I keep grinning. “I can tell.”
He finishes his second piece of cake and points at the plate. “You know your way around a cake.”
I shrug. “I can bake a little.”
“You can bake a fuckload.”
“You know, for an asshole, you can be nice when you want to be.”
“I didn’t think you thought I was an asshole anymore.”
“I’ve decided not to be so rash in my decisions. I’m taking my time with this one.”
“Smart move.”
“You’ve earned a few ticks in the ‘not an asshole’ column today.”
“What for?”
“Well, fixing my car for one. And taking pity on me for being broke and covering the cost of the parts.”
“So two ticks today?”
I scrunch my nose. “Well, you did lose one of those ticks when you ordered me to get regular services. But then you earned it back when you said I could get away with eating more cake. And now I’ve just added another one because you told me I can make a cake. I mean, if you wanna keep your asshole status, I’m gonna need to be seeing some more of that mean streak of yours. Just sayin’.”
He leans forward, eyes boring into mine. “Princess, you don’t just make a fucking cake, you fucking boss it. You put every other cake maker out there to shame.”
My entire body lights up. With pride. With happiness. With desire.
“Thank you,” I say softly. “That means a lot.”
“Just calling it like I see it.”
I take a deep breath and brace myself for a long night, because I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m in for. With Fury half-naked and being his non-asshole self, it’s going to be one long-ass night of holding myself back from doing what I really want to do with him.
11
Fury
* * *
I need to get laid.
And fucking soon.
If I have any hope of surviving Zara, I need to find a club whore to help me move my dick the fuck on from her, because after the last two nights, she’s been on constant replay in my head. Eating cake and spending time talking with her last night was a bad fucking decision that I won’t repeat again.
I’ve spent today in the gym, trying to box my frustration out. To no effect. And now I’ve just turned up at the clubhouse for the barbeque Zara told her mother she’d help organise, so I’m expecting to run into her here. To say I’d prefer to spend my day off anywhere but here is an understatement. I’ll stay for a couple of hours and then head off once King has seen me show my face.
I’ve been here for about half an hour and am shooting the shit with Nash out the back of the clubhouse when I catch sight of her.
“Fucking hell,” I say, unable to stop the words coming out as I sweep my eyes down her body. She’s wearing a long, loose white dress, and her hair is up in a messy bun. A bunch of bangles jangle on her arm, and a gold necklace draws my attention to her tits. Fuck, she’s perfect.
Nash follows my gaze and whistles low. “Fuck, man, that’s a bad fucking idea.”
“Yeah.” I don’t need Nash telling me that; I know it better than I know anything. And yet, I don’t know how much longer I can deny mys
elf.