Oh, Fudge: Hot Cakes Book Five

by Nicholas, Erin

  “Anyone else coming over?” he asked, his hot gaze on her breasts and his hands on his fly.

  “Grandpa’s been here and gone.”

  “That’s great news.”

  She watched him unzip and shove his jeans to the floor, kicking them off. Behind the plain black boxers, he was huge and hard. And she was suddenly hotter than she’d ever been.

  She slipped out of her yoga pants leaving them in the middle of the kitchen floor. Naked, she padded to him.

  “Now what?” she asked, stopping right in front of him and looking up at him.

  “You’ll do anything I want?” he asked, his voice rough and his eyes hot.

  “Definitely.”

  “How hot is the fudge?”

  Her eyes widened. “Hot. Too hot for smearing on body parts,” she said, reading his mind.

  One side of his mouth curled. “Damn.”

  “But,” she said, “I have some fudge we could heat up a little.”

  “You have some already made?” he asked. “Why was I waiting for you to stir that up?”

  “The fudge I’ve already got is for you.” She felt her cheeks get a little pink. She was shy about this? She was buck naked at the moment, and he’d done a lot of intimate things to her already, but admitting she’d made him fudge made her blush?

  “You made me fudge?”

  Dammit. He looked pleased by that. He was so going to get the wrong idea. Especially when she told him the whole story. She sighed. “Yeah. I made it around Christmas. I was going to mail it to you but then… I changed my mind.”

  “You were going to send me fudge for Christmas?” he asked, his grin growing. He lifted a hand to her cheek.

  “Yes. But then I realized that you’d think it meant I liked you and was thinking about you,” she said with an eye roll.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dropping and that drawl becoming more pronounced. “I know you like me and have been thinking of me.”

  He was cocky. A little. Not overly. Not obnoxiously. But enough to be… hot. She did like confident men. “Well, you can not think that the fact that it’s chipotle fudge means anything,” she said.

  His grin definitely grew with that. “You made me spicy fudge?”

  “Spicy and sweet go together really well.”

  He nodded, his grin turning into an almost smirk. “They sure do.”

  “But it was just something I wanted to try, and since you eat all that crazy spicy food I thought you were someone I could send it to.”

  “But then you realized that I’d think it meant you liked me.”

  She blew out a breath. “Yeah.”

  “Do you normally make chipotle fudge?”

  “No.”

  “Huh.”

  “You’re thinking it, aren’t you?”

  “That you like me? Yeah, I’m thinking it.”

  “Well, if you’re going to be all smug about it, I’m not going to melt it down and coat your cock with it so I can lick it off.”

  His smile dropped and his eyes blazed. “Oh yes you fucking are.”

  “What if the chili powder in it burns you?”

  “I can handle that,” he told her. “For sure.”

  The powder, especially mixed in with all the other ingredients, probably wasn’t much of a risk. There was just enough in the fudge to give it some kick.

  “That’s pretty sensitive skin,” she pointed out anyway.

  “True. Guess you’ll have to lick fast.”

  “And thoroughly,” she agreed.

  “Definitely.”

  “But I don’t want to use it all up. I want you take some of it back to Louisiana with you.” She gave him a grin that she was sure looked very please-fuck-me. At least that’s what she was thinking. “And think of me… and what we’re about to do… while you eat it.”

  “Yeah, we need to talk about me thinking about you from Louisiana,” he said.

  Oooh, that sounded like he maybe wanted to take their texting to sexting. Or maybe even phone sex. Or the Zoom sex he’d mentioned earlier. She was on board.

  “Later. We can talk and… do a lot of other things… later.” She ran her hand down his abs and stroked his cock through his boxers. “But we have other things to do right now.”

  She turned and reached to grab the container of spicy fudge from the counter. She was glad she’d mentioned it. She wasn’t going to. She wasn’t going to confess that he’d made her do something special and different. But somehow it felt right to admit that now.

