“I need to make sure you don’t back out and just toss it in the trash,” he said.
“If you’re only doing this to have spank-bank material later on…” I warned him.
“I’m insulted you would doubt my intentions,” he said, feigning affront.
I knew he wasn’t going to let it go. With a sigh, I parted my lips, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible.
Zain put the eclair to my mouth and I took a huge bite, knowing that he wouldn’t be satisfied if I only nibbled on the thing.
I chewed. His eyes were fixated on my mouth. I licked a bit of whip cream from my bottom lip. His pupils blew wide open, dark eyes turning midnight black.
The tiny part of me that had felt bad was now getting different thoughts. Naughty thoughts. The same thoughts I’d had during the baking class when he’d put his hands on my hips and I’d pressed my backside against him.
If this guy was so hard up for it, then fine. I’d give him something to remember.
I closed my eyes and let out a pleased sigh. I could hear him shifting in his seat.
I slowly licked a line along my bottom lip. His breathing stuttered.
I gave a satisfied moan as I opened my eyes. The look in Zain’s eyes was so intense it was almost feral.
I hummed one last contented noise. He visibly swallowed.
“How was it?” he asked, his voice almost hoarse.
I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. “Awful.”
He stared. Then he let out a chuckle. “You’re the one who’s awful.” A slow smirk crossed his face. “Don’t you remember me saying I’ll get you back the first time?”
A little thrill ran down my spine as heat rose up in his gaze. I couldn’t help but think of a dozen things he might do in retaliation to my teasing.
Naughty things.
Erotic things.
Zain put his hand on the stick shift, and pulled out of the lot we’d been parked in.
“Where are we going next?” I asked, my heart beginning to thump faster. He wasn’t going to actually take me home right now, was he?
“This is only stop number one on our list,” he said. “We’ve got another handful of places left to visit.”
I felt a vague pang of disappointment, then forced it down. It wasn’t like I really wanted this guy to take me home. I was only humoring him with this whole, as he called it, ‘shitty pastry tour’ thing. Sure, it was fun to tease him and banter with him, but that was all this was.
Spending that evening with him at the after-party had been fun — in the beginning. But what had happened later had just reminded me of all the reasons why I preferred a quieter life. The wholesex, drugs and rock ’n’ rollthing? Definitely not for me.
This time Zain drove us to the second lowest rated bakery in the city. It was in the complete opposite direction as the first one and, considering the time class had ended, I shouldn’t have been surprised that we got stuck in traffic.
“This is why I bike everywhere,” I told him.
He grunted and scowled at the stop-and-go-traffic in front of him.
“Glaring at the cars won’t make them go any faster,” I said.
“I know, I know,” he muttered. “I’m just not used to being stuck in traffic. I biked and walked everywhere for years, too, until I got this car.”
“I can’t imagine you on a bike.” I almost laughed at the mental image.
“We were struggling musicians for years,” he said. “None of us had rich parents to support us. We lived like poor, starving artists for a long time.”
