“I wanted you to do something that was distasteful to you because I’m a jerk.”
I say it more like a question than a statement, and one fine, sandy brow arches over her stormy blue eyes. Stella’s still just wearing the same tempting, gorgeous dress she came down in earlier, and she’s not shivering one bit. Maybe her annoyance and rage are keeping her warm. Or maybe it’s her dislike for me that does it.
I try very hard not to let my gaze wander down to the neckline of Stella’s dress, where it plunges between her shapely breasts. I don’t want to give her a reason to stalk forward and ball punch me. I suppose she might use the business end of her pointy-toed black flat, but don’t judge me. Those flats have little spikes on the front that look like they could do some real damage. Plus, I’m wearing a suit, which means I don’t have the protection of denim to my advantage.
Also, Stella knows I deserve a good tea bagging. And she dislikes me enough to delight in it.
“This is the part of the night where you hand over the money for buying the bakery and get lost,” she says, confident in her annoyance.
“Hmm. It’s not that easy.”
Her eyes narrow, and she somehow manages to blink rapidly without raising those lids fully again. It’s quite astounding, really. “You’re going to go back on it? How like you to pull this kind of thing off. I should have known you and my brother would do this just to get back at me for those cupcakes and humiliate me. Because owning half of my bakery isn’t bad enough.”
“I still think it should be called a cakery,” I point out, barely managing to keep a straight face. I hold up a hand to stem the many protests and foul words of abuse that are probably coming. “And before you can say anything else, I can’t just hand over the money for the bakery. In your proposal you wanted a hundred grand, and I said okay. But that kind of cash would literally be more than you could carry. I think so, at least. I’ve never actually tried it. I can transfer it shortly, and you’ll have it by morning.”
Somehow, Stella’s gorgeous pink lipstick didn’t smudge all night, even after eating. Though, no, I have to admit it’s not the lipstick that’s gorgeous. It’s her lips. Full and tempting. The lips of a smart-mouthed goddess. I wonder how she’s going to take the next bit of news, and when I say I wonder, I mean I already know, and I’m debating whether or not it’s smart to enact the next part of the plan. This so-called plan is truthfully just flying by the seat of my freaking pants, hoping I can make things happen when I had vowed for a very long time that I would not because there were at least hundreds of good, conceivable reasons why I should not.
“I just have one more stipulation.” I put it out there with the utmost caution, and then Stella tenses.
“Let me guess. You’re going to make me kiss you goodnight?”
“No! I was actually going to say I have a quick contract for you to sign, so the legal stuff is out of the way, but if you want to kiss me, I mean, by all means—”
I don’t know if it’s a moment of madness or if she senses this is the best way to mess with me—the sweetest type of revenge, better than eyebrow shaving, butthole cupcakes, and anything she’s ever done—but Stella closes the few feet of distance between us. She wraps her arms around my neck and tugs my face to her so fast that I don’t have time to protest or stumble or try and take a step back. A second later, she’s cupping my face and dragging it down to hers.
And hell yes, I’m going. This might be sheer craziness, a moment of intense weakness, and playing right into her hand, but god, yes to kissing her. I don’t even have a bloody contract ready. I was just making up a reason to see her again.
Our bodies knock together, and Stella grunts. Our hips clash, hard against soft, bone against bone, curves against planes—fire, oil, water, all of it.
All of Stella’s resistance is momentarily forgotten and surrendered. Mine. Just like our breath, which is gone one second to raspy and heavy the next. I gasp as her knee comes dangerously close to connecting with my groin. I grasp her waist, burying my fingers in her dress and feeling the heat of her through it. Her pert, soft breasts slam into my chest while her fingers dig into my cheek, and yes, I’m sure this is about revenge, but at the moment, I’m too far gone to care. I bend my head, and our mouths crush together.