  Then she took his hand and led him down the hallway to her bedroom.

  She pushed him toward the bed and shut the door behind her. No one else was coming over. Probably. Okay, there was a 5 percent chance that someone else would stop by. At least this way she’d hear them unlock the front door and could stash him in her closet before whoever it was made it down the hall.

  If she heard them.

  She had some plans here that just might end up being kind of noisy.

  Mitch sitting on the edge of her bed, his hot, hard, tanned body and black boxers against the multicolored quilt and pillows was about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. He looked out of place on the squares covered with stitched flowers and swirls. Her pillows were encased in different pillowcases as well. Something that, for some reason, drove her mom crazy. They were a mismatched bunch from different sheet sets. A couple had come from childhood sets, a couple from her grandmother, and she had no idea where the purple one had come from. But why did everything always have to match? Why did things have to go a certain way all the time? Why did there have to be a plan for every damned thing including matching sheets?

  She took a deep breath. That didn’t matter. At least not at this moment. Mitch looked out of place and she loved that. He didn’t match and that was awesome. He wasn’t like the guys here. He wasn’t from here. Her mother didn’t know his mother and grandmother and every aunt and cousin. She didn’t know his mother. Nor would she.

  This was perfect.

  She pulled the top off the fudge container and took a piece out. Then she tossed the box on top of her dresser and walked toward Mitch.

  He opened his knees, welcoming her between them, his hands going to her butt.

  She lifted the fudge and took a bite, then offered it to him. He bit into it, his eyes locked on hers.

  The candy was incredibly sweet. She didn’t eat much white sugar and very, very few candies. But she was definitely happy to make an exception here. The chili powder kept it from being too much as the chocolate melted on her tongue and the spiciness gave her a little tingle.

  Mitch’s fingers curled into her butt as he let the fudge melt in his mouth as well. Paige shifted to put a knee on the mattress next to him, pressing her body against his. She lowered her mouth, meeting his lips in a chocolatey, sweet and spicy kiss. This was by far her favorite way to eat fudge.

  Except…

  The piece of candy had grown a little sticky as she held it. She put it in her other hand and lifted her chocolatey fingertips to her nipple. She coated it in chocolate and then lifted her head from the kiss.

  Mitch’s gaze immediately found her sticky nipple and his lips followed.

  He took the tip in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, then sucking.

  Her fingers gripped his head as she sighed. God, this was so good. Sex had never been like this before. No one had ever turned her on like this man. No one had ever known how to touch her, how to talk to her, the way he did.

  “My turn,” she said breathlessly, pushing him back.

  She went to her knees in front of him, pulling one side of his boxers down. She still held the piece of fudge in her other hand, so needed his help—which he gladly gave—to slide his boxers down. She shifted out of the way so he could get them off his feet, but her gaze and her hand, immediately went to the impressive cock he exposed.

  “You have to tell me if this hurts you,” she said, looking up at him from beneath her lashes as she m
oved the fudge from her fingertips to her full palm. She closed her fist around it, letting it get melty.

  “Oh babe, give me some good hurt,” he said, his hand going to her head.

  She was so glad he wasn’t going to try to talk her out of this or even say something like you don’t have to do this. She did have to do this. She needed to. She wanted him to get hard as soon as he opened that box of fudge when he was home.

  Paige reached for him with her sticky hand and ran it up and down his hard length, leaving a chocolatey mess behind.

  He hissed out a breath as she touched him, rubbing and squeezing, his fingers tightened against her scalp.

  Then she leaned in and put her tongue to work cleaning up the mess. She licked and sucked until he was gripping her hair and breathing raggedly.

  “Paige. Fuck. God. Sweetheart.”

  He could only manage single words it seemed, and she felt a definite surge of power knowing she was making him lose the ability to speak.

  She took him deep and felt his whole body stiffen.

  “No. Not like this.”

