He glances over at his phone, which is propped up on his tripod. He reaches over to press record, then looks over at me.
“Are you ready to lick?” he says with that killer crooked smirk.
I giggle so hard, I have to lean back and cover my mouth with my free hand. Thanks to the whisky, I’m feeling more relaxed and more prone to laughing fits. When I catch my breath, I nod at him. “So ready to lick.”
A low chuckle falls from this mouth. Good lord, is everything this guy does ridiculously sexy?
I lick one side of the ice cream scoop stack while Gage licks the other. For the first few seconds, I have to hold back a laugh. This is so silly. And hilarious. Actually, it’s not that funny. It’s probably just because I’m tipsy.
A beat later Gage’s hot breath hits my lips…and my tongue. And then I freeze. My legs wobble the slightest bit. My mouth waters.
Holy…Whoa…
Okay, I had no idea that the act of air leaving someone’s lungs could be so damn sexy. But it is. And then I see it—his tongue.
Holy mother of god…
It’s long. Like, much longer than the average human tongue length. I’ve seen it plenty of times in his videos, but in person, it’s mesmerizing. And the way he moves it, slathers it along his side of the ice cream cone, makes me go hot between my legs. And then that telltale ache hits me in that exact spot.
What exactly is his tongue capable of?
The phantom pulse between my legs gives me a hint. If Gage can move his tongue that deftly on an ice cream cone, I bet he’s downright lethal when he kisses and does…other things.
Feeling Gage’s hot wet breath hit my skin and lips and tongueandseeing his tongue this close to my mouth has my imagination doing a filthy, filthy loop.
Plus, the sound he’s making. That low, faint grunt…
I force myself to play it cool, to take another slow lick of ice cream and blink and breathe. But then my filthy imagination takes hold. Suddenly the cone is gone, and Gage’s hands are on my waist, pulling me against his body. His hot, firm body. His mouth is parted, and he breathes in, then exhales, his hot breath all over my skin and lips.
In my imagination, he leans forward and runs his tongue along my bottom lip. And then he flashes that sexy smirk.
“You want a taste, Becca?” he growls. “Because I’m dying for a taste of you.”
And I know, without a doubt, he would taste a million times better than this triple scoop of mint chip…
Just then Gage quirks his head to the side, pulling me back into the moment. Eyes on me, he licks the smear of mint chip from his bottom lip. “How was that?” he asks.
“Great,” I squeak out.
“You think we need another take?”
I shake my head so furiously that I almost drop the ice cream cone. “Um, no. I think we got it.”
I stand there, hoping I don’t look as guilty as I feel. Because here’s Gage, focused on filming, on doing the best job possible to help me and my ice cream shop, while I’ve been mentally defiling him.
I clear my throat at least three times while he grabs his phone and shows me the footage.
I hold my breath as I watch it, hoping that my filthy thoughts aren’t playing out on my face. Luckily I played it off somehow. I look normal—or as normal as I could look licking a giant ice cream cone with Gage Grant three inches from my face.
“Here.” He takes the cone from me and sends me the footage. My phone buzzes. “You can upload it now if you want.”
I silently nod, my heart beating at a dizzying pace as I fumble with my phone. I quickly type the first caption that comes to mind.
How many licks does it take till you get to the good part?
I show it to Gage, who’s demolished half the cone. “Damn, that’s good. You’re a natural at this.”
He nudges my shoulder with his, which snaps me out of my stupor. Well, that was a decidedly friendly gesture—and the perfect reminder. I need to get it together. No more fantasizing about Gage. One, it’s creepy. And two, he clearly isn’t into me, seeing as he just nudged me.
