“This?” he asks, glancing down and taking in his tight pants. “You did that.”
“Yeah, but unless you want that seen by my brother and his date in about four seconds, you better will that thing into submission. Think about your grandma or something.”
He snorts out a laugh, adjusting his pants. “I don’t have a grandma.”
“Well, think of someone fast, or else you’re about to scar my brother for life.”
He laughs, walking over and placing a kiss on my nose. “My cock won’t be scarring him nearly as much as your tousled hair, swollen lips, and nipples pressed against your shirt, begging to be sucked.”
Just as I gasp and glance down, confirming that my nipples are very much a part of this conversation, my brother pushes through the back door with Dana, causing me to turn away to hide.
It’s Jasper’s laughter that follows me as I make a quick escape into the bathroom until my nipples decide to behave themselves.
Yeah, fat chance of that happening.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jasper
“Hey, guys, good to see you again,” I say after watching Lyndee retreat into the small employee bathroom on the opposite side of the kitchen. I lean forward against the island to cover my erection, knowing it’s quickly deflating now that we’re no longer alone. “How was dinner?”
“So amazing,” Dana coos, her hand tucked in Dustin’s arm. “The Ride A Cowboy Burger was perfect.”
“I’m glad,” I reply, looking at Lyndee’s brother. I can tell already he’s aware that something was going on in here. He’s smirking, his eyes darting around, as if looking for confirmation.
“Where’s Lyn?”
“Oh, she had to use the restroom. She’ll be out in a minute.”
“You guys baked the cake,” he notices, using his walker to go over and check them out. “Cherry Chip is her favorite.”
“I can’t wait to try it.”
“You’ll be there for it tomorrow, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I tell him as the bathroom door opens.
“Hi, guys,” Lyndee greets, a too-wide smile on her face. “How was dinner?”
“Excellent,” Dana replies.
When she stops beside me, she asks, “What wouldn’t you miss?”
“Cake tomorrow night.”
“You don’t have plans? It’s Christmas Eve.” Her brown eyes find mine and hold a touch of hesitance.
I shrug. I go to my folks’ place on Christmas Day, but that’s it. “I always work Christmas Eve. We close the kitchen down at seven and the bar at eight. I should be out around then. You don’t have to wait for me, but I’d love to join the celebration when I get home.”
Home.
I never thought I’d be comfortable talking about my place and a woman being there, waiting for me, but surprisingly, I am. Not the first time I’ve realized this, but it still doesn’t freak me out.
“We usually just do takeout on Christmas Eve, since Lyn cooks on Christmas Day,” Dustin informs me. “We can hold off until you get home. Seems more fitting to have you there anyway.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat. “Don’t wait on me for dinner, though. You should eat whenever you’re ready.”
Dustin glances at Dana. “Would you like to come over for dinner and cake?” Then seeming to realize it’s not his house, he glances my way and adds, “If you’re okay with that.”
“Of course, I am. Dana, or anyone else, is welcome while you’re staying with me. My place is your place.”
He nods and glances at his date. “Actually, we were thinking about going back to your house and grabbing a cup of coffee…if that’s okay.”
“My home is your home. You don’t have to ask.”
“Thank you, Jasper,” Dana adds, glancing to Dustin. “And I’d love to join you tomorrow, as long as you’re okay with my dropping by on your birthday.” She looks at Lyndee, who seems surprised to be asked for permission.
“I’d love for you to be there.”
“Great. I think we’re going to go and let you two decorate that cake. I can’t wait to try it. It looks amazing,” Dana says, moving to where Dustin stands.
“See you at home,” he hollers on his way out the door, offering a wave before they disappear.
Lyndee heads over to the cakes and slips them in the freezer. “What are you doing?” I ask, completely mesmerized by her movements.
“Putting them in the freezer helps them cool faster. Plus, cold cake works better for frosting. If it’s too fresh or warm, it’ll peel the top of the cake off.”
I head her way, dipping my finger in the buttercream as I pass. “So, what you’re saying is we have a little time.”
Her grin borders on shy, but quickly tips into seductive. “A little. Why, what’d you have in mind?”
I slide that finger across her lips, and then lick it off, savoring the sweet taste of the frosting and that of Lyndee’s mouth. “Delicious.” Then I move my hands to her head and devour. I could kiss her hot mouth all day, every day. She’s seriously the sweetest thing ever.
Pinning her against the island, I reach down and lift, loving the way her legs automatically wrap around my waist once more. I can feel the warmth of her pussy permeating through her pants, and all I want to do is feel it cloak my dick.
“Are we going to be interrupted anymore?”
She shakes her head, her fingers gripping the back of my neck. “We’re completely alone.”
I step back, leaving her sitting on the island, and move to make sure the back door is locked. I reach down and tug my shirt out of my slacks, lifting it up and over my head before I’ve returned to where I left her.
“Will you remove that door stop?” she asks, pointing to the little triangle of rubber holding open the swinging door that separates the front room from the kitchen.
I kick the stop, leaving it lie where it lands, and return to the woman who has my blood humming and my dick harder than concrete. I step between her knees, her legs automatically wrapping around me. She reaches for me, her nails dragging lazily down my back as I explore her mouth with my tongue.
The kiss quickly turns rapacious, and I need more. I need her naked, riding my cock and screaming my name. I dig in my pocket and remove the condom I shoved in there earlier. No, I wasn’t sure it would be needed, but a man can hope.
And I was hoping like hell.
Lyndee reaches down and removes her shirt, setting it on the cold metal behind her. Then she reaches for me, grabbing at my belt and ripping it from my pants with urgent fingers. My own hands, lacking any and all finesse, tug at the button of her pants until it pops off. “Shit,” I mumble, chuckling.
“I don’t care,” she replies, lifting her hips as I slip down the zipper.
“I can sew it back on for you later,” I tell her, catching the look of surprise on her face.
“You sew?”
I shrug, removing her panties too, as I bring the pants down her legs. “My grandma taught me when I was younger.”
“I thought you didn’t have a grandma,” she says, setting her butt back down on the island once her pants reach her ankles. The cold steel causes her to squeal and jump.