the heart of hell. Curbing his thirst for violence, he forced himself to stay where he was.
Watching her shifted his thoughts of aggression to ones of passion. From the graceful lines of her neck to the swell of her breast and the flare of her hips, the woman was a seductress. He wanted to take her into his arms, kiss her, undress her, make love to her. He wanted to learn everything about her, and more shocking, he wanted to share himself with her.
She nodded with satisfaction when she stepped back from the last layer, now smooth and white.
“You enjoy your work,” he said.
“It’s been awhile since I did the work by hand.” She smiled and shrugged. “Convenience and speed makes it easy to forget the pride of going old school.”
He still didn’t move, afraid if he did he’d keep her from finishing. “What’s the next step?”
“Decorate the individual layers—some of them will get an airbrushed paint job—then stack them before adding the finishing touch of icing borders.”
“How long will all of that take?”
“Depends on the cake. For this one, there’s about three hours of work left, if I don’t screw it up.”
Three hours. “And you told Paige you would finish the whole thing?”
“I did.”
“Three hours.” He wasn’t sure he could wait three hours to touch and taste her.
“Yes. Is that an issue? I told you I would be awhile.”
“You did.” He nodded. “But, yes, three hours is more time than I can wait.”
“Wait for what?”
Now he did move. He walked steadily toward her, watching her as he closed the distance.
He stood behind her, breathing slowly and itching to touch her. Her shoulders stiffened and then relaxed a second later when she looked over her shoulder and her lips parted on a sigh. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Kyle laid his palms over her shoulders and slid them over her shoulder blades. Changing the angle, he curved his fingers along her sides and continued the downward journey until his arms were fully extended and his hands framed her hips. Stepping closer, he moved his hands forward and rested them on her pelvis. Her warmth moved over him. Her scent, freshly mixed with icing and fondant, slipped into his senses.
He was close, but not close enough. He wasn’t as close as he wanted to be.
“Are you frisking me?”
He leaned forward and rested his forehead against the back of her head. He allowed his hands to run along her curves, memorizing the feel of her. “I wouldn’t mind uncovering your secrets.”
“I have no secrets.”
He turned her to face him. He thumbed her breasts, pressing gently against her nipples. “I’ve been watching you.”
“That’s not creepy.” But she leaned against him and sighed, telling him she wasn’t creeped out.
“You’re sexy, but when you work…” He bit his lower lip in an attempt to rein in his desire. “When you work, you turn into a siren.”
“Kyle.” She dragged his name out, turning it into a moan. She moved deeper into his space and his tenable grip on the reins of restraint slipped.
He pressed his lips to her neck and kissed her while he applied enough pressure to her pelvis to bring her body tighter against his. “The only way you could be sexier right now was if you were wearing only this apron.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“For both of us.” He pulled her shirt collar aside and nipped her shoulder.
“I’m okay with some danger,” she whispered as she reached between them and unfastened his belt.
Kyle lifted her in his arms and plopped her butt on the counter, where the fondant pieces she’d worked so hard to smooth to perfection surrounded her. “You really are a siren.”
“You wouldn’t think that if you heard me sing.” She unsnapped and unzipped his jeans and shoved them down. “Tell me you have a condom.”
“In my pocket.” He bent down and grabbed the wallet and phone from his pockets. Tossing them on the counter. Returning his attention to her, he pushed her long
Watching her shifted his thoughts of aggression to ones of passion. From the graceful lines of her neck to the swell of her breast and the flare of her hips, the woman was a seductress. He wanted to take her into his arms, kiss her, undress her, make love to her. He wanted to learn everything about her, and more shocking, he wanted to share himself with her.
She nodded with satisfaction when she stepped back from the last layer, now smooth and white.
“You enjoy your work,” he said.
“It’s been awhile since I did the work by hand.” She smiled and shrugged. “Convenience and speed makes it easy to forget the pride of going old school.”
He still didn’t move, afraid if he did he’d keep her from finishing. “What’s the next step?”
“Decorate the individual layers—some of them will get an airbrushed paint job—then stack them before adding the finishing touch of icing borders.”
“How long will all of that take?”
“Depends on the cake. For this one, there’s about three hours of work left, if I don’t screw it up.”
Three hours. “And you told Paige you would finish the whole thing?”
“I did.”
“Three hours.” He wasn’t sure he could wait three hours to touch and taste her.
“Yes. Is that an issue? I told you I would be awhile.”
“You did.” He nodded. “But, yes, three hours is more time than I can wait.”
“Wait for what?”
Now he did move. He walked steadily toward her, watching her as he closed the distance.
He stood behind her, breathing slowly and itching to touch her. Her shoulders stiffened and then relaxed a second later when she looked over her shoulder and her lips parted on a sigh. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Kyle laid his palms over her shoulders and slid them over her shoulder blades. Changing the angle, he curved his fingers along her sides and continued the downward journey until his arms were fully extended and his hands framed her hips. Stepping closer, he moved his hands forward and rested them on her pelvis. Her warmth moved over him. Her scent, freshly mixed with icing and fondant, slipped into his senses.
He was close, but not close enough. He wasn’t as close as he wanted to be.
“Are you frisking me?”
He leaned forward and rested his forehead against the back of her head. He allowed his hands to run along her curves, memorizing the feel of her. “I wouldn’t mind uncovering your secrets.”
“I have no secrets.”
He turned her to face him. He thumbed her breasts, pressing gently against her nipples. “I’ve been watching you.”
“That’s not creepy.” But she leaned against him and sighed, telling him she wasn’t creeped out.
“You’re sexy, but when you work…” He bit his lower lip in an attempt to rein in his desire. “When you work, you turn into a siren.”
“Kyle.” She dragged his name out, turning it into a moan. She moved deeper into his space and his tenable grip on the reins of restraint slipped.
He pressed his lips to her neck and kissed her while he applied enough pressure to her pelvis to bring her body tighter against his. “The only way you could be sexier right now was if you were wearing only this apron.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“For both of us.” He pulled her shirt collar aside and nipped her shoulder.
“I’m okay with some danger,” she whispered as she reached between them and unfastened his belt.
Kyle lifted her in his arms and plopped her butt on the counter, where the fondant pieces she’d worked so hard to smooth to perfection surrounded her. “You really are a siren.”
“You wouldn’t think that if you heard me sing.” She unsnapped and unzipped his jeans and shoved them down. “Tell me you have a condom.”
“In my pocket.” He bent down and grabbed the wallet and phone from his pockets. Tossing them on the counter. Returning his attention to her, he pushed her long
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