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I should tell him to leave, but I don’t.

He steps into my personal space, picks up the bowl, and turns the inside to me. A few traces of batter remain, more than enough to coat a finger. Or two.

“Try some,” he says.

It’s like being offered the forbidden fruit. I know it’s wrong to take it, but that doesn’t stop me yearning for it. It doesn’t stop the offering from being tantalising. If I trail my finger through even a smidge of cake batter, I’m going to be opening a door I won’t be able to close.

I should tell him to leave, but I don’t want to.

I meet his sultry stare and trail my index finger around the edge of the bowl, gathering sweet, sticky batter onto it. I raise my finger to my mouth. Cameron catches hold of my hand and, still staring into my eyes, brings my finger to his lips. He pauses as though waiting for my permission. This is my last chance to put the breaks on. My last chance to be sensible. I don’t take it. Instead, I nod.

ChapterFive

Cameron

Iput his finger into my mouth, clamp my lips around it, and slowly suck and lick it clean. Does he realise I’d gladly do this to his dick if he wanted me to? His lashes flutter, his pupils shrink, and he releases the most glorious little groan. I suck and lick long after the batter is all gone, then finally release his finger. I lick my lips, swipe some of the batter onto my fingertip, and smear it across his lips. I lean forward, waiting until he nods, then lick his lips clean and kiss him. The moment I pull away, he hooks his finger through my belt loop and pulls my body against his. He smashes his mouth over mine, kissing me hard. Our lips part. Our tongues battle. His beard tickles my clean-shaven jaw. I tangle my fingers through his hair and bring my hand to rest on his nape. I grab his hip, pulling him harder against me so the hard heat of his erection burns against mine through our clothes.

“What are we doing?” he gasps.

“Don’t think.”

The moment he does, this will end. He’ll realise he’s made a mistake. He’ll realise he doesn’t want to fool around with a younger man. Scratch that. He’ll realise he doesn’t want to fool around with his best friend’s son. Will Dad be mad at me? At Euan? No. Don’t think. Dad isn’t here. It’s just me and Euan. Alone in his kitchen. My cards are on the table. This could be my only chance to be with him. I have to take it. I’m going to take it.

“Cam—”

“Just kiss me.”

He does. His breath puffs against my skin. The kiss is rough and desperate and needy. My pulse is going crazy. My cock aches to be freed from the confines of my jeans. I want to touch him, kiss him all over, put my mouth around his dick. Every fantasy I’ve ever had about Euan I pour into the kiss. I groan into his mouth and suck on his tongue. He pinches my bottom lip between my teeth, driving me wild.

“Oh, fuck, Euan, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you for.”

“We shouldn’t—” His hands sweep over my body, tickling me through my T-shirt.

“I want to. Don’t you?” I slide my hand around his body to cup his arse. Oh, it’s a lovely handful.

“Yes, but?—”

“But what?” I kiss his jaw and neck and then find my way back to his lips, plunging my tongue into his hot, wet mouth.

“But—” He sighs and holds me tighter. “Don’t think.”

I laugh against his lips. “Good plan.” I reach between our bodies and press my palm against his hard dick, squeezing it through the firm fabric of his chinos.

He groans and shivers.

“Want me to take care of that for you?” I ask.

I hold my breath. I need his permission.

“Yes,” he rasps.

I kiss him again, which quickly turns into him kissing me with equal passion, and knead his erection through his chinos. I swipe my other hand over his chest, circling my palm over his nipples until they’re firm enough to be visible beneath his shirt. I tug his shirt out of his trousers and tickle my fingers over his delightfully soft stomach. He squirms and gasps but doesn’t stop kissing me. If anything, he kisses me harder.

I tear my lips from his and, staring into his eyes, sink to my knees. The tiled floor is hard and unyielding, but I don’t care. I don’t take my eyes off his as I unfasten his chinos.

“He-here?” he stammers.

“Relax. We’re behind the breakfast bar. No one can see me.”