Stud Muffin (Donner Bakery #2) - Jiffy Kate Page 0,75
me.”
After a few more seconds, I see her begin to focus and forget about everything else—Asher, the baby… everything. “Now punch.”
She starts off tentatively with a half-assed right hook and then a weak left jab.
“You can do better than that,” I tell her, giving her shoulder a push as we dance around each other. “Give it to me… lay it all on me.”
The next punch hits me in the arm and I can’t say it stings, but I feel it and I give her a quirk of an eyebrow in approval. “Again.”
Left, right… uppercut, jab.
“That’s it,” I coax. “Hands up, keep your face protected.”
It’s too pretty to take a punch.
When she starts to get the hang of it and realizes she’s not going to hurt me, she loses herself in the sparring, throwing punch after punch. Some I dodge, some I deflect, and some I take like a man, letting her take out her frustrations and disappointment on me.
I must get too lax in my protective stance, or maybe I’m losing my touch, because she lands a wild right hook to my jaw and it kind of knocks me for a loop.
“Oh, my God,” she exhales, bracing her hands on her knees as she catches her breath and tries not to laugh. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to punch you in the face.”
Her genuine laugh is a soothing balm to any injury I might’ve sustained, which is minimal, maybe a sore jaw, but probably not even that. But that doesn’t keep me from playing it up. I cup my jaw and turn my back to her, bending over as if I’m in pain.
She immediately comes to my side, concern in her voice. “Cage… are you okay? I… I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”
Just as she squats down to look me in the eye, I grab her and toss her over my shoulder.
“I should body slam you for that,” I growl, earning a squeal.
“I’m sorry!” she exclaims. “Put me down. Please!” Her padded fists hammer at my back and I twist.
“A little to the left,” I tell her. “My lat has been tight for a few days.” My own laugh rumbles through my chest as she starts pounding harder. Without thinking, I smack her ass and she practically jolts right off my shoulder.
Letting her slide to the floor, I can’t help the way my body responds to hers.
“Did you slap my ass?” she asks, eyes wide.
I nod. “Yeah, I did… you had it coming.”
Her mouth drops open and she huffs out another laugh in disbelief, but I see the way her eyes change—darkening, lids lowering—just like the other night in the truck. She’s thinking about kissing me… maybe more.
I’d bet money on it.
To preoccupy myself, I take the Velcro closure of my gloves and rip it open, freeing one hand and then the other, before working on hers.
She barks out another laugh as she uses her freed hand to brush wayward strands of hair out of her face. “I think I had some pent-up aggression to get out,” she admits on a huff. “That felt good. Not the hitting you part.” Biting down on her bottom lip, she fights back another laugh. “But the sparring part… that was just what I needed.”
Her words of pent-up aggression and need are going straight to my dick, which is entirely too close to her to be getting hard. At this proximity, she’d feel it… she’d know exactly how much I want her.
That intense connection from the other night is back and I feel something in my chest pull, like it’s tangling with something inside her, pulling me to her.
“I, uh,” she hesitates for a moment, her eyes boring into mine. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry for kissing you… I crossed a line and it was really—”
“Fucking great,” I tell her, cutting off her bullshit apology. I was hoping she’d bring it up, but only because I wanted to do it again and tell her how much I love kissing her… touching her, being near her. When she leaned across the cab of the truck and kissed my cheek, I lost my mind. I’m also confident if we’d have kept it up and her phone hadn’t rang, I would’ve had her in my lap, grinding on my dick in no time.
I wanted her.
I still want her.
Her cheeks tinge pink as she looks away.
“Tempest,” I demand, gently taking her chin and turning her gaze back to me. “It was more than great… best kiss