Sweetest Temptations

by J.C. Valentine

  “When was the last time you took a day off? Go sit down. I’m cooking tonight.”

  “I’m starting a business. There’s no such thing as a day off right now.”

  With a swat on the butt and a warning look, I took the not-so-subtle hint and plopped my rear onto a bar stool with a huff. I had to admit, the change of scenery was kinda nice. A man in the kitchen, cooking for me? This should be interesting.

  With my chin propped on my hands, I watched Kennedy prepare vegetables and meat, adding them to a large skillet to create a stir-fry. As he moved on to the rice, I took note of his use of spices for future reference. If the smell was any indication of what to expect, I was in for a treat.

  “You’re really good at this stuff. Do you get a lot of practice at the fire station?”

  Kennedy’s mouth twitched as he stood, shirtless, in front of the stove. Good lord, he was amazing to look at. All those yummy muscles on display. My mouth watered for something other than food. “I’ve picked up a few things there, yeah. But, in general, I like to cook. I like knowing what I’m putting into my body.”

  I felt my eyebrows rise. “Tell me you’re not one of those health nuts. If you say a word about my cookie eating habits, I swear I’ll shove my size nine up your ass.”

  “Ouch, and no. I just prefer making my own food whenever I can. There’s a certain satisfaction that comes with doing it yourself. I’m sure you can relate.”

  I could. Part of what I loved most was working with my hands. When I came up with a new recipe—and it worked—the sense of pride that came with it was unparalleled. I watched, rapt, as Kennedy tended to the foods, his strong hands expertly stirring, flipping, and whipping. Not a speck of grease dared leap from the pan to scald that bronzed skin, and despite the heat kicking off the stovetop, he hadn’t broken a sweat either. “Seriously, are you a robot? There’s no way you’re this perfect.” I thanked him as he handed me a plate piled with teriyaki steak and vegetables on a bed of fried rice.

  “I’d hardly call myself perfect,” Kennedy said as he sat down beside me.

  Holding up my hand, I ticked off my fingers with each point made. “You have a steady job. You know how to cook and bake. You’re thoughtful and considerate. You have a sense of humor that doesn’t weird me out. You’re ridiculously hot. Seriously, what is wrong with you? I have to be missing something, because no one is this perfect.”

  Smirking, Kennedy shook his head as he fluffed his rice with his fork. “Nobody’s perfect, least of all me, but if you’re looking for skeletons in my closet, you won’t find any.”

  “So you’re not hiding a wife and kids in another state?”

  “Nope.”

  “The FBI isn’t looking for you?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “You don’t moonlight as a cross dresser?”

  “Only once back in high school, but that was a bet.”

  I made a mental note to return to that one later. “So you’re really just an average guy? What you see is what you get?”

  “Precisely.”

  Huh. Taking a bite of my food, I chewed thoughtfully. “Well, given how average you claim to be, I hope you can keep up with me.”

  “Oh? How’s that?”

  “I’ve been told I can be a handful.” It was my mother who told me that. Actually, her exact words were I feel sorry for the man you marry. All I can say is that I hope he knows what he’s getting himself into. I took it as a compliment. Being a handful meant that I was a challenge, which meant that I wasn’t a pushover and my relationships would never be boring. To date, both had proven true.

  Looking over his shoulder, Kennedy scoped out my backside. “I happen to like having my hands full.”

  “That’d better be a compliment,” I teased.

  “That was a ringing endorsement.” Leaning over, Kennedy brushed his lips against mine. “You have a fantastic ass, sweet. I plan to eat dessert off it.”

  “Is that so?” My body began to heat as my pulse began to race. Dessert and Kennedy’s lips on my ass was a very appealing idea. Even more appealing? Dessert and my lips on Kennedy’s ass.

  Kennedy’s eyes turned molten as he stared into mine. “The faster you finish your dinner, the faster we get to dessert…and the sooner I get to eat. You. Up.”

  I’d never eaten so fast in my life.

