Dream Lake (Friday Harbor #3)(85)

“Gamers don’t want a real dinner,” Alex said. “They like things you can eat with one hand. Potato chips. Pop-Tarts.” He laughed at her expression, and watched, intrigued, as Zoë used a spatula to mix the white chocolate into a bowl of whipped cream. “Why are you stirring it like that?”

“I’m folding it. If you stir it the regular way, it won’t be fluffy.” She cut the rubber spatula vertically through the bowl of whipped cream and liquid white chocolate, swept it across the bottom of the bowl and up the side, and over the top of the mixture. Each time she finished the movement, she rotated the bowl a quarter turn. “See? This way it keeps the mixture light. Here, try it.”

“I don’t want to ruin it,” Alex protested as she gave him the spatula.

“You won’t.” She put her hand over his, and showed him the motion. He stood behind her, his arms around her, while she guided his hand deftly. “Down, across, up, over. Down, across, up, over … yes, that’s the technique.”

“I’m starting to get excited,” he said, and she laughed.

“It doesn’t take much for you.”

He gave the spatula back to her, and nuzzled into her curls as she finished folding the batter. “What are we making this stuff for?”

“White chocolate strawberry shortcake.” She dipped a fingertip into the rich whipped cream and turned in his arms. “Taste.”

He tasted the cream from her finger. “My God. That’s good. Give me another.”

“No more after this,” Zoë said sternly, dipping her finger once more into the bowl. “We need the rest for the shortcake.”

Her finger was drawn into the warm suction of his mouth. “Mmmn.” Bending his head, he shared the taste with her, his tongue sweet like white chocolate. Zoë relaxed against him, her lips parting. The kiss lengthened, turning lazy and deep, while his hands slid over her arms and shoulders. Grasping the hem of her T-shirt, he began to pull it upward, and she stopped him with a little squeak of protest.

“Alex, no. We’re in the kitchen.”

His lips dragged gently to her neck. “No one’s here.”

“The windows …”

“There’s no one for miles around.” He stripped the shirt away from her. His mouth caught hers with a sensual greed that made the down on her neck and arms rise. When she felt him pulling down her bra straps, she tensed uneasily but let him do it. His fingers, so clever and sure, went to the back of her bra and unfastened the tiny hooks. One … two … three. The straps and elastic webbing fell away.

His hand covered her br**sts with warm, stimulating pressure, his palms rubbing softly, and then his thumbs flicked until the tips were rosy and hard. She leaned back against the hard edge of the counter, forcing words between shallow gasps. “Please … upstairs …” She wanted the dark enveloping privacy of a bedroom, the softness of a bed.

“Here,” Alex insisted softly. He took off his own shirt and dropped it to the floor, all toughness and masculine brawn, his body rampantly aroused. His eyes were light and devil blue as he reached into the bowl of frothy cream and scooped some with two fingers. She blinked as she realized what he intended.

“Don’t even think it,” she wheezed, giggling, trying to slide away. “There’s something wrong with you.” But his free hand gripped the front edge of her shorts, anchoring her in place, and he dabbed the chilled white chocolate mixture over the tips of her br**sts. She closed her eyes, trembling as he bent to lick and suck the sweetness from her. He stood and kissed her again, his mouth delicious and hungering. His hands were in her shorts, his palms hot against her skin. She couldn’t think, could hardly breathe. Just let him, her body urged, the pleasure unfolding in wanton blooms. Let him ease her shorts and panties off, let him kiss the vulnerable curve of her stomach and grip her bottom with his hands. Let him kneel in front of her, his mouth following the taste of her excitement.

Her legs shook, and she leaned back against the cold granite counter for support. Gooseflesh covered her skin everywhere. He reached for the bowl of cream. A dab of cool sweetness between her thighs. He opened her with his mouth, his tongue flickering. Down, across, up, over. The rhythm was persistent, merciless, allowing her no time to think, lavishing her with a feeling so intense that it shortened the spaces between her heartbeats. She heard herself making sounds like a distraught dreamer, her h*ps moving in tight circles against his mouth. Her flesh swelled, and he licked deeper, rougher, faster, sending her into a commotion. She cried out, their surroundings shimmering in a brilliant blur. He stayed with her, stroking while the release melted through her, until she was moaning and spent.

Rising to his feet, Alex tugged at the zipper of his jeans. His arms went around her, pulling her upward against the stiff shape of his erection. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her head falling to his shoulder. There was no need for condoms, she had started taking the pill. Reaching down, he angled her h*ps and positioned himself, and she gasped as a heavy upward thrust nearly lifted her toes from the floor. Her body closed around him, working at the hard invasion until he groaned and thrust again. She was weightless, anchored only by the force of him inside her, shudders of pleasure rebounding from her flesh to his and back again. The breath hissed between his teeth as he came in rough pulses, his arms curling tightly around her. They stood locked and shivering, exchanging soft, sated kisses that soon turned greedy … the kind of kisses you shared with someone you might not have for always, but you could have for right now.