  Suddenly she found herself hauled to her feet, swung around, and tossed onto the mattress.

  He immediately crawled up her body. He took her mouth in a deep, searing kiss and she arched into him, seeking full-body contact and heat. She needed all of his hardness against all of her softness.

  He drove his fingers into her hair, holding her head still as he kissed her, his tongue stroking deep and amazingly making her clit ache as if he were licking it. She gripped his shoulders, wrapping her legs around him.

  His cock pressed against her, hot and heavy and she whimpered. “Please, Mitch.”

  “Anything you want.”

  “You. Just you. All of you. Please.”

  “I don’t know if I can take you slow, sweetheart.” He moved his mouth along her jaw. “I’m trying to get some control here.”

  “No. Not slow.” She tried to shake her head, but he still held her. She looked up at him. “Hard. Please.”

  He blew out a breath. “The first time… we got a little wild. But this time, I’ve been thinking about you, waiting for you, for a long time now. This might be… really hard.”

  When he’d told her before that he hadn’t been with anyone else it had sent a shot of adrenaline through her that had felt a lot like panic. This was too intense, too fast, too much. She didn’t want to be totally absorbed in someone. She didn’t want someone who would be totally absorbed in her.

  But now when he said it, she felt a surge of a different kind.

  Mine.

  She had never felt that way about another person. She didn’t feel that way about a single possession, her apartment, or her hometown. She didn’t even feel it when she looked at her yoga studio or thought about the business she’d created. She felt it about her cats in some cases. Technically they were all available for adoption, but she kept her cats, the ones she just felt needed her and no one else, in another room when people came to look to adopt.

  But in that moment, with Mitch, with him telling her that he’d been waiting on her, she felt it.

  Mine. She wanted him to be hers.

  She was so screwed.

  “Yes,” she said softly. She pressed one heel into his ass, but she moved her hands to hold his face. “Hard. Deep. Take me, Mitch.”

  His jaw tensed as he stared into her eyes for a long moment. Then he gave her a nod. “Glad we’re on that same page.”

  She had a feeling the page they were on was not the fuck-me-hard page. It was more than that. Deeper. More serious.

  But it didn’t make her stomach tighten with trepidation. It made her whole body tighten with anticipation.

  “Condom,” he said, shifting slightly. “Dammit. They’re in the other room.”

  She shook her head and pointed at her bedside table. “In there.”

  She had condoms in her bedside table. She rarely used them in here. Mostly she just grabbed them and stuffed them in her purse if she was going out with someone that she might want to use one with. She, frustratingly, couldn’t keep them in the bathroom where her mother might see them. Not that she was embarrassed that her mom knew she had sex. It was that her mom would want to know who the guy was and how serious it was and did he have a good job and did he like meatloaf.

  She just couldn’t handle all of that, so she hid her condoms. Like a teenager sneaking around. Ugh, she hated that.

  But Mitch didn’t seem too annoyed by the idea that she had, and had needed, condoms in her bedside table. He shifted and reached, grabbing them out of the drawer and tossing about five on the quilt next to them.

  His eyes locked on hers as he pushed up to kneel between her thighs, and rolled a condom on.

  Damn, that was hot.

  Then he lowered himself on top of her again and kissed her.

  It was the sexiest, sweetest kiss of her life.

  She wasn’t sure what was different about it. It was still lips and tongues. But there was more there now.

  Lord, just please don’t let him propose.

  Then as he lifted her leg a little higher and pressed forward, sliding into her, and her neck arched, her head pressing back into the mattress with the sheer delicious bliss of it, she added, And don’t let me propose to him.

  Mitch slid in deep and then paused.

  She tightened around him and he groaned.

  “Hard,” she whispered.

  “Okay.” He pulled in a breath. “Hang on.”

  She grinned. “You break my bed, you have to fix it.”

  “Can do.”

  She didn’t know if he was referring to breaking her bed or fixing it, but she knew he could do both.