  ***

  Every inch of my body was a sticky mess. As soon as we finished eating our meal, Kennedy gathered a can of whipped cream and a jar of maraschino cherries he’d found in the fridge, and lured me into the bedroom.

  The things we’d done to each other with food had to be a crime somewhere. There wasn’t a place on my body that Kennedy hadn’t licked clean, and there wasn’t a place on his that I hadn’t returned the favor. My body positively hummed as I lay sprawled across the bed, waiting for the tub to fill.

  “You have the most incredible breasts I have ever seen,” Kennedy said as he reentered the room. Looking up through barely open eyes, I watched him move toward me, each hard muscle moving sinuously beneath burnished skin. My eyes lingered on the heavy weight between his legs, and my exhausted body stirred to life as I thought of the sinful things that hard appendage had done to it over the last few hours. Kennedy knew exactly how to work it, how to make me scream.

  Climbing onto the bed, I barely had enough energy left to lift my arms in welcome. The feel of Kennedy’s warm, naked body draped across mine made me tingle straight to my toes. Nuzzling my neck, his hot breath on my skin, almost made me forget that we were both a sticky mess.

  “Bath,” I gasped as I felt his hardening erection press against my silky opening. It wouldn’t take much, and he’d slide right in. As much as I wanted to feel him inside of me again, the need to wash the sugary filth from my body won out.

  Rocking his hips, Kennedy entered me halfway, his cock gliding in and out smoothly, just enough to send my mind reeling. And then he pulled out and away. “Tease.” I hurled the accusation at him and swirled my hips wantonly, wanting him to come back and finish what he’d started. Instead, Kennedy just stood at the edge of the bed, watching me with those sparkling, seductive eyes, and grinned.

  “Time to wash you up, sweet. Come,” he said, holding out his hands to me. “Let me wash you.”

  Pushing out my bottom lip, I allowed him to pull me to my feet. I shrieked in surprise as the world flipped upside down, and I found myself staring at his naked ass. “What are you doing?”

  “You said you wanted to see what a fireman’s hold was like.”

  “There’s only one problem with that,” I pointed out, while squeezing his firm globes in my hands and giving them a good smack. No jiggle. “There’s no fire to rescue me from.”

  “Oh, sweet, there’s definitely a fire, and you’re about to find out just how hot it can get.”

  The resounding crack of his open palm against my butt cheek echoed through the bathroom, mingling with the pounding of running water as it filled the tub. I cried out, unable to stop myself. But before I could express myself with actual words, Kennedy took full advantage of my position and shoved two thick fingers into me. My body ached with a sudden surge of arousal, and I moaned as my head dropped and my eyes slid closed.

  “Like that, do you?” His voice was low and rough, and I found myself squirming in response. I knew that tone. It meant that Kennedy was on the edge, his desire for me a pressing need that would be answered sooner rather than later. “Oh, yeah, you do. I can see how much you like it, sweet. Fuck, you have a sexy ass. And I could stare at your wet pussy all day.”

  His fingers continued to work their magic in a slow, steady rhythm that kept me teetering on the brink of orgasm. It was sheer torture. Willing my eyes open, I caught the angle of the room, and felt the rest of the blood in my body fill my cheeks. “Are you watching yourself finger me in the mirror?”

  “It’s a killer view, babe. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  For some reason, knowing that Kennedy
was staring at me like that, made me quiver. I wasn’t normally so open when it came to sex, but the idea of being on display, of him looking at me so intimately, caused a fresh wave of excitement to rush through me.

  “Then why don’t you show me?”

  My world righted itself as Kennedy flipped me upright, taking time to make sure I was steady on my feet before releasing me completely. I waited while he checked the temperature of the bathwater and, with his help, eased inside.

  The water was perfect, and when Kennedy eased in behind me, creating the perfect space for me between his thighs, I lay back against his chest and sighed. “This is perfect,” I told him.

  Cupping water in his hands, Kennedy dragged it over my chest, warming my exposed skin. The instant the water receded and the cool air struck me, my nipples puckered to stiff points. “These are perfect,” he murmured, testing the heavy weight of my breasts in his palms. My core tightened as he stroked his thumbs over my nipples, and I released a barely audible moan.

