Page 16 of Baked

Hunter could not believehe’d just done that. He hadn’t planned on kissing Rachel tonight. He definitely hadn’t planned on sticking his hand down her panties either. But he didn’t regret it. Couldn’t even if he wanted to. Tasting those sweet lips for the first time, touching her silky skin, seeing her in a state of bliss ... it was the closest he would ever get to heaven. And it would forever be burned into his memory.

She wasn’t just cute or as sweet as sugar. She was a goddamn sexy fucking fairy. Full of fire and passion. Enough to burn the whole damn world down.

After seeing to her pleasure—once, using just his fingers—his self-control had kicked in, and he’d stopped it from going any further. The only problem with that being here, lying on the couch, he was so turned on, he couldn’t see straight.

Think about something else, for the love of God.

But he couldn’t. Not when Rachel was just yards away. Wanting him. Needing him. He could still see the look on her face when he told her they had to stop. Confusion. Disappointment. The second kiss he’d given her before she went to bed wasn’t enough either. It didn’t convince her this wasn’t the end, not in the slightest.

You’ve fucked up.

He had. Massively. And he didn’t know what to do to fix it. He couldn’t carry on like nothing had happened, but he couldn’t continue what they’d started either. Not without a conversation at least.

And you’re so good at those.

Pushing up from the cushions, he reached for his phone on the wooden coffee table. He needed advice, and there was only one person he’d dared to talk to about Rachel.

Luke.

He wouldn’t normally be Hunter’s first choice to go to for advice. Hell, he wouldn’t be anyone’s first choice. But he wasn’t about to go running his mouth to anyone else anytime soon, so Luke it was.

Hunter:I think I fucked up with Rachel.

Slumping back into the couch, he discarded the woolen blanket he’d had over him and waited. Two minutes later, Luke replied.

Luke:What did you do?

Hunter:We kissed ... and some other stuff. But I stopped it before it went too far. I think I hurt her feelings.

Luke:Dude. Please tell me you spoke to her about it afterwards and explained why you stopped? For the record, why did you stop?

Hunter:No. I didn’t know what to say. But I kissed her again before she went to bed. I thought that would be enough, but now I’m not so sure. I stopped ’cause I didn’t want our first time to be on her couch, when I haven’t even taken her on a date yet. You only get one first time.

Luke:Look at you. All romantic and shit. Who knew you were such a soppy bastard!

These weren’t exactly the words of wisdom he was hoping for.

Hunter:That’s all you have to say? How about some useful advice, man?

Luke:You know what you need to do. You need to go talk to her. Tell her all the soppy stuff about taking her out first before you go there. Chicks eat that shit up. Also, there’s a good chance that right now, she thinks you don’t like her enough to go all the way. Time to use your big boy words.

Damnit, he was right.

It wasn’t like Hunter didn’t know that he needed to talk to her. He did. But this was hard enough for him as it was. Throw in a conversation where he had no other choice but to be vulnerable, and he just wasn’t sure he could do it.

After shooting off athank youtext to Luke, he pulled up his email. He wasn’t about to sleep right now, so he might as well do something useful. Cody had sent him all the information he’d requested on the men Rachel’s dad owed money to. It was time to check it out.

***

Hunter had underestimatedjust how upset Rachel would be. Actually, upset wasn’t the right word. She was pissed. Pissed as hell. And for someone who was up at five in the morning, she sure did have a lot of energy. Enough to bang every cupboard she opened, to stomp on the kitchen tiles, and to loudly huff an extraordinary number of times.

He’d put his plans to kiss her again on temporary hold. Mostly for fear she might stab him with her coffee spoon. If he wanted to fix this, he’d have to do it soon though. He was back at work today, and after dropping her off at the bakery, he would be on shift for twelve hours.

“Honeybun.” He made sure he was out of stabbing distance, leaning against the chrome fridge as she perched on the stool next to the floating countertop.

“Don’t,” she interrupted before he had a chance to finish.

“Don’t what?”