20. Charli #2
A flutter of hope bolsters my confidence. I scoot off the couch and pad to the kitchen to get out the ingredients.
He sits on one of the stools and watches me get everything ready. I busy myself with mixing the butter and sugar, then adding the vanilla and eggs. He concentrates on measuring the dry ingredients.
“Why did you give me the boring job?”
I set down the mixer and move closer to him, running my hand down his back to circle it around his waist, my breasts touching his arm. Tipping my face to his ear, I whisper, “This is teamwork.”
He laughs low in his chest and doesn’t pull away from me.
“Now add your flour mixture a little at a time, then mix it.”
“So bossy. Is this what you’re like at work?” he says over the hum of the mixer.
I step back to grab the chocolate chunks. “Once I train my employees in our procedures, I don’t need to be bossy.” I open the bag and pop a few pieces into my mouth.
He snorts at me.
I pick up another chunk. “Want one?”
He turns off the mixer and studies me, eyes heated, and his tanned skin flushed. “Only one?” he asks while returning to the stool.
“You can have more if you’re good,” I say before holding one up to his mouth.
He parts his lips for me as I place the candy on his tongue. “Just the right amount of sweetness.”
“Must be why these are your favorite,” I comment as I dump the chunks in and stir.
Absently, I stick my finger in and take a taste, licking it slowly off my finger.
“Mmm, tastes good like always.” And then I glance over at him.
He swallows hard but holds my eyes. “Do you want to try some too?” I lift my eyebrows.
“Yeah,” he mumbles. His jaw tics and his expression is restrained. His dark eyes are burning into me. It makes me shiver.
His hands stay glued to his strong thighs.
I dip my finger back in the batter and move closer to him, standing between his legs, my hips brushing him.
The heat from his body warms me. I rest my other hand high on his upper leg, and he clamps his hand over mine.
He opens his mouth and I insert my finger.
His lips lock down on me and his tongue swirls to suck off the batter as I slowly pull it back out.
A throb begins to pulse deep inside me. He licks his lips and then his jaw tightens.
He could have me right here on this counter, right now.
“So, what do you think? Is it good?” I want his mouth on me, all over my body. I hold his gaze, waiting for something.
“So fucking good.”
It's the perfect time to kiss me and nothing happens. I squeeze his leg and he flinches, pressing my hand flat so that I can’t move it.
Before it gets weird, I smile at him and turn towards the counter so that I can scoop out the batter onto the cookie sheet.
I look down and ask, “Can you put the oven on 375 for me?”
My heart is hammering in my chest and my hands are a little shaky. I’m so ready to go, if he would just make a move. I just put my finger in his mouth and he sucked the batter right off like a pro. If he doesn't do anything more, I’m just going to give up on him, and stay friends.
He stays frozen on the stool for a second and then coughs and walks over to the oven. “Uh, what temperature did you say?”
“Three-seventy-five.” That’s it, I give up. We just continue on like nothing happened, like he didn’t just have my finger in his mouth and that I didn't put it in there. He must think I’m such a weirdo. Fuck.
Later that night, we say goodbye at my door, but there’s no hug. Honestly, he can barely look me in the eyes. I feel like I’m on the verge of tears, or something.
He hesitates before leaving. “I know you said you just wanted to be friends and you knew I wanted more.”
I nod woodenly, embarrassed at my behavior.
“Have you changed your mind? Because you’re always touching me, you asked me to stay over and hold you in your bed, and tonight you fed me cookie batter off your finger.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I stand there frozen to the floor. I didn’t want it to be like this.
“I’m not sure what you want from me, but you’re wearing at my resistance. You can’t keep putting your hands on me if you only want to be friends.” He stands there waiting for my response.
I want to scream at him that I do want him, but nothing comes out of my mouth. I’m so stupid thinking I could flirt with him and it would work in my favor. It completely backfired. Why can’t I talk to him about how I’m feeling?
With a hurt look in his eyes, he turns and walks out the door without a backward glance.
It’s so easy to be with him. It would be so easy to fall for him too. But he’s going to be gone in a few months. And I’ll be here.
Later, I look at Annalise’s blog again as I lie in bed feeling sorry for myself.
He’s fine staying friends like I told him I wanted.
I need to just do it, take a solo trip. Seascape is my life; I have a business, family and friends here.
I can travel on my own when I want to go. It will be enough for me.
Down at the bottom of the page I see it, Super Hot Deal -only a few spaces left for our September trip to ICELAND!
Book Now to reserve your spot! Fucking Iceland.
I want to go. But, shit September is a bad time to be away from the shop.
Maybe Oliver can swing it though, if we plan ahead. I have to get out of here.