Dip it!

Eve showed up, all honey-blonde curls and sunlight. We started with cake, but the piping bags and beaters pulled my mind elsewhere. She leaned over the bowl, tongue slow against the cream, and the look in her eyes told me the oven could wait. I slipped behind her, hands on her hips, skirt riding up. One kiss turned into her fingers in my hair, my mouth on her neck, the counter cool under my palms while she gasped. We ended up tangled on the floor, half-naked, cake mix everywhere. Blonde on brunette, soft and frantic, her thigh between mine and mine between hers. Nothing got baked but us.