First Comes Love (New Castle Book 1)

by Lydia Michaels

  He breathed. “Okay, don’t move. Let me get this frosting started and then I’ll clean you up.” Of course the frosting took more minutes than a three-year-old could stay still. “Snow!” She giggled, scooping handfuls of powder and tossing it into the air.

  “Mia, don’t do that, sweetie.”

  She smiled at him, legs twisting in the mess, feet waving left to right. A trail of tiny footprints swirled all around her. He sighed. At least that would occupy her for a few minutes so he could figure out what the hell was going on at the stove.

  Quickly scanning the recipe, he realized five things. One, he forgot to preheat the oven. That was a quick fix. Two, he should have removed the first chocolate mix to cool a while ago. Three, the mix was supposed to be added before the batter. Four, he should have been constantly stirring what was now a chocolate boulder glued to the end of the spatula. And five, he was never baking with a three-year-old again.

  As the oven preheated, he quickly righted as many wrongs as possible. Pouring the batter into a new bowl, he mixed in the chocolate sauce. There wasn’t time to let it cool and he didn’t see the point when it was going into the oven.

  Mia ran into the living room and he tossed the bowl on the counter to chase after her. “Mia, where are you going?”

  She giggled as he scooped her off her feet before she could leave a floured Mia print on the sofa. Holding her under his arm like a football, he pulled all the dishes from the sink with his free hand. When the basin was empty, he stuffed a rag in the drain and sat Mia there. “Stay put.”

  “Why am I in the sink?” she laughed.

  “So that I can get this cake in the oven.” The burnt smell was getting worse. “Mia, did you put more flour than I measured out?”

  Little Miss Innocent shrugged.

  The oven beeped. Setting the timer, he slipped the pans in the oven, and shut the door. With a sigh he turned to face the disaster that was Kat’s kitchen.

  “Shit.”

  “Quarter!” Mia called from the sink.

  One, two, three, four, five, six… He counted until his nerves calmed. Everything—everything—was coated in white. Including Mia. He had no idea where to start.

  Unsure if giving Mia a bath was a no-no, he reached for a wet rag and started wiping the counters, which was a pain because the minute water touched flour it formed dough. Great.

  “Tyson, I wanna get out.”

  “Okay, sweetie, just give me a second.”

  He tossed the rag aside and went to the sink. Not good. “Don’t move.” Running to Mia’s room and found a fresh pair of PJs. “Okay, were going to clean you up before Mommy gets home.”

  “In my clothes?”

  Even the kid knows you don’t know what you’re doing. “Yup. Head back.”

  He adjusted the water and used a cup to rinse the flour from Mia’s hair and skin. Her clothes clung to her and she found the entire process hysterical. Him—not so much.

  He dried her with a dishtowel and peeled off her clothes, switching them out with clean pajamas. Once somewhat clean, he plopped her on the couch. “Now, you sit here while I tidy up the kitchen, okay?”

  She snuggled into the couch with a sippy-cup and a wet, messy head. He sighed and looked at the clock. Forty minutes until Kat was home.

  For the next thirty minutes he scrubbed the counters, wiped down the cabinets, swept and mopped the floor, and frosted the most lopsided cake he had ever made. Mia was sound asleep on the couch. When the cake was finally done, he sighed.

  “Saddest fuckin’ cake I’ve ever seen in my life,” he mumbled, pushing it back on the counter.

  The headlights of Kat’s car rolled over the front windows. He did a quick scan of the remaining damage. The sink was full of dishes, but the kitchen was—for the most part—clean.

  The knob turned and he straightened, trying to appear relaxed. Her happy expression faltered the moment she saw him. “What happened to you?”

  Crap. “Uh, what do you mean?”

  “Um…” Her lips pressed tight as her shoulders shook with laughter. “You’re all white.”

  He glanced at his arms and deflated. “I don’t know how you do it, Kat. Mia’s an angel, but boy is she a lot of work.”

  Her smile broadened. “Told you.” She shut the door and put down her supplies. “What happened?”

  “We made a cake for you.”

  She stilled and turned, eyes wide with gratitude that would no doubt vanish the moment she saw their culinary nightmare. “You did?”

  He nodded. “A white chocolate Swiss cake. I have no idea how it’s going to taste, though.”

  “Aw, Tyson! I want to hug you, but you’re filthy.”

  Eyes narrowing with mischief, he slowly stalked her into a corner, corralling her with his body, until she giggled at his mercy. He pressed a kiss to her neck. “Get messy with me, Kat.”

  “Where’s Mia?”

  “Sleeping on the couch.” He licked a trail from her collarbone to her ear and pulled the tiny little lobe between his teeth. Everything had the dry taste of flour.

  She moaned. “There’s a sink full of dishes.”

  “I’ll do them later. After I do you.”

  She laughed, weakly pushing him away. “Tyson, we can’t.”

  She was right, of course. He couldn’t take her with Mia right in the other room. But he wanted to. He pressed his hips against her front, searching for some kind of relief and kissed her.

