Honey Pie (Cupcake Club) - By Donna Kauffman Page 0,101

. . taking this step?”

“Both.” He framed her face with both palms. “If something happens, it just does. I won’t go anywhere, understood?” His lips twitched. “And I won’t take it personally.”

She let out a short, watery laugh. “That would be a nice change.”

The simple little joke broke his heart. To have to go through something every time she got sent reeling off was bad enough. To have it happen during the most intimate of moments . . . he couldn’t even imagine. Then to have her partner be indignant and abrasive about it? Well, he wasn’t one to cling to the past, but he wouldn’t have minded tracking down her past partners and spreading a little enlightenment their way.

“There’s something else you need to know,” he said, brushing his thumbs along the tender skin beneath her eyes. “I wasn’t raised to play well with others. In my world, it was all about protecting your own. And I have to admit, I still don’t like to share what’s mine.”

She surprised him by smiling, and the sheen of emotion finally shifted to one of dry amusement. “So, you’re saying you wouldn’t respond in a positive way if I thought I wanted to test out my new ability to take . . . certain risks with other island residents of the male persuasion? I’m pretty sure old Mr. Hanson was giving me the eye when he came by to drop off those tools you asked him to loan me. Thank you for that, by the way. Of course, it’s also doubtful he’d even be aware if I was having a vision because he’d be too busy trying not to die of a heart attack—”

Dylan cut her off with a kiss. Fast, hard, deep, and absolutely intended to claim. Both were a little breathless when he lifted his head. “Do you know it’s a little terrifying—maybe more than a little—and a lot humbling, that you could actually make me jealous of an eighty-six year old grandfather of nine?”

“Nine grandkids, huh?” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Sounds like a guy with some serious stamina.”

She let out a loud squeal when he simply hauled her up over his shoulder and carried her down the short hall to the master suite. “We’ll see about stamina,” he said, even as her laughter trailed along behind him.

“You’re way too easy, you know,” she said, laughter still bubbling. “You should know better than to give me that kind of leverage.”

He slid her off of his shoulder, grinning despite the fact that his desire to claim her as his own grew with every giggle, every little poke or jab. “Let’s talk about leverage, sugar.”

He laid her across the wide expanse of his bed, following her down and pinning her into the soft, pillowed mattress with the full length of his body.

“Oh,” she sighed as she sank into the cool linens and soft, cotton-covered duvet. “This is . . . decadent.”

He grinned, and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “You might be the only one who thinks of cotton as decadent.”

“It’s just so soft.”

“Let’s hope that’s the only time I hear you say that, darlin’.”

She laughed, and wriggled under him. “Something tells me you won’t have to worry much on that score.” She slid her arms around his neck. “Come here,” she said softly, mimicking his Southern accent and pulling him down so she could kiss him. “Thank you,” she whispered against his lips.

“For?” he asked, lifting his head just enough to brush kisses on the corner of her mouth, then along her jaw.

“All of this. Making it so easy to just be myself.”

“I happen to be very interested in just yourself.”

She beamed at that, and his heart did the oddest little tap dance inside his chest.

“That’s really handy, because I feel the same.” She surprised him by rolling him to his back. “It’s a very empowering thing, you know. Mutual desire. Makes me feel like being a little”—she circled his wrists with her hands, pinned them beside his head, and grinned—“aggressive.”

“I’m all yours, sugar.”

She laughed, but a brief flicker of something quite . . . possessive flashed through her eyes. And rather than feel trapped—literally or figuratively—he felt triumphant.

“Good to know.” She leaned in and nipped his chin, then his earlobe. “Very, very good to know.”

He groaned as she continued her gentle assault. “It’s a damn shame it took this long for someone to get you feeling . . . empowered.” He quickly reversed their positions, laughing when she