  “Keep doing that. Don’t stop.” In the two days that we had begun to learn each other’s bodies, Kennedy had mapped all the places on my body that drove me crazy when he touched them, and memorized them. Now, it was a matter of minutes before he turned me to putty in his hands, and he took full advantage.

  Nuzzling the crook of my neck, Kennedy dragged his lips over my heated flesh. The low, approving growl that rumbled in his chest each time my body responded to his touch, pushed me closer to the edge of total destruction. If I didn’t put an end to this soon, surely I’d die, and my tombstone would read “Here lies Abigail Satcher. She died from too many orgasms.” All in all, it seemed a pretty fantastic way to go out, so for the moment, I was keeping my lips sealed.

  “You said you wanted me to show you,” Kennedy said, his mouth brushing my ear. I moaned in response, wondering what he meant, and eager to find out. One thing I had learned about him was that Kennedy was a creative lover. He had no inhibitions, no hang-ups whatsoever. If it felt good, he was game.

  Placing his hands on the insides of my thighs, he spread me open, placing every part of me on display. Scooting down just a little, my insides turned molten as his hard cock sprang up between us, standing tall enough to breach the water’s surface. Behind me, I could feel Kennedy’s heart beating hard and steady, and when he fit his chin on my shoulder, we both watched in anticipation as his hands wandered slowly down my body. He played with my breasts, and then lingered on my stomach, tracing the edges of my belly button, before going lower. I jolted when he cupped my mound, my legs twitching as he slid his finger through my slick folds, and when he took his length in hand, I lost my breath.

  Watching him slide into my body was the most erotic experience I’d ever had. Blood pumped feverishly in my veins, causing my body to plump and blossom like a flower around him. Kennedy’s guttural moan in my ear as he lifted his hips and pumped himself inside of me sent me even higher. Water lapped all around us, spilling over the edges of the tub. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered in that moment other than the way we felt joined together.

  I couldn’t take my eyes away from the sight of us coming together. The slow glide of his cock entering and retreating, his fingers making slow circles over my clit, spreading my lips wide so we could both watch. When Kennedy’s breathing intensified, his stomach muscles clenched, and his thrusts grew more wild and frenzied, I knew he was getting close. In turn, I felt my own orgasm answer the call.

  Covering his hand with mine, I helped him find the perfect rhythm to finish me off, and together, we came. Loudly.

  Banging on the ceiling ensued, and I reached behind me, running my fingers through Kennedy’s hair, and pulled at the roots as we shouted our release for all the building to hear. I didn’t care. My love for him was something to be celebrated.

  As we returned to earth, our breaths heavy and hearts pounding in our chests, I laughed. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. “Wow. Why haven’t I ever done that before?”

  “Because everyone before me was a boring, selfish slob. Face it, sweet, I know how to make your body sing.”

  As his member softened and slipped free, I longed for more. More sex. More him. More time. I had two more days with him before Kennedy had to return to his shifts at the station, and I wanted to soak him in thoroughly.

  Turning over, I straddled his lap, tied my fingers behind his neck, and stared into his eyes. “You’re a dangerous man,” I whispered, lowering my mouth to his, “but I look forward to singing for you more.”

  13

  “So you’re Ken.” Hope flipped her long, golden locks over her shoulder, and smiled prettily at my boyfriend. Uh, friend. Bedmate? We’d been dating for going on two weeks, and I had no idea what to call him.

  Ever the charming man, Kennedy stood and stretched his arm across the table, gripping her hand and giving it two firm pumps. “Very good to meet you, Hope. Abby has told me absolutely nothing about you.” My jaw dropped and he winked at me, instantly forgiven.

  I’d woken up to several texts this morning, all from Hope teasing about how I’d ditched her for my new boy toy and threatening to stuff her face full of pie if she didn’t get to meet him ASAP. After putting in a full shift at the bakery, and leaving at a reasonable hour with a promise from Dex to close up, Kennedy and I drove straight to the restaurant to meet up with Hope. This was a classic case of two worlds colliding. I had hoped to keep him to myself for a little longer, but those plans were quickly going down the drain. He already knew my sister, and he’d met Dexter. Now Hope. All that was left was for him to meet my parents. That was something I was putting off as long as possible.

