27
“I’m taking you to my favorite spot, so hush and be a good boy,” Sammi said, patting Stanton on the cheek.
Grabbing her hand, he dragged it down to his crotch and inquired with an arched brow, “Do I feel like a boy to you?”
Releasing her hand quickly, he pushed open the door of her favorite French bakery, La Boulangerie, and the bell attached to the handle jingled. It was past breakfast—hell, it was past brunch—but Sammi convinced him that they’d find breakfast treats waiting for them. Apparently, she was such a good customer that the owner put several croissants aside for her when she didn’t show up at her usual morning time. He didn’t want to burst her bubble by telling her that there was no way a few measly croissants were going to satisfy his hunger after the night they’d had. He
