“You did a great job on the cake for Bryn and Caleb,” he mentions casually.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“I did. In fact, I mentioned you in an interview.”

“Me? Why?”

“It was one of those lame ‘so tell us about yourself’ interviews, and they wanted to know about Sam and I.” He cringes and looks half-pissed for a second. “The only thing I was willing to share was that we love your cupcakes. So, I hope it drums up business for you.”

I don’t know what to say. Leo Nash told an interviewer that he loves my cupcakes.

“Wow.”

He laughs and takes the box from me. “I hope that was okay.”

“Uh, I think cupcakes are on the house from now on.”

His eyes light up, but he still drops a twenty in the tip jar. “Sounds like a fair trade.”

“So much for free cupcakes,” I reply drily, eyeing the money in the tip jar.

“They’re worth it.” He shrugs and turns to leave, winking at me on the way out.

My heart might beat right out of my chest.

God, the man is just so…hot. Samantha Williams is one lucky woman.

I shake off my close encounter with the sexy Leo Nash and lock the door before putting cupcakes in boxes and cleaning up for the day.

My phone buzzes in my pocket with a text. I grin and dig it out, excited to see it’s from Matt.

How was your day?

I miss him. I haven’t seen him since he left my apartment Sunday night. Four whole days, which really isn’t that long, for crying out loud. He’s been busy working and sleeping and little else this week. But he’s managed to find time to send me messages, just checking in, and called me last night just after I’d climbed in bed to say good night.

I’ve already gotten used to having him in my world, and it’s only been a couple of weeks.

Slow. Closing up early. How was yours?

God, I’m such a… girl.

It’s been a long four days without you. Can you please come unlock the front door?

What? He’s at the front door! I race through the kitchen to see Matt leaning against the door, grinning at me. I run over and let him in.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” I lock the door and then launch myself into his arms.

He catches me easily, wraps my legs around his waist and kisses me long and hard as he carries me back into the kitchen. His body is tight. Energy is coming off him in waves. He’s edgy. Rough.

“Are you almost done here?” he asks.

“Yeah, I just have to get stuff ready for tomorrow. Shouldn’t take long.”

He sets me on my feet and kisses me once more, his hands fisted in my hair, before reluctantly letting me go and leaning his hips on the countertop.

I quickly clean the counters, stack my trays and take a quick inventory to make a mental list of what will be on tomorrow’s menu.

“Don’t take your apron off,” he commands quietly. His voice has that edge to it, the one he uses in the bedroom, and a chill moves through me as I look at him over my shoulder.

“Ever?”

“Four days without you, Nic. It’s been a motherfucker of a week, and I’m a bit on edge today.”

It’s a warning. He’s in full bossy dominant mode, and it’s such a damn turn-on I don’t know what to do with myself. I bite my lip and nod then turn back to the task at hand, if a bit off-kilter and shaky. Finally, when I’m finished, I face him, standing across the room, my hands at my sides, waiting for him to tell me what comes next.

It’s as natural as breathing, which is something I might want to ponder later, but all I can think about right now is that I’m happy to see him, and he needs me for this.

Whatever it is he’s about to do to me, do with me, I’ll give him freely.

“Come here,” he commands.

I obey, walking to stand just a few feet in front of him, my eyes trained on his.

“Undress but leave that apron on.”

“Can I lower it off my neck long enough to take my shirt off?” I ask, no sarcasm in my voice.

His eyes soften, but he doesn’t smile. “You may.”

I pull the loop of the apron over my neck, letting it hang at my waist so I can pull my shirt and bra off, then pull my pants and panties over my hips and down my legs. Just as I move to replace the apron around my neck, he interrupts me with, “You can leave it down.”

It falls out of my hands, and I’m standing before him, naked except for the apron wrapped around my waist.

His sea-blue eyes travel over me, hot and full of lust. His hands are clenching in and out of fists, itching to touch me, but he waits.

How he ever learned to be this patient, I have no idea. I’ve never been patient.

So this is slow torture.

Finally, he steps to me and drags his knuckles down my cheek before bending to kiss my lips. “This isn’t going to be soft or gentle, Nic. I don’t have that in me right now.”

“Okay.” Oh God, yes, please.

He takes both of my wrists in his hands, yanks me against him and kisses me again, the way he wants to. The way he needs to. With fire and control and need.

Suddenly, he turns me away from him and bends me over the stainless steel counter top. It’s cold against my breasts and torso, and I gasp when my flesh meets it. There’s no time to brace myself with my hands because Matt pulls them behind my back and ties them with my apron strings, making me immobile.