“And you’re amazing at what you do. A day off sounds like heaven, but I don’t want to miss anything at this stage. I learn so much just from observing.”
With a nod, she packs up her stuff. “I understand, Miss Van Buren. See you tomorrow.”
I’ve lost count of the times I’ve asked her to use my first name, but she refuses. The rest of the crew follows suit a few minutes later, and I lock up before heading toward the elevator, eager to get home.
Home.
The word sends a warm feeling through my chest. This could be our life, working down the hall from each other, spending the evenings sharing dinner and talking about the day, losing sleep because we can’t keep our hands to ourselves.
The reality of my duty tries to intrude on the fantasy, reminding me that my obligation to another man’s bed will hang over us every month, but I shove the thought into the mental hell hole from which it sprang.
The door to Sebastian’s studio is closed, and for once I’m glad he’s got a late client because it’ll give me time to prepare. An hour later, I’ve got a cake in the oven, made from scratch by following a recipe, and a dinner order put in to the kitchen.
While his birthday dessert bakes, I freshen up and slip on a silky knee-length dress, foregoing undergarments. Moving around the dining room to set the table, pussy bare underneath the flimsy material, gives me a naughty, sinful thrill.
Not long before he’s due home, everything is going according to plan. Candles wait to be lit in the dining room, dinner will arrive just before he does, and the cake is cooling on a rack in the kitchen. His favorite scent wafts off my skin—a unique blend of plumeria from back home. I’m in the middle of putting icing on the cake, and lamenting how lopsided it turned out, when Sebastian walks in.
With a startle, I whirl around to face him. “You’re early!”
“And you’ve been busy, I see.” He glances over my shoulder at the cake, half decorated and looking more than a little sad.
“I was trying to fix it.”
“It smells delicious.” He picks me up and sets me on the counter next to the birthday cake. “I want a taste.”
“Dinner hasn’t even arrived yet.”
“That’s okay. It’s my birthday, and I want to eat you first.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, frustrated to tears that my plans flopped. Literally. “I can’t even get the cake right.”
“It looks edible to me.” He presses his lips to mine, shutting me up for the moment.
But I still can’t let it go. “I wanted to make this night special for you.”
“Novalee.” The frame of his hands keeps me captive. “You’re here, which makes it perfect.” A sly grin darts across his mouth. “And that cake is plenty special.” Before I can defend myself, he scoops up some icing and smears it across my cheek.
I’m laughing when he kisses the sugary confection from my skin. “That isn’t what I had in mind when I made it.”
“Then our minds are on two different pages, because I want to lick this icing from every inch of your body.” His hand travels an inch up my thigh.
“What if I told you I’m not wearing any panties?”
“I’d say ‘thank you’ for the easy access.” He dips his fingers into the frosting again and slides those sugary digits up my slit. Pulling me to the edge of the counter, he lowers into a crouch. I lean back, balancing on my elbows, and settle my feet on his shoulders.
Our eyes lock between the splay of my thighs. My breath hitches, the adoration in his expression a threat to the air in my lungs. His head disappears under my dress, and his warm lips graze my inner thigh, light kisses traveling closer to my sex. I break out in a full body shudder as gooseflesh spreads over my skin. Instead of kissing me where I’m aching for him, he begins the slow seduction all over again on my other leg.
“Stop torturing me,” I breathe.
He laughs against my flesh, and then his tongue laps up the icing, dragging a moan from me. I definitely didn’t have this in mind when I put the ingredients for his cake into a mixing bowl, but I’m not complaining. He works me over for several minutes, licking me closer to climax. Right as I’m about to come, he pulls back.
“What else do I get for my birthday?”
I blink. “What?”
“After I’m done eating you, what else do I get?”
A night in his bed with his cock where it belongs? But I don’t dare voice the thought.
“Anything you want.”
“You mean that?” There’s a suspicious inflection in his tone.
I raise a brow, worried I made a mistake by promising him such a thing. I should have known better. “It’s your birthday,” I hedge.