  Hope pressed her hand to her chest, feigning hurt feelings. “You haven’t told him anything about your best friend?”

  Laying my napkin across my lap, I gave her my best innocent eyes. “How could I ever describe your beauty? Your incredible grace? Your amazing sense of style? Words wouldn’t do you justice, so I thought it better to have him see for himself in person.”

  Hope preened, enjoying the overindulgence of praise. “I can see how that might be a problem. You’re forgiven.” This was why she was my best friend. She and I went together like chocolate and ice cream—perfect. In the years we had known each other, we rarely ever fought, and if we did, it was never mean-spirited and was always resolved quickly. We simply understood each other.

  “So,” I said, turning to Kennedy, “what do you think of her?”

  Kennedy’s smile was radiant in the way that made my heart jump. The man was truly something to behold, and his beauty went so much deeper than the skin. He was gorgeous inside and out. “From what I can tell of her, Hope is everything you said she was. But,” he added, hooking the back of my neck and pulling me close, “she doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

  His kiss was fast and sweet, just a peck, really, but it held enough promise to spark my imagination. I had to shake my head to clear it, and when I looked up, Hope wore an insanely giddy smile, her hands clasped together under her chin, and I knew. We had a bathroom meeting in the near future.

  “You two make a perfect couple,” Hope said, sizing us up. “With your hair color and Ken’s…everything, your kids are going to be insane.”

  “Whoa, there. Pump the brakes,” I laughed, while perusing the menu. “We’ve barely started dating. Kids are not even up for discussion at the moment.”

  “Why not?” Kennedy’s question caught me off guard. My gaze swung up to meet his, stunned. “I think we’d make great looking kids.”

  “Of course we would. Look at us. But seriously, we hardly even know each other. We’re not even official, so it’s way too early to be discussing this.” There, I said it. Just slapped that issue right down on the table. Now to see what he’d do with it.

  “We’re official,” Kennedy said, his brows scrunching in the middle. “Why would you say we weren’t official?”

  “You never asked me to be your girlfriend,” I replied easily, scanning the menu once more
.

  “I didn’t realize we were still in high school.”

  My head snapped up as Kennedy pushed his chair out and stood. “Where are you going?” He couldn’t seriously be leaving. Had I really upset him? Panic rose up in my chest like a dark, oppressive cloud before a storm.

  Brushing his hands down his shirt, Kennedy looked around. “So how do we do this? Do I get down on one knee, or should I ask your father for permission first?”

  Hope burst out laughing so loud and hard, I was surprised she didn’t split her sides open. “You didn’t tell me he had a sense of humor too! Seriously, Ken, do you have a brother?”

  “Please, sit down,” I begged, noticing the people seated at nearby tables watching us. I hated being the center of attention. A bit of light praise, sure, but I was the kind of girl who thrived on silent appreciation. Which is why I was so very grateful for Dexter coming to work for me. He loved being in the limelight, so manning the front counter was the perfect place for him, and the kitchen was the perfect place for me.

  “In a minute.” My face burned as Kennedy dropped down on both knees in front of me. Taking both of my hands in his, he looked up at me through those incredibly bright and soulful eyes. “Abigail, my sweet, will you do me the great honor of being my girlfriend?”

  “Is this where I cry and flutter my hands? I feel like I should be crying.” I laughed off my nervous embarrassment, my go-to defense against all things uncomfortable.

  “I wouldn’t be opposed to a tear or two,” Kennedy replied, smirking. “It’ll let me know you care.”

  Taking a deep breath, I thought of the saddest thing I could think of—Humane Society commercials. Those sad, furry faces and Sarah McLachlan’s heavenly voice in the background. It was inspiration enough to become a little misty-eyed. Kennedy appeared a little startled, and majorly impressed.