by Lacey Black
“Will you remove that door stop?” she asks, pointing to the little triangle of rubber holding open the swinging door that separates the front room from the kitchen.
I kick the stop, leaving it lie where it lands, and return to the woman who has my blood humming and my dick harder than concrete. I step between her knees, her legs automatically wrapping around me. She reaches for me, her nails dragging lazily down my back as I explore her mouth with my tongue.
The kiss quickly turns rapacious, and I need more. I need her naked, riding my cock and screaming my name. I dig in my pocket and remove the condom I shoved in there earlier. No, I wasn’t sure it would be needed, but a man can hope.
And I was hoping like hell.
Lyndee reaches down and removes her shirt, setting it on the cold metal behind her. Then she reaches for me, grabbing at my belt and ripping it from my pants with urgent fingers. My own hands, lacking any and all finesse, tug at the button of her pants until it pops off. “Shit,” I mumble, chuckling.
“I don’t care,” she replies, lifting her hips as I slip down the zipper.
“I can sew it back on for you later,” I tell her, catching the look of surprise on her face.
“You sew?”
I shrug, removing her panties too, as I bring the pants down her legs. “My grandma taught me when I was younger.”
“I thought you didn’t have a grandma,” she says, setting her butt back down on the island once her pants reach her ankles. The cold steel causes her to squeal and jump.
Smiling, I tell her, “I don’t anymore. She died when I was twelve. She was the one who insisted I know how to wash my own clothes, sew my own buttons, and cook my own food.”
“Wow, a man who can cook and sew? How did I get so lucky?” As soon as her words register in her own mind, she stops, a look of panic crossing her face.
I know why. She’s worried about the implication we’re together.
Deciding not to let her dwell on it, I give her a teasing grin. “Well, you’re not lucky yet, but you will be soon.” I toe off my shoes, shove my pants down to my ankles, and sheath my cock in protection, while stepping out of the bunched material at my feet.
Lyndee unhooks her bra, scoots forward, and tilts her hips my way. I can see the wetness of her beautiful pussy glistening under the fluorescent lighting. My mouth waters. If I weren’t already so crazed to get inside her, I’d take my time, teasing and licking her until she was boneless and sated beneath me.
But now’s not the time.
Now, my need for her is too great to ignore.
I take my place between her thighs and stroke my cock through her wetness. Goosebumps rise on her delicate skin. They make her nipples pebble even harder. I push forward, filling her completely in one thrust. Our moans fill the space as I reach for the back of her neck, needing to feel her skin under my hand.
I set a fast, possessive pace. I can’t help it. She brings out this side of me, this desire to claim. I need to have her, make her mine. Make her come around me. It’s quickly becoming an obsession.
She’s my obsession.
Lyndee leans back on her hands and locks her ankles behind my ass. The angle sends me deeper, allows me to drive harder. Placing my hands on the cool steel, I thrust forward, feeling the way her body starts to grip me. “Are you going to come, sweets?” I ask, mesmerized by the look of euphoria on her gorgeous face.
“Yes.”
“Do it now,” I direct, swiping a thumb over her swollen clit. The result causes her to clamp down on me like a vise. The squeeze makes it hard for me to move inside of her, but the feel of her tightness strangling me is enough to bring my own release to the surface.
“Ahhhh,” she cries out, rocking her hips as she comes on my cock.
My balls tighten and tingles race up my spine. I rocket forward, hollering out as my release ricochets through me, completely out of control. The hand still holding the back of her neck tightens, but not enough to hurt her. My mouth descends, covering hers, as we both gasp for oxygen and ride out our orgasms. When my hips finally stop moving, all I feel is a sense of wonderment and satisfaction, both because of the woman and not just the sex.
“Well, that’s something I’ve never done in the kitchen,” she whispers, humor laced in her words.
“No?” I ask, smiling as I slide my lips across hers.
“Uh, no,” she states, running her fingers across my shoulders.
