Waking Up to You Overexposed - By Leslie Kelly Page 0,106

waiting for an answer, he got out of the driver’s seat and bent over to step into the back of the van. Metal racks were attached to each side of it, with an aisle down the middle. Opening the lone box remaining on one shelf, he held it toward her. “Come on, have one.”

She hadn’t voluntarily eaten a cannoli since tenth grade, the day after she’d split her pants while trying to do a sit-up in gym class. They’d torn with a resounding flatulent sound and she’d almost dropped out of school then and there. “Uh-uh.”

He smiled, his eyes glittering in the near darkness. Dusk had fallen while they were out making the rounds, and it was now after eight o’clock. The book shop next door was also closed, their private parking spots empty, and the small lot was entirely quiet and deserted. Very private.

She really should hop out of the vehicle and go inside. Being out here, in the near-dark, alone with Nick, was not a very good idea. Of course, being inside the closed shop, in the light, alone with Nick, probably wouldn’t be much safer.

“One little taste. How can you tell how good you are at doing it if you never give it a try?”

Nearly choking, she repeated, “How good I am at doing it?”

“You know. Making them.”

Yeah. Sure. That’s what she’d thought he meant.

A small smile continued to play on those incredible lips of his as he watched her, as if he knew what she’d been thinking. And had intentionally put those thoughts into her head.

Get out. Now.

But she didn’t reach for the door handle. Instead, like a kid lured by the ice-cream man, she ducked into the back of the van with him. There wasn’t room to stand, but Nick had already sat down on the carpeted floor. One leg was sprawled out in front of him, the other bent and upraised. He was carefully picking his way through the open box of pastries, as if searching for just the right one to satisfy his craving.

Izzie sat down across from him, cross-legged, wondering whether the temperature in the van had just gone up forty degrees or if it was her imagination. Considering it was a breezy summer evening and the front windows were open, she somehow doubted the air had gotten hotter...only she had. In fact, being this close to Nick was setting her on fire.

“You going to let me tempt you with one?” he asked, still looking down at the box, not at her.

They did look good. So good. “I really shouldn’t.”

“Just a taste,” he whispered. Not waiting for her to answer, he lifted one out, then put the box back on the shelf. He scooted forward...close, so close she felt his heat wash over her and his warm, masculine scent fill her lungs. He lifted one of his legs over her crossed ones, until her right knee brushed his hot, jean-covered butt.

She didn’t move. Not one inch.

“Won’t you have one little lick?” he murmured, lifting the cannoli to her lips.

Staring at it in his hands—the flesh-colored cookie, the pale creamy cheese oozing from the end—she suddenly realized just how phallic the thing looked. Her mouth flooded with hunger—she wanted to lick, to taste, to devour.

Not the pastry. Him.

Almost whimpering, she lowered her mouth to it, scraping her tongue along the flaky crust, brushing his finger as she did. He shifted a little in response, as if no longer comfortable sitting the way he had been. The way they were sitting, she quickly realized why.

He was rock hard, his erection thick and long against her leg. She almost drew her legs together, the pressure in her sex demanding relief.

Izzie could hardly think or breathe. Unable to resist, she moved her leg a little, rubbing it against him, and got a low groan in response.

“Taste, Izzie.”

She tasted. Imagining it was him she was sampling, she nibbled at the filling, brushing her lips against it.

She didn’t need to invite Nick to share it. He was already there, kissing the corner of her mouth, his tongue flicking out to clean some of the sweetness off her lips. “Good,” he whispered.

Oh, very good.

She licked again, dipping her tongue inside the cookie shell for a deeper taste. Nick tasted deeper, too. He covered her lips with his, stealing some of the cream right out of her mouth, their tongues tangling over it for a long, delicious moment.

“Get your own,” she whispered with a soft laugh when he pulled away