  Slowly, he stepped back. “Why don’t you take Mia to bed while I handle these dishes? I’d carry her for you, but I’m a mess and she’s all clean.”

  By the time the last dish was scrubbed clean his hard on had settled. Even in high school it hadn’t been like that with other girls. She wrapped him in such. There was so much he wanted to do with her. As his mind ran through a detailed list of all those things his body began to harden again.

  Down, boy.

  He cleared his throat and returned the bowls to the cabinets as Kat returned in a pair of lounge pants that took her ass from adorable to fascinating. “So how was class?”

  “So fun. The teacher’s a local artist. She said I had a good understanding of light and told me to practice on landscapes during different times of the day.”

  “Are you going to?” Painting obviously was something she enjoyed and she should nurture that talent.

  “If there’s time.”

  He closed the cabinet. “Make time, Kat. If you like painting, make room for it in your life.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s hard when you start caring too much about things. Then life happens and it’s harder to make sacrifices.”

  “Hey,” he tipped up her chin. “Don’t be cynical.”

  “I stopped being optimistic a long time ago.” She was joking, but it wasn’t funny. True sadness rested behind her words.

  “Things will get easier, Kat. Everything takes time.” He’d make sure her life got easier. He could afford to help her out here and there. Lightening the mood, he said, “Well, next week we won’t be baking.”

  “You’ll sit with Mia again?”

  He was a little offended she assumed he wouldn’t. “Of course I will. I told you I would.”

  “I know, but…”

  “Kat, I’m not a quitter. Tonight was an education. Now, when I have my own kids, I’ll know three year olds are way too young for the culinary arts.”

  “You want kids?” her words were whispered, as if his answer meant a lot.

  “With the right woman? Of course.” He rested his arms on her shoulders and pulled her close. “I want a big family. How about you?”

  Her expression shuttered. “I think Mia’s all I’ll ever have.”

  “Why’s that?”

  She shrugged. “Guys who are interested in a family of their own don’t usually start with girls like me.”

  “That’s an awful lot of generalizing, kitten. I’m a guy who wants a family of his own and I think Mia’s an amazing kid. The la
st thing I see her as is a deterrent. And as far as girls like you…there aren’t any.”

  “Such a sweet talker.” She seemed to be laughing with him, not at him.

  “Hey, it’s my style.”

  She kissed his chin. “Well, I like your sweet talking style.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Summer had officially arrived and the temperature was at an all time high, as was her mood, which was probably the result of being sexually satisfied for the first time in her life. It was difficult to keep things platonic around Mia, but Tyson’s busy work schedule didn’t give them much time together during the week. She got in the habit of calling him at night after Mia fell asleep.

  “I bet you’re all cozy under those covers right now, aren’t you?” he teased. “Are you wearing one of those cute, frilly, little negligee things?”

  She looked down at her oversized, maternity shirt and snorted. “Sure.”

  He laughed at her unconvincing lie. “Mmm, is it silky?”

  She smirked. “Sure.”

  “Oh, baby, it’s so sexy when you lie to me,” he teased. “It’s that Got Milk shirt isn’t it? Or is it the one that says Parkside High? That one does it for me in a bad way.”

  “Oh, no,” she purred. “This one’s a very sexy old maternity shirt that says Under Construction with little bedazzled rhinestones. Some of the stones are even missing from going through the wash so many times.”

  He made a guttural sound of absolute arousal. It was torture talking to him, knowing he was only two doors away, lying in his own bed. “I’m gonna break into your house tonight and peel that shirt right off you.”

  “Don’t lie.”

  He sighed. “I miss you. I’m seriously considering sneaking into your bed. Mia’s a sound sleeper, right?”

  “No,” she laughed.

  “What’s on the legs?”

  Her mouth pulled into a smirk. “Nothing.”

  “Panties or no panties?”

  “Panties.”

  “What color? Describe them to me.”

  “They’re black. Cotton. Kind of old lady cut. Try to contain yourself.”

  He chuckled. “We’re going to have to take you shopping. You’re way too young for granny panties.”

  “I didn’t say they were granny panties. They’re more…middle-aged maiden.”

  “Hot.” His breath echoed against the phone. “Do me a favor.”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “Slide those middle-aged maiden panties off that sexy ass of yours.”

  She stilled, wondering if she could actually have a serious and sexy conversation with him on the phone. When they were joking around it was different.

  “Did you do it?”

  “Um…” Should she lie? He’d never know.

  As if he could read her mind he said, “I’ll know if you’re lying, kitten, so be honest.”

  Sighing, she shifted and slid the cotton underwear over her thighs and kicked them under the covers. “They’re off.” She heard movement on the other end. “Where are you?”

  “On my couch, but I’m imagining myself right next to you.”

  “Ty?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “What—what are we doing?”

  He cleared his throat and sounded like he was lying back. “We’re going to play a game.”

  “A game?”

  “Yup. It’s called Getting a Pussy Cat to Come. You ready, kitten?”

  Her mind froze. She could touch herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to orgasm. “Um, I think you’re going to lose.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “No, I’m just saying…I can’t…It’s different for me when you’re not here with me.”