“Well, me either, sweets. Probably has something to do with health code violations,” I tease, remaining perfectly still to keep myself buried inside of her as long as possible.
Lyndee groans. “Oh my God, I can’t believe we just did that here. In my kitchen. I’m going to have to do a deep clean and sanitization.”
I can’t help but snort. “You said deep.”
She swats at my arm, causing me to step back, dislodging myself from her body. I reach for her hand and help her up, though her legs resemble that of a baby deer trying to stand for the first time. They’re all wobbly and unsteady.
And cute.
So sexy, with wetness dripping down her thighs, making me want to fuck her all over again, location be damned.
Fuck, I have it bad.
“Let’s get cleaned up so we can disinfect,” I state, leading her to the small bathroom.
Inside, she grabs a towel and wets it with warm water, while I remove the condom and wrap it in toilet paper. The last thing we need is for someone like her brother to find it tossed in here. I make a mental note to take the small trash bag with me when I leave.
Once we’re both cleaned up, I retrieve our discarded clothes. As I dress again, I can’t help but steal glances of her. She’s quickly turning my entire world upside down, and even if I wanted to, there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it. I think about her day and night, and now that I’ve been inside her, it’s worse. I crave her, like an alcoholic needs booze. She’s my hit.
My drug.
I’m dressed first and go in search of her cleaning supplies. I find the closet beside the bathroom and get to work on sanitizing the workspace we just contaminated with potential bodily fluids, all while smirking, because I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.
Lyndee grabs the mop and Lysol, cleaning the floors until they shine. When we’re done and all the supplies are put back where they belong, I pull her into my arms. “This was the most fun I’ve ever had baking a cake.”
She giggles, resting her cheek against my arm. “I’ve made a lot of cakes in my time, but never like this.”
“We should do it again, don’t you think?” I ask, only partially kidding.
“Maybe at your place next time.”
“Deal,” I reply, kissing the top of her head. “What do you say we finish up so we can head out. I’m really looking forward to you sleeping in my bed with me tonight.”
She glances up, her eyebrows drawn together in question. “I don’t recall you asking me.”
“Did you not sleep well the last time?” I ask, realizing I’m more concerned about her comfort than my own.
“No, I did,” she says, a coy smile spreading across her lips. “Too well.”
“Me too,” I confess, reaching for the bowl of icing and giving it a stir. “I slept better those few hours than I have in years.” It’s not a lie, and I’m hoping tonight would have the same effect.
She gives me a soft grin that makes my heart skip a beat before turning her attention back to the cake. I watch as she retrieves the three pans from the freezer and plops them down on a piece of round cardboard that sits on a spinning tray. She trims the tops so they sit flat and fills a bag with icing. Then the real magic happens.
Lyndee moves efficiently and quickly, layering cake and icing until it’s complete. “You want to do this part?” she asks, handing me a flat scraper tool.
“Tell me what to do.”
She starts to slowly spin the cake, squeezing the bag and zigzagging a thick line of icing on the side. Then she do
es the same to the top, making circles nestled inside each other. “Gently place the spreader like this,” she says, demonstrating, “And smooth the icing while it spins.”
I take the spreader and step up to the tray. I give it a gentle spin and give it a try. The icing is wavy, but it’s there. “Well, looks like I won’t be inducted into the cake decorating hall of fame,” I state with a laugh.
“It’s not tt-terrible,” she stutters, trying to cover a giggle with a cough.
“It looks crooked,” I insist, smiling.
“Here.” She takes the spreader and gets to work, righting the horrible job I did on the icing. She has the sides and top smooth in seconds like the true professional she is. Leaning against the counter to watch her work, she places a star-like tip onto the bag and adds piping along the bottom and top of the cake. “Will you cut those cherries in half?” she asks, pointing to the remaining cherries.
I grab a paring knife and slice the fruit in half, tossing the stems into the empty jar. Lyndee places the pieces along the piping and gives me a smile when it’s complete. “Can we eat it now?” I ask, returning her grin.
“No,” she giggles, carefully placing the cake inside a box.
