Page 9 of Her Power Play

My stomach flips, then it flops.

“Hey,” I exhale. “How’d you get my store’s name… and address?”

He snorts. “Corey Simms. He did want you in his bed, but I set him straight.”

I blink, and at the same time, his grin widens. He takes one step forward, then another. I watch as he places his palms on the counter. Liam leans forward, his gaze searching mine, and I know that he’s thinking about that bed and me in it.

As much as I want to tell him to stop thinking about it, I can’t, because I’ve been thinking about it every hour on the hour, and twice at the half hour. To be honest, I’m not sure I can turn off my brain at all, and I can’t help but wonder if things might change if we did just do the whole bed-together thing…

TEN

LIAM

“Came to check out your cupcakes,” I murmur, making sure the word cupcakes is dripping with innuendo.

I don’t want there to be any mistake about why I’m really here. I couldn’t stop thinking about her last night. My fingers wrapped around my cock, and I brought myself to orgasm twice before I could even close my eyes to sleep.

Now I’m standing in front of her case, my eyes on hers and so damn close. I could just reach over and drag her across the counter, then fuck her against it.

“You came to check out my cupcakes…” she says, repeating my words as her voice trails off.

“Needed a snack,” I state.

She blinks.

“You came all the way down here for a snack?”

Tearing my gaze from hers, I look at the pastry case. There’s a million different things in there that I would put into my mouth. I know I’m here for the treat behind the counter, but damn if all this shit doesn’t look amazing.

“Maybe,” I murmur.

She stares at me. I can feel her gaze on my skin, but I ignore it and attempt to focus on the case.

“What can I help you with, then?” she asks, sounding very annoyed.

My lips twitch as I think about her annoyance. She’s fun and beautiful when she’s frustrated. It makes me wonder what she looks like when she’s pissed, because I have a feeling that she’s goddamn spectacular.

“What’s good?” I ask.

“Everything.”

Flicking my gaze to meet hers, my eyes connect to her own, and I let out a chuckle. “You’re confident.”

“I own the place, so I think I should be.”

“Own?” I ask.

She dips her chin in a single nod. “Own.”

“That’s impressive.”

Shifting my gaze around the shop, I take in the recipe-card frames on the walls, the signs, and the old family photos. Something washes over me, something that I can’t quite describe. Peace, maybe. Or perhaps just a quiet calm.

“The recipes are my grandmother’s. She was the baker in the family.”

“And the photos?” I ask.

I can’t really make out the people in them without moving closer. They’re all just snapshots, nothing blown up or zoomed in at all.