stare.
“Brandon’s cinnamon swirl coffee cake. It’s my favorite. He only makes it on Tuesdays. I thought you might like one.”
“That was thoughtful,” I murmur with a small smile.
“I have my moments,” he says before tossing the pastries onto my desk. I blink and then his hands are cradling my head, titling my face up so that he might reach my lips. I stifle a moan when his mouth meets mine, my body leaning into his instinctively. Without thinking, I open up for him. When his tongue grazes mine, he moans, dropping a hand to the small of my back to draw me even closer.
Somewhere, in the back of my head, I remember that there is a narrow window just beside my door—a window anyone could look through and see us right now as we suck, lick, taste. Somewhere, in the back of my head, I know that this isn’t professional in the slightest—but I don’t care. I can’t care. I’ve missed him.
Fuck. I’ve missed him?
When I reach up and circle my arms around his neck, I accept the fact that he’s managed to steal another fraction of my heart. Him being here, going out of his way to search for me and find me, to bring me his favorite pastry, it's the kindest thing any man has done for me in a very long time.
And this kiss— Jesus , this kiss!
The small voice in the back of my head reminds me that I’m not allowed to fall for him—not anymore than I already have. I can’t keep him. He won’t stay. When he finally leaves, I have to be able to keep my shit together, which means he can’t have my heart.
With all my might, I latch onto that truth and force myself to pull my face away from his. I gasp, surprised by how breathless I feel, and watch as he runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he attempts to catch his own breath.
“Have I told you, yet, how fucking hot you look right now?” he murmurs, his hands sliding down until they rest against the top of my backside. “I wouldn’t learn shit in your class.” I grin at him as I shake my head. “Do you always wear pants to work, doll face?”
“No,” I mutter, scrunching my brow in confusion. “Why?”
“Because,” he speaks softly, dipping his head to kiss my neck. “Your pants make it kind of hard to do what I wish to do to you right now. Maybe next time I drop by, I’ll be in luck.” He licks his way to my ear and then nibbles on my earlobe, making me shutter. Laughter rumbles from his chest as he gives my ass a squeeze and then pulls away from me completely.
I clear my throat, running my fingers through my hair as I try and get control of my damn pussy. I can’t believe he just said that. Now I’m wet and wanting and he’s—he’s sitting on my desk, eating a cinnamon swirl coffee cake. He smirks at me when I look over at him and holds out the bag with the remaining treat inside. I snatch it away from him and plop down in my chair. Reaching inside, I pinch off a bite and drop it on my tongue as I look back over at him.
This time, I don’t even try holding back my moan. It tastes even better than it smells.
“Good, huh?” I nod, breaking off another bite. “I knew you’d like it. And—speaking of food, I thought I’d let you pick where you wanted me to take you to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah,” he says with a cool shrug. “I don’t really know what you like. What’s your favorite restaurant?”
I pause for only a moment, but it doesn't take me long to come up with my answer. “Giuseppe’s.”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he chokes on his bite of cake at the sound of my answer.
“What? You have something against Italian cuisine?”
He pounds his chest and clears his throat as he shakes his head at me. “Italian blood runs in my veins, baby. I practically grew up on Italian cuisine. I just—I don’t know. I didn’t expect for you to say that.”
“I grew up in Jersey. There was this one Italian restaurant I would go to a lot. It’s one thing I actually miss about home.
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