Crazy~Sexy~Psycho

Chapter Twenty-Nine

A/N:

This book wouldn't be complete without some Backstreet Boys ^😂

Again, this is mostly just a fun, playful chapter. Also written quickly so please excuse any mistakes.

😙

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"Bake me a cake, woman,"

I turn my head around from looking in the cabinet to see Gavin comfortably sitting on my kitchen island. He turns his hat backwards, swinging his legs with a smirk.

After much debate in my bedroom as to what we should do with our free time alone this evening, and me physically dragging him away from my bed because he said he wanted to spend the entire night there 'Not sleeping', he decided he was hungry. 

So, we find ourselves in my kitchen searching for whatever it is that he's craving, which he told me five hundred times was my body, but now we've apparently landed on cake.

"Excuse me?"

"Cake. Now." He demands before smacking my ass with the spatula I didn't notice he had in his hands.

I yelp and spin around to look at him like he's crazy,  which I realize I spend a lot of my time doing.

"What makes you think I'm going to bake you a cake at midnight?" I raise my eyebrows with my hands in my hips.

"Because I'm just so good looking?" He shrugs and I roll my eyes.

"Nope,"

"Because you love me?"

I shake my head.

"Because I'll lick the frosting off your body," he grins and grabs the front of my shirt, pulling me between his legs.

He slips his hand into the back of my hair and pulls my head back before running his tongue up my neck and I swear my knees almost give out under me.

I get the mental picture of laying across the counter as Gavin's mouth discovers every sensitive part of me. That might be worth the trouble of baking a cake, I'm not going to lie.

He releases his grip and my face must give away my interest because his eyes are gleaming and I can almost see the exact thoughts I'm having also running through his mind.

"Close, but I still don't think that will get me to want to bake. I hate baking," I say a little out of breath and step back from him before I change my mind and we end up rolling around naked in chocolate.

I don't mind cooking because you don't have to make every measurement perfect like baking. When you make a cake, and one thing is off, the whole damn thing tastes wrong. I don't have patience for that shit.

He sits there pouting with his lower lip pushed out like a three year old and I roll my eyes. I'm about to protest this whole baking thing again before I have an idea.

"Fine, I will attempt to make a cake.." I say and he instantly smiles "BUT....I want a personal concert the entire time," I request and his face goes from joy to confusion.

"You want me to sing while you cook?" He asks holding back his laughter.

"Yup,"