Gift Wrapped by Karla Doyle Page A

bottom of her shirt, straightening it when she’d far rather be pulling it off. “The only way I can successfully ‘make’ pudding is by peeling lids from plastic containers.”
    His grin stayed firmly in place as he opened cupboards and the refrigerator. One by one, ingredients appeared in a lineup beside her. Milk, eggs, butter, sugar, salt, vanilla, cocoa powder—a fancy kind, not the cheapie, no-name stuff she’d bought the time she attempted to make brownies.
    “That’s a lot of ingredients. My way of making pudding is easier. Faster too.”
    One very masculine eyebrow rose over serious, hazel eyes. “That packaged shit isn’t pudding.”
    “Always tastes like pudding to me.”
    “It won’t after tonight. You’ll never go back after having homemade.”
    “You’re really going to make me do this?” She sighed in semi-defeat, picked up an unmarked jar and waved it, giving it a double take when the powder didn’t budge. “I don’t even know what this is—all the white powders look the same to me.”
    Charming crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes. “They’re not. That one’s cornstarch.”
    “Fine.” She huffed while returning the cornstarch to the counter. “I hope you enjoy Cajun-style pudding, because I’ve never successfully made any other kind, not even from a box that says ‘just add milk.’”
    “There’s a first time for everything, babe.” He kissed her below her ear, in the shiver zone. “Are you ready for it?”
    * * *
    “What makes you so sure this time will be different?”
    Wasn’t that a hell of a good question. This time was different—for him. He’d had women over for a meal and after-dinner fun, but he’d never offered to share his kitchen with any of them. Not offered, insisted.
    Brinn didn’t want a cooking lesson, she wanted a tour of the house that started and ended with his bedroom. Yet here he was, delaying what would undoubtedly be a night of phenomenal sex…to make pudding. Had to be a side effect of the usual Christmas bullshit stress. Nothing more.
    He pushed the serious stuff to the back and focused on his incredibly sexy student. “First, you need a big pot.”
    “Oh, so the size of the equipment does matter.”
    “Sometimes bigger is better, yeah.” He grinned while reaching into a lower cupboard.
    She giggled as he put a long-handled heavyweight on the counter beside her. Pretty, a dirty mind and a sense of humor. All good.
    “This is nice and thick.” She slid her fist back and forth along the handle, making his cock throb jealously. “Are you going to show me how to use it?”
    “If you stop doing things like that to distract me, yes.”
    “I make no promises.”
    “Guess I’ll have to keep you busy following my directions.”
    She pressed her delectable tits against his chest. “Yes, please, master chef—tell me exactly what you want me to do.”
    That list would take all night. His brain was overflowing with things he wanted to do with Brinn. X-rated things that would make her moan his name. Fun things to make her blush and laugh. Hell, they might still be tackling his list come New Year’s Day. A week with Brinn. Not part of his original plan when he’d invited her over, but not the worst idea he’d had. He could do a week without getting too involved. But could she?
    Probably not, unfortunately.
    Back to tonight. “Measuring cups and spoons are in the drawer beside the fridge. So’s the big whisk, a wooden spoon and a rubber spatula.”
    “Is the wooden spoon for stirring, or for punishment when I screw up your fancy pudding?”
    And he’d just mentally added another item to his do-to-Brinn list. He delivered a firm smack to her sexy ass as an interim measure. “Now I’m half tempted to lead you astray during your lesson.”
    “Only half?”
    He groaned when she snuck her hand down the front of his jeans and curled her fingers around his cock. “Sixty percent. And rapidly rising.”
    “I’ll say.” She withdrew her