Baking Me Crazy (Donner Bakery, #1)(62)

I pressed my forehead to hers. "My sexy, sexy little hedgehog, we're in no rush, okay?"

She blew a raspberry between her lips. "Speak for yourself, Buchanan. You know how long I've been waiting for someone else to help me out down there? I can feel everything, I promise. I've got twenty-one years of waiting for some assistance, mister."

Because I knew she could handle it, I wrapped my arms around her and gave her all my weight while my frame shook with laughter.

Joss must have sensed how serious I was because she hugged me too, pressing a kiss into my cheek. She sighed dramatically. "Fine, but tomorrow, I'll make you pay for this little display of chivalry."

I lifted my head. "Yeah? How?"

Her eyes, sapphire set in an antique ring blue, twinkled dangerously.





Chapter 22





Jocelyn





"Ready?"

From behind the weight bench, Levi watched me enter through the door with narrowed eyes. His eyes tracked up and down my perfectly normal workout attire. My promised retribution must have been written all through my sly grin because he set his hands on his hips, clearly waiting for something.

"What?" I asked. "Are we working out or not? I've got some new exercises you can help me with."

That loosened his tightly held frame a bit. "Yeah? Did PT boy give you those ideas?"

Well hello, jealousy. I shrugged. "I didn't see him this week."

"Good."

I snorted. "Levi, you had your hands on my ass last night; how jealous can you possibly be?"

With three long strides that had my tummy flipping, he was right in front of me, leaning down to plant a hard kiss on my upturned lips. "I'm not jealous," he said against my mouth.

"Okay." I nipped at his lower lip, which made him growl.

Levi stood. "I await your instructions."

"Grab that exercise band. The black one."

He plucked it off the wall behind him while I locked my chair and slid onto the floor by the yellow pad.

"Do you still need to stretch?" he asked.

I blinked innocently up at him. "Everything but my legs. I figured you could help me."

His throat worked on a swallow. "'Kay."

Some might have called me crazy or said I clearly had a few screws loose, but this was the most fun I'd had in years. The ability to be with him like this had a giddy, bubbly sort of happiness threatening to explode out of my skin.

I laid on the mat as Levi kneeled between my legs. Placing his hands on my knee and ankle, he picked up my right and pressed it back into my chest.

"Good?" he asked, eyes never leaving mine.

I smiled. "You can push … harder."

His cheeks flushed, his lips stayed in a firm line, but his eyes sparked hot as he pressed his chest against my leg, pushing it farther toward my chest.

After a few pulses, complete with delicious, heavy eye contact, I swear, if he so much as brushed his fingers between my legs, I would've exploded. He pulled back, carefully set down my right and switched to the left, this time not waiting for me to ask for more.

Levi braced my shin in the middle of his chest, then set his hands on either side of me, pressing down.

Inhaling a sharp breath through my nose, I closed my eyes. The stretch of muscle along the back of my leg hurt, hurt so good, but it was him too. So much him.

Rocking himself forward, he pulsed the other leg too until we both knew I was adequately stretched.

Sweat popped along the back of my neck even though I'd barely moved, just from the things racing through my head at our position.

Sliding into relationship mode with Levi was like breathing, much to my delight. Which was good because I wanted to slide us even further past whatever arbitrary line he'd erected. I wanted to have sex. But not just any sex. I wanted to have sex with my best friend turned first boyfriend, who looked at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off with his teeth.

I wanted sweat-slicked skin and tight muscles and his hardness in my hands. I wanted arching bodies and hands against my skin. And I wanted him so badly that I'd been jittery all night, all morning. Fine, fine, he was trying to be respectful, blah, blah, blah, but being friends for five years gave us a bit of a leg up in the dating world if you asked me.

And respect was excellent. It was. I wanted to respect the hell out of his strong, muscled body. The one he'd honed out of hard work and determination. I wanted to respect that body so badly.

Hence my well-crafted plan for today. I'd spent a little time on YouTube last night, looking up leg exercises that would:

1-Benefit me physically.

2-Drive him out of his fucking mind.

The sports bra that I'd dug out of the back of my dresser drawer was my ringer for goal number two. Today, she'd be my shining star because showing skin when trying to seduce your best friend turned first boyfriend was always helpful. Two years ago, I'd bought it on impulse and had only worn it under baggy T-shirts.

"Legs feel better?" he asked, standing up from the mat as I pulled myself to a sitting position.

"Mm-hmm." My fingers played with the hem of my T-shirt, and I had to take a few deep breaths to bust through a sudden flurry of nerves. Playing the seductress had never once been at the top of my to-do list.