“But…we can take this leftover icing, right?” I waggle my eyebrows, loving the happy little sound that spills from her lips.
She closes the lid and glances over her shoulder. “We wouldn’t want it to go to waste, right?” she states with a wink, grabbing a small container for the leftovers.
“And these cherries too. I want to eat them off your tits.”
She barks out a laugh, a cute blush creeping up her neck as she bats her eyelashes. “Maybe I want to eat them off you.”
I groan at the thought of her tongue on me, my cock jumping to attention like a good soldier. “Let’s go. We’ve got a date with icing and cherries.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lyndee
“Happy birthday to Lyndee, happy birthday to you.”
I lean forward and blow out the two candles in the shapes of threes on top of my cherry chip cake, smiling as I get a round of applause. Besides Dustin, Dana, and Jasper, Jameson came too after finding out at work why Jasper was in such a hurry to get home. Apparently, all you have to do is say cake, and Jameson is there.
Jasper takes the cake and cuts it into healthy slices, handing a plate to each person. “I promised Numbers I’d save him a piece, if we have some left.”
“Where’s he tonight?” I ask, taking my first bite of cake. Of course, I can’t stop thinking about what happened in my kitchen while baking the cake, or what followed after we got back here after Dustin went to bed. Let’s just say I was cleaning sticky icing residue off almost every part of my body.
“Went to Savannah’s family’s for dinner,” Jameson grumbles, pulling a face.
“So, not a Savannah fan, huh?” I ask, teasing, though it’s clear my assumption is right on.
He snorts in disgust. “She’s not good for him and she strings him along. Plus, I’m pretty sure she cheated on him at least once over the last few years. I hate her.” He’s blunt and to the point, letting his dislike for the pretty woman known. Truth be told, I wasn’t that impressed with her when I met her on Sunday. She seemed very self-absorbed, barely paying Isaac or anyone else any attention. As the other newbie in the group, I tried to talk to her after dinner, but felt like she was just trying to get away from me to return to her phone.
“Oh my God, this is so good.” Dana takes a healthy bite of her cake and closes her eyes to savor the flavor. That’s always my favorite part. Watching the joy on their face as they enjoy something I created.
“What do you think of the icing? Doesn’t it make you want to stick your finger in the cake and lick it off?” Jasper asks, a smirk on his face, as he shovels a big bite into his mouth, looking all flirty and amused and…smug.
I, on the other hand, am not feeling as amused. I can only picture what he did with that icing-coated finger and the way I came hard as he sucked it off my body.
Is it hot in here?
Jameson snickers, as if he knows exactly what his friend was talking about, or worse, doing. Fortunately for me, Dustin and Dana seem oblivious to the thick sexual tension in the room and continue chatting, while enjoying their dessert.
When I finally glance back up at Jasper, I can read his thoughts as if he spoke them aloud. His mind has clearly gone into naughty territory. He licks his lips and gives me a very sultry look, elevating my blood pressure into stroke territory.
By the time we finish eating cake, my brother declares it present time. He wheels himself into the den down the hall and returns with a large gift bag with bright pink tissue paper sticking out of the top. “What’s this?” I ask, grinning as he brings me the present.
“Open it and find out,” he replies, setting the bag on my lap.
I pull the tissue paper and find a set of square canvas prints. There are four different images, all with different ingredients. “I love these,” I tell him.
“I thought they’d look great in your office, since the walls are still bare.”
“They’re perfect. Thank you,” I tell my brother, giving him a warm smile.
“Mine next,” Jameson hollers, pulling an envelope out of his inside coat pocket.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I insist, taking the envelope from his outstretched hand.
“Well, it’s not much on short notice, but my mama raised me not to show up at a birthday party without a gift,” he replies with a grin.
I slip the sheet of paper out and read it over. “This is amazing, thank you!”
Jasper looks over my shoulder, reading the note. “Wow, pulling out all the stops, aren’t we?” he states with a laugh. “Do I need to be concerned about you stealing my girl?”
