. My head falls back against his shoulder and I groan. “I need to put this in the oven.” He grumbles in protest but finally steps back, allowing me to place the dish into the oven and set the timer.
“Okay, birthday boy, you’ve got twelve minutes to play with me until it’s ready.” I turn to see his wicked grin and he wastes little time, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the living room. Stopping in front of the couch, he pulls me into his arms and runs his hands up my spine as his face drops to bring our lips together. He opens my mouth with his and snakes his tongue around mine, coaxing me to move with him and I obey. My hands fumble with his tie, loosening it and dropping it to the floor as his mouth assaults mine, teasing and tasting every inch of me. I feel his arm muscles flex around me and then the sound of a loud rip comes from behind me as the fabric of my dress is torn from my body.