“Well.” I turn to Wyatt. “I’m going to be here a while, so if you want, I can call you when I’m done?”

Making a thousand cupcakes is going to take me all night.

“I’m not leavin’. I’m your assistant,” he announces.

“No.”

“Yup.”

“I don’t have time to show you what to do, Wyatt,” I try to explain. “I need to work quickly.”

He chuckles. “Then you better hop to it, Big City.”

I start to familiarize myself with the bakery. Not that I really know my way around For Cup’s Cake either, but this is crazy. With Wyatt’s help, I find all the ingredients and start to arrange them.

God I hope I don’t screw this up.

“Okay.” I sigh and then consider the most efficient way to do this. This shop has two side-by-side convection ovens. They’ll definitely be able to accommodate large batches. “I can do this.”

“I never had a doubt,” Wyatt encourages. “What do you need me to do?”

He stands at the metal table, waiting for instructions. I dish out some things he can do to help. They are small, tedious tasks, but I really suck at measuring, so I hope to God he’s better at it than I am.

I grew up learning how to cook with a little of this and a smidge of that. When Presley introduced me to baking in college, what I made was not all edible.

In fact, most was awful.

After Presley taught me that baking wasn’t just a little of this and throw some of that in, I got better . . . or maybe I got used to tasting things that weren’t edible.

Wyatt and I work together, laughing as we assemble things. He makes the batter, and I handle the frosting. Before too long, we’re sliding trays in and out like a well-oiled machine. We may actually pull this off.

We’re on the last batch when Wyatt breaks my concentration away from decorating a row of cupcakes. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be this messy.”

I look around at the kitchen we trashed. “Definitely not! My baker would kill me if she saw this.”

I turn around to grab the next batch I need to frost, but Wyatt is suddenly behind me. “Shit!” I yell as I almost drop the tray.

He laughs. “That was close.”

Wyatt steps into me, and I’m between his hard body and the cold metal table. “It is close.”

“Close isn’t always bad.” His eyes soften.

No. It definitely isn’t.

He takes the tray from my hands and slides it on the table, grabbing one of the frosted cupcakes. I watch the wicked gleam in his eyes as he lifts it between us. “Try it.” He puts it to my lips.

I’m not going to lie, it smells amazing in here, and I’ve wanted to taste them. I don’t hesitate before I lean forward a bit and lick the icing. My eyes close, and I can’t help but to hum my approval.

Wyatt’s hand tightens against my back. “Don’t make those noises, baby.”

My gaze connects with his heated eyes. When he looks at me like that, I want to forget all the rules. He’s insanely sexy. He’s looking at me like he wants to be the cupcake, and I sure as hell want him to lick me.

“Why not?” I tilt my head and lick my lips. I’m playing a dangerous game, and he’ll win. He hasn’t pushed, which is a good thing because I wouldn’t be able to resist. Wyatt is fire, and if it’s anything like we’ve had in the past, I’ll gladly take the burns.

“I know the rules,” he reminds me. “I won’t kiss you until you’re sure. But a man only has so much patience.”

I run my fingers up his chest. “Yeah?”

“You’re in my arms, sexy as you’ve always been, and I want nothing more than to make you feel good.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. He’s going to make me melt.

Who am I kidding? He already has. I want to play this game. I want him to beat me.

“What if we call a cease fire?” I offer.

The wicked smile that dances across his lips sends a shiver down my spine. This is going to be good. This is going to be really good.

“Would I be allowed to do this?” he asks as his lips press against mine.

“Mmm hmm.” My mouth doesn’t retreat, but he pulls back.

“What about this?” Wyatt’s hand cups my breast, and my head falls back. “Do you like when I touch you like this?”

“Yes,” I murmur.

“What about if I do that and this?”

I wait for something else, but nothing comes. I open my eyes and look at him as his other hand tangles in my hair. He guides my face to his, but I’m already there. His mouth touches mine, and then his lips open. His tongue glides against mine, making me lose all sense. He could ask me to strip down and then fuck me on the table and I’d let him.

This isn’t a cease fire. This is a surrender.

I’m waving the white flag.

Our tongues dance as his hand kneads my breast. He parts my legs with his knee, and the desire to rub against it is so high I succumb. I start to move, but he pushes me more securely against the table. I’m trapped, but I don’t want to be anywhere else.

Next thing I know, he’s lifting me up and pushing me backward so I’m sitting on the table. I hear the sounds of bowls clanking to the ground, but I don’t care. As long as his lips are on mine, I don’t care if the place is burning down.

He moves his hand from my breast and slides it lower. “I need more,” I beg. “Please.”

“Tonight is about you,” he insists. “I want to make you feel good.”

His lips are back against mine, kissing me breathless. I don’t know why I’m being so crazy about this. We’ve already done the deed. It’s just that I want to do things right if we can. However, that doesn’t mean we should keep fighting the attraction we feel. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

“Wyatt.” I tangle my hands in his hair as his lips move down my throat.

“That’s it, baby. Feel what I’m doing to you,” he encourages.

I feel it just fine, thank you very much. Thanks to the increased blood flow and his ridiculous sexiness, I feel everything in vivid detail. It’s been so hard not to beg him each night to touch me . . . I’m really glad I won’t have that problem now.

He lifts my shirt over my head and then pulls my bra off.

Our lips connect as we both give and take. His thumb and forefinger roll my nipple back and forth. Then his mouth breaks from mine, and his tongue glides across my neck before he licks around my nipple. “Yes.” I pant. “Yes,” I say again as he swipes across the pebbled peak.

Wyatt doesn’t make me wait. He starts to suck, causing me to writhe on the table. I had no idea that my breasts would be so sensitive, but everything feels heightened.

While continuing to lick, suck, and bite, his hand moves over my center. The pressure against my clit is too much. “Please don’t make me beg.” My voice is full of need.

“Never,” he says. He hooks his thumbs into the waist of my shorts, and I lift just enough for him to pull them down. My ass hits the cold metal, but I’m too hot to care. He pulls them off my legs, and I’m now completely naked while he’s completely dressed. I reach for his shirt, but he stops me. “You. This is about you.” He cups my cheek. “I’ve been good, but I won’t be able to stop myself if you touch me. I’ll want all of you.”