Free B00VQNYV1Y (R) by Maisey Yates

generous amount and slathering it over what would be the bottom layer of this chocolate cake. It was only a tester size. If she liked the way it held up, the way it tasted and the way it looked, then it would move forward to actual wedding cake size.
    “What are you doing out here?”
    She looked up and saw Luke standing in the doorway, his voice rough from sleep, his body essentially bare except for a pair of tight, black briefs.
    She was never going to get tired of looking at his body. His broad chest, slim waist, narrow hips. And his thighs. Mercy. She imagined they got a good workout from him squatting down to work on cars all the time. It showed. She’d never realized that men’s thighs could be a thing. They were absolutely a thing. At least, his thighs were.
    She held up her spatula. “Frosting cake.”
    “I see that.” He walked closer to her, and her heart shimmied up into her throat. “But that means you weren’t there when I woke up.”
    “You’re getting used to this change awfully quickly.”
    “Don’t you like it?”
    She turned back toward the cake, her cheeks flushing. “Yes.”
    He wrapped his arm around her waist, pressing his palm flat against her stomach, kissing the curve of her neck. “Why did that sound so much like a complaint?”
    “It wasn’t.” She shivered as his hand drifted down beneath the waistband of her pants, his fingertips sliding across her clitoris. “Oh…”
    “If you would’ve stayed in bed, do you see what might’ve happened?”
    “Can’t it happen now?” she asked, her voice morphing into a needy whimper.
    “I don’t know. I feel like it violates a lot of health codes.”
    “These are just sample cakes. No one’s going to eat them.”
    “Still. Rules are rules. You don’t get naked in kitchens…”
    She craned her neck back to look at him. “You don’t get naked with your friends anywhere.”
    “I guess you make a good point there. We’re already breaking the rules.”
    “Broken. Smashed. Might as well keep going.”
    “I don’t know if I trust you,” he said, his breath hot on the tender skin of her neck. “I think your judgment might be impaired.”
    She arched her back, pushing her butt, grinding against his arousal. “No more than yours, I imagine.”
    His breath hissed through his teeth. “Maybe.”
    He reached past her, to the bowl of frosting, taking her spatula out, then bringing it back toward them, brushing her hair to the side, sliding the soft, silicon edge along her skin, leaving a thick layer of icing behind.
    “What are you –”
    His tongue followed the path he just forged with the spatula, licking her skin clean. “Delicious,” he said.
    This was the dirtiest thing she’d ever done. Dirtier than any fantasy she’d ever had. And she was doing it with Luke. In her kitchen.
    That nice Shuller boy, as her grandma had always called him, had a filthy imagination. And Melanie liked it a lot.
    “I need that for the cake,” she said.
    “You said no one was going to eat it.” He dipped the spatula back in the bowl, gathering another dollop of frosting. “I would rather eat you anyway.” He gripped her hips with one hand, turning her so that her back was pressed against the counter, then with one fluid motion he wrenched her T-shirt over her head, exposing her breasts to him. “Perfect.” He dragged the spatula in a straight line across her bare skin, from her collarbone on down, then across more sensitized skin. He put the spatula back down on the counter, holding her hips tight, so tight it was almost painful, but she liked it.
    He lowered his head, tracing her collarbone with the tip of his tongue. “You still worried about the cake?”
    “What cake?”
    He chuckled, continuing his exploration of her body, continuing to lap the frosting from her skin. He paused at her breast, sucking her nipple in deep, looking up, his eyes meeting hers. Her stomach tightened painfully, desire building low and deep. He repeated the