  Mitch shifted to brace his arm on the mattress next to her ear. The other gripped her thigh, lifting it, and spreading her a little wider.

  And then he went hard. Braced above her, he was able to thrust deep and hard, and her headboard began banging against the wall just slightly louder than her gasps and cries of, “Oh, Mitch!” and “Yes!” and his growls and, “Fuck, yeahs” and “God, you’re amazing.”

  Her hand gripped his shoulder while the other grabbed on to the quilt under her. But she couldn’t do much more than lay there and take it. And she loved every second of that.

  She was not the submissive type. At all. But something about letting Mitch do any dirty thing he wanted to made her hot and needy.

  And all his.

  Did he ever think mine about her? Surely not. They barely knew one another. She had no idea why she was thinking those things. There was no way he was thinking them too.

  “Paige. Baby. Honey.” He was panting as he thrust.

  She arched closer. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

  And then she was coming. Hard. The waves of pleasure washing through her took her breath away, and for just a second she thought I can’t live without this.

  Mitch’s pace picked up, his body tensing, and he was coming, her name a long groan as he let go.

  He held himself up from her for several seconds as they both breathed hard. Then he leaned down and kissed her. This was soft, but still as hot as the hungry ones from before. His lips clung to hers for a moment, then he kissed his way along her jaw and down her neck to her shoulder, before rolling to his side and bringing her nearly boneless body up against his until she was half draped over him.

  “Holy. Shit,” he said, breathing out in a very satisfied way.

  She smiled against his chest. “Ditto.”

  It had been good. So good. Better than the first time they’d been together last summer.

  But, of course, she could live without it. That had been a crazy thought. It was just sex. Really good sex, but still. It wasn’t like it was oxygen or water.

  But as he shifted and settled more fully into her mattress, his hand possessively splayed over her ass, she had a twinge of I don’t want him to leave that was very concerning.

  A huge yawn hit her just then, and she stretched as she pulled
in the long, deep breath before settling against him again.

  She was definitely going to need to think about all of her crazy thoughts and feelings about this guy and figure out what the hell was wrong with her and how to get over it.

  Mitch kissed the top of her head and she smiled and sighed.

  She’d figure out how to get over it—him—tomorrow.

  Or maybe the day after that.

  8

  He woke her up twice during the night. Normally that alone would have been enough for her to put a lot of distance between them immediately. Not having anyone dictating or interrupting her routines and schedules was one very big pro of being single.

  But Mitch really made the waking up worthwhile.

  Until he started talking after the second wake-up call via orgasm.

  It had been going so well too. His hot mouth. His hot hands. His hot… everything else. Who cared about sleep when you had a big, hot, dirty-talking, sexy, sweet Cajun in your bed?

  No one, that was who.

  But big, hot, dirty-talking, sexy, sweet, chatty Cajuns were another thing.

  “I was thinkin’,” he said, his drawl more pronounced in the dark, and after his second orgasm.

  “Uh-oh,” Paige said. Out loud. Sincerely.

  He gave her butt a squeeze. “I’m serious.”

  “Exactly why I said uh-oh.” She shifted and propped up on her elbow. The room wasn’t pitch black. Lights from the street outside filtered in through the gauzy curtains, and she still had twinkle lights up around the window.

  He definitely looked serious. Hot. Sexy as hell. And serious.

  She sighed. “Is there any chance you’ve been thinking about asking how I feel about being tied up in bed or nipple clamps or something?”

  He cleared his throat, and she felt his hand tighten on her butt. But he shook his head. Unfortunately.

  “I’m pretty sure you’re a solid don’t-you-fucking-dare-tie-me-up girl,” he said.

  She nodded. “You wouldn’t be wrong.” She never wanted to give up that much control. To anyone.

  But nipple clamps might be something else…

  “I want to stay.”

  Four words. No preamble. No easing into it. Just I want to stay.