My heart hammers in my chest at his question to his friend. I glance over at Jameson, who just winks. “Not at all, but if Lyndee were to discover who the better man is, well, that’s on you, friend.” He’s clearly joking, but the statement gets a rise out of Jasper, nonetheless.
He leaps at him and puts him in a headlock. “Keep your hands to yourself,” he demands, laughing, while messing up Jameson’s hair.
When the guys are finished messing around, Dustin reaches for the paper. “What’d ya get?”
I hand it over and reply, “The first official beer tasting tour for Burgers and Brew, plus a variety case, once they have it ready.”
“Cool!” Dustin proclaims, showing the paper to Dana.
“You’re welcome too,” Jameson tells my brother, trying to finger-comb his messy hair while throwing glares at his friend. “It should be ready to start producing beer next month, as long as our inspections go through.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” I announce.
Jasper disappears down the hall, only to return a few minutes later with a wrapped box. He sets it on my lap and starts cleaning up the cake mess. Am I supposed to open this now? He’s not even over here watching.
I glance up and catch Jameson’s eye. He winks at me and nods, encouraging me to open the gift. I pull on the ribbon and rip off the bow before digging into the paper. Inside, I find the most gorgeous journal. When I remove the book, I realize it’s not really a journal. It’s a recipe book, and it’s blank, ready for me to fill it in.
My gaze moves to the counter, where Jasper is working intently on sealing the cake into a container. When he doesn’t look my way, I stand and head toward him. “Hey,” I whisper, when I’m right beside him.
“Hi.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, my voice clouded with emotion. “I love it.”
He shrugs, keeping his hands busy. “I just thought you could add some of your own recipes in it. I’m sure you have them all memorized, so it’s probably a stupid gift,” he stammers, seeming completely unsure of himself for the first time since I’ve known him. Jasper’s always so confident, but not now.
I set the book on the counter and slip m
y arms around his waist. I hug into him until he stops moving. I feel him relax as he wraps his arms around my neck and holds me tight. “It’s an amazing gift. Thank you,” I repeat, glancing up.
He smiles softly. “So, maybe you could show me your appreciation later?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
I giggle. “I think we used up all the icing.”
A heavy laugh spills from his mouth. “Good thing I have a whole pantry full of supplies then, huh?”
***
I’m snuggled against his chest, listening to the steady thunder of his heartbeat against my cheek. My body is completely sated, and I’m not sure I could form complete sentences yet. This man does things to me I’ve never experienced before. Not only in bed, but outside of it too. I enjoy running new ideas by him, different flavor options, or listening to him share about his day.
But what has my attention now is his words from earlier. Twice, he called me his girl. Right before he gave me that amazingly thoughtful gift. Considering the fact he just found out it was my birthday two days ago, he did well on short notice.
“If you’re able to still think that hard, I didn’t do my job right,” he says, a soft chuckle rumbling against my skin.
“You did your job just fine,” I mutter, placing a kiss on his chest and running my fingers through the dark hair peppered between his defined pecs.
“Fine. What every man loves to hear,” he teases with a hint of sarcasm.
Now it’s my turn to chuckle. “No, that part was more than fine.”
Jasper turns me on my side and faces me. “Then, what’s up?”
His deep brown eyes hold a touch of concern and wonder, and even though he hasn’t struck me as the “talking” type, I find myself opening up to him and saying what’s on my mind. “So…tonight you called me your girl.”
“I did. Twice, actually,” he replies, swiping a strand of hair off my cheek and moving it behind my ear. “Does that bother you?”
Does it? I realize quickly the answer is no.
I shake my head. “It doesn’t, but I guess I’m just curious as to what it means.”
He takes a deep breath and places his hand against my cheek. “To be honest, I don’t really know, but when I said it, I didn’t regret the words. I like you, Lyndee. I enjoy spending time with you, even though we don’t get that much of it. Between your schedule and mine, I find when we do actually get to share a meal or hang out, I enjoy it a lot.”