Robin
I stand next to Denny, tilting my head curiously. He finishes and straightens up proudly. "There," he declares, glancing sideways at me, waiting for my opinion.
I take a deep breath before asking, "What... is it... exactly?"
His face falls. "Babe! It's a Christmas tree! I worked so hard on it!" He pouts and I reach out, turning him to face me and pulling the frosting tube out of his hand so I can set it on the counter. I'm trying to think of how I can explain that I had to take multiple classes in cookie decorating before I was good at it without hurting his feelings more.
"I know!" I find myself saying instead. "I was just teasing, Denny. It's perfect." I don't even care. I'll put it in the window and sell it if it will make him feel better.
As I stare at him plaintively, his lips curl up in a smile and he starts to laugh. "Are you serious?" he snorts. "Because that cookie looks like shit."
I poke him in the chest and try to back away, but he grabs my waist and drags me closer to him. "You ass!" I giggle. "I thought you actually felt bad!"
"Aw," he coos, kissing my nose as I attempt to frown up at him. He chuckles as he drops his mouth to mine. "You're physically incapable of being mad at me," he points out giddily.
"Shut up," I protest, my arms automatically going around his neck as he pulls me in for a kiss. He kisses me once, twice, three times, very gently, teasing me. I grip his shirt collar and nip at his lower lip. He smirks and I whisper, "You owe me a lot of sex to make up for this, Duquette."
"Yes, ma'am," he agrees. "Want me to start now?"
"Damn straight I do," I breathe.
He presses me up against the wall, kissing me harder; when his hips dig into mine, I gasp. "Hang on, sweetheart," he murmurs, pulling my thigh up, massaging it in his large, warm hand.
"I love you," I answer.
"I know." He winks at me, and then his lips begin to trace a hot, damp trail down my neck.
