I want this woman.
It’s like she’s hit me with cupid’s arrow and now she’ll be buried deep inside me forever. Her reaction is so calm and tame, unlike Kelsey. “Right now, honey, you don’t need some fancy title. You’re amazing all by yourself.”
“Are you flirting with me, Hayden?” Featherlight fingers land on my chest.
“I’m supervising the baking.”
“Well, l think things are about to get messy.” She taunts me with those long black lashes and the tip of her wicked tongue as it journeys between her lips, coating them with all things sexy and wet.
My hand finds its way to the ends of hair hanging over her chest, so silky and shiny. It’s like I'm in a trance as she looks up at me. I tug the tips gently, wishing I could lose control and wrap the lengths. She inches a bit closer, giving me something more to hang onto, if I want to. And I do, I want to hold on to her, to kiss her and more than that. I implore myself to allow this to happen. She lifts higher, her mouth so close that my mind goes fuzzy.
I’m well aware of the muffled sound from the television next door and the quick pulse in the soft curve of her delicate throat. There’s a buzz in the room, sparking between us. It’s unbearable, if I’m honest. The haze of her perfume will always be ingrained in my senses, filled with regret for the move I’m not going to make.
“Summer…” My voice is low and thick. She hums her response, like she’s wishing for the connection to bring her alive. “You should fire up the oven, so the temperature is even by the time you’re ready to put the cookies in.”
The ball in her throat bobs, and her chin lowers slowly. It takes every drop of discipline to let go of the silky strands. I need to slow this down, or I will not be able to resist the come hither look in her big eyes. “I’ll make you another coffee. I’m sure my dad is gonna want something to drink also. He’s watching the television, in there.” I nod to the door, hinting that we’re not alone.
“Okay,” she whispers breathlessly. “I’ll crack on with the oats, and you can make the drinks.”
I stave the urge to kiss her again by standing tall, so her lips are even further away. It doesn’t help much, especially when I watch her retreat back to the table with that ass of hers swaying side to side. I don’t think; I rush up behind her. My palms rest on her petite shoulders, and my mouth drops to the fleshy pad of her ear. “We’ll make the best fucking cookies together, honey, and the next thing you know, we’ll be picking fights and slamming doors.”
Summer spins around, gazing up at me with a hotness bordering on anger. “Hayden…”
That accent tips my resolve. The way her voice reconfigures the sound of my name. I’ve never heard it pronounced that way before, and I fucking love it. My lips descend, and I kiss her, hard.
It’s a savage, punishing kiss that fuses are lips as one. I know it's wrong, but she tastes so good, so right. Our breathing mingles, our lives connected by this one powerful moment of lust. My eyes are closed, heightening my senses.
I savor the smell of her skin.
I memorize the vibration of her soft moans.
I breathe in the life she feeds me.
This is fucked up. I have to shut my mind off and get my shit together. Her hands drift up my torso, and all I hear is my father's damn voice. “Hayden, are you going to bring me a beer before I die of thirst here?”
Summer flinches and I instantly rip my mouth from hers. She’s panting and I notice her fingers move to my hands, interlinking our fingers. “Beer.” That's all I can say because her eyes are silently pleading with me to keep going, to take her back to heaven.
“We’ll never get the cookies made at this rate. Sawyer will shoot my boots off me if I bring you home late.” I don’t want to push her away, but nothing good will come of the strong reaction stirring in my chest like a cyclone.
She just nods, with a half defeated, half understanding smile. “Cookies.”
I adjust the hard on in my jeans and stroke the edge of her jaw. “There’s something about you, honey. You make it hard for me to think straight. I do things that I’m not meant to do. I’m never like this.”
A love song fills the room, blending with the scent of home and her. I gather Summer’s small hand in mine and press her palm to my heart. With my other arm, I tug her close, absorbing the way her cheek instantly falls to my chest. As the rhythm beats through us, we sway ever so slightly. The height of her ponytail nudges my nose as I inhale Summer Brady into my life. We move together, no questions, no expectations, just fate roping us together.
Hank strolls into the kitchen, and my hand drops.
“I’ll get my own damn beer. I don’t smell baking. You two aren’t cooking up anything else in here, are ya?”
I want to growl. He knows exactly what game he’s playing. “You’ll get your cookies, Dad.” I drop her hand.
“Before I die of starvation?” He throws me a snark brow lift.
Summer revolves on the spot and begins to tip ingredients into the large ceramic bowl. I reluctantly move away, combing my finger through my hair. The fridge door shuts. The wooden spoon hits the bottom of the bowl. My dad’s voice ruptures the lust thickening the air around us as I just hitch a hip on the counter, watching the two of them interact. Summer laughs lightly, and my dad hands her a teaspoon.
Too many cooks in the fucking kitchen.
I shake my head and take a long swig of beer. It was better this way. My hands are under control, one clasping a beer and the other pocketed, but my heartbeat is the rebellious one. It’s the one thing neither of them can see.
