Was bad and had desert before dinner

You notice the petite frame perched on the kitchen counter before anything else — bare legs dangling, a stolen spoonful of something sweet already halfway to those lips.

You feel the pull of it immediately, that specific hunger that has nothing to do with food. You want to cross the room, plant both hands on either side of those hips, and make the interruption worth the mischief.

You already know dinner can wait. You already know exactly what you'd rather taste first, and the look being held in your direction suggests the feeling is entirely mutual.