He doesn't say anything else. He just gives me that smug smile and steps away, putting space between us, and I feel myself breathe again. "See you later, cupcake."
I walk toward the front of the store, the throbbing between my legs painfully insistent. "Don't say a word," I advise Opal before she even opens her mouth.
She follows me into the kitchen and stands there looking at me, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "It's none of my business, but –"
I interrupt her before she can go on. "You're right that it's none of your business."
"Don't get sassy with me just because you're frustrated."
My face flushes warm. I yank the freezer door open and pull out the cake I'm working on, grateful for the ice-cold air that hits my body. I need a cold shower. Or to stand in this freezer for a while. "I'm not frustrated," I yell.
When I come back out of the freezer, Opal gives me a look. "You haven't been on a date since you moved here."
"I've hardly been in this town long enough to go on a date."
Opal snorts. "When's the last time you went on a date before that?"
"That's irrelevant." I begin rolling out fondant. "I have a child."
"So you're not allowed to date for the rest of your life?"
"I'm not interested in dating that guy," I protest.
"I wasn't suggesting you date him,” she says, looking over her shoulder as she pushes open the swinging door. Then she winks.
I can hardly believe Opal just suggested I hook up with that man. The idea is ridiculous, and not just because he's an arrogant ass. And not just because I'm a parent of a seven-year-old who doesn't need to get romantically involved with anyone. Or because I'm a new business owner who needs to focus on her business. It's ludicrous because I've had a grand total of two sexual partners in my life: my dead husband and a less-than-satisfying one-night stand three years ago. Dating is not anywhere on the horizon for me, and hooking up with someone isn't even in the realm of possibilities.
No matter how wet it made me when he whispered in my ear.
I want to hear you moan it.
Arrogant ass.
8
Killian
My heart is pounding in my chest as I back out of my parking spot in front of Lily's store. "Pounding" isn't even the right word for it. It's fucking hammering its boom-boom-boom in my chest, seconds from exploding. I drive down Main Street and out of town like I'm being chased by the cops, adrenaline coursing through my veins as if I'm fixing to fight someone.
Except fighting is the last thing I want to do. My dick is rock hard, pressing against the zipper of my jeans and aching for Lily. I had a damn hard-on in that store of hers the second she said my name. When the hell has that ever happened before?
Never is the answer. I've never gotten a boner from some chick just saying my name.
It's the way she said it – breathy, like she was whispering it as I put my tongue between her legs, her hands gripping my hair and pulling me against her.
I had to hightail it out of the store before I put my lips on hers again. I bet she thinks I'm a total jackass for telling her I wanted her to moan my name, but hell, that was the honest truth.
My tire goes off the edge of the road and I right it again. I think all the blood in my body is between my damn legs right now.
I don't even make it inside the house. The second I pull into the driveway and turn off the ignition, I push the seat back and unbutton my jeans.
"Killian." Lily stands inches away from me, her face upturned. Her tongue flicks over her lower lip as she looks at me, and I don't wait for her to say anything else. When I cover her mouth with mine, she moans.
She moans into my damn mouth.
I spit into my hand, closing my eyes and resting my head against the seat as I stroke my hard cock. I practically groan at the sensation, even more so when I picture Lily in my head.
The bakery is empty. No customers. The windows are wide open and I don't give a shit. I flick open the button on her jeans and yank them over her hips. The instant my fingers go between her legs and find her wetness, she moans again, louder this time. I pull my lips away, my eyes searching hers for any sign that she doesn't want this. But she grips my biceps, her fingertips digging into my skin as I thrust my fingers inside her tight wet *.
"Oh my God, Killian." Her voice is breathy, just like before. Her hand moves to my jeans and I shake my head.
"Not yet," I growl. I want her to come on me. I want to make her moan my name, right here, right now, gripping my arms as I plunge my fingers inside her. I want her to wrap her thighs around my head as I bury my tongue between her legs. I want her tight wet * on my cock.
But more than anything, I want to make this girl come. Over and over.
I picture her lips forming my name as I stroke my cock faster and faster, the pre-cum dripping from the tip as a series of images flashes in my head like a movie reel.