  “You never touch yourself?”

  “Of course I touch myself. I just don’t touch myself.”

  “Are you opposed to touching yourself?”

  “No, but I don’t think you’re going to get the results you’re looking for.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. Shut off the lights.”

  She leaned over and turned off the lamp, submerging the room in darkness. “Okay.”

  “Good. I want you to imagine me there with you. I’m right beside you, under the covers, very close. Are you imagining it?”

  “Yes.” This was weird.

  “Think of my lips kissing your lips, softly, and trailing down your jaw to your ear. Can you feel me kissing you? You have a very sexy neck. I love how sensitive you are right where your pulse beats. Imagine me licking you there, nice and slow. Do you feel me?”

  Her legs shifted under the blanket as her fingers trailed over her throat. Pressure built as she shut her eyes and imagined everything he described. An ache spread from her lower body to her breasts.

  “I’m going to nibble a trail down to your shoulder and spend some time where I left that little mark there. You still have my love bite?”

  She smiled. It was her first hickey. “Yes. I had to change my shirt this morning so no one would see it at work.”

  “You afraid other guys might know you’re taken? Because I’m kind of liking the idea.”

  “There are no other guys. I covered it, because I didn’t want my boss to see it.”

  “Ah, the infamous Dr. Stevens—my competition.”

  She laughed, recalling how he’d originally thought she lived with her landlord and boss.

  “Okay, back to business,” he said. “So I’m nibbling, nice and slow down your neck and over your shoulder.”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “My arm slides under your back and I pull you close, pull myself on top of you. Make sure your thighs are parted so I have a place to kneel.”

  She slowly slid her knees apart, pretending the weight of the covers were actually his hard body.

  “Take your hand and pretend it’s mine. I slowly lift your shirt up over your breasts—ohh, that free under construction shirt turns me on. I trail my fingers between your breasts, slow and teasing. Your nipples tighten, but I don’t touch them. I just keep teasing the swell of your breasts and the valley in between. Are you touching yourself?”

  She sighed. “Mm-hm.”

  “Does it feel good?”

  “Yes,” she drowsily answered.

  “Don’t touch those nipples, kitten. Not yet. I slide my hand down your soft belly. Over and over, I touch you, drawing pictures on your skin, building your desire. Do you feel my breath on your skin?”

  Her spine stretched. It was becoming harder to answer as her fingers trailed over her stomach and back to her breasts. Her bottom dug into the bedding. She needed more.

  “Take your little pinkie and touch the tip of your right nipple. That’s my tongue teasing you.”

  She moaned.

  “Aw, see, you make sounds like that and my restraint goes right out the window. Pinch your titties, kitten. Feel my mouth sucking, biting, and licking over the tips?”

  Small noises formed in her throat. She wedged the phone between her shoulder and her ear so she could use both hands. Pinching and pulling, she played with various levels of tightness.

  He groaned. “Now my hand’s sliding between your legs. I tease the soft curls over your pussy and your legs open a little wider. Do you feel me teasing you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want me to keep going?”

  “Yes,” she breathed as her fingers gently brushed over her dewy curls.

  “God, you get me so hard, Kat.” Over his breathing she thought she heard the sound of his zipper coming down. He exhaled a long, slow sigh. “If I were there right now, you know what I’d be doing, kitten?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’d be licking up all that sweet, sweet cream. Do you feel my tongue tracing over your wet slit? I’d tease you nice and slow at first, get you shaking and begging. I’d come real close to your pretty pink clit, just like I did with those pretty pink nipples, but I wouldn’t touch.”

  “Tyson…”

  “I’m here, baby. My tongu
es teasing you with soft little licks as I finally run it over your clit.”

  She brushed the tight little bud and nearly shot off the bed.

  “Don’t stop. I’m relentless. Licking and sucking, flicking that little pearl with my tongue. Then, I slide a finger in deep, pumping it into your tight little pussy while my mouth works your clit.”

  She moved both hands between her legs. Her finger curled and slipped into her sex. Hot, wet, arousal coated her to the knuckle. She couldn’t reach deep, but her touch still brought relief as her fingers rubbed her clit.

  “Fuck. I’m so hard I gotta have you. You feel my big cock pressing at your opening? Stretching you? I can imagine your pussy gripping me.”

  She finally understood the draw of adult toys, wishing she had one. Her fingers pumped and she moaned.

  “That’s it, kitten. So close. I’m fucking you, rubbing your clit, and you’re squeezing my dick so tight. Feel me swelling inside you. I’m so close to coming, but I’m waiting for you. Are you close, baby?”

  Her body drew tight as a bow, leg muscles locking. Her stomach tightened and her neck extended. “Ohmygod…”

  He moaned and breathed into the phone as it slipped away from her ear. Tiny sparks of pleasure lit along her spine as she came undone under her own hand. Minutes passed as she stared into the darkness, trembling, as she slowly came back to herself. She found the phone under her pillow. “Ty?”

  “Open the door.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened as she quickly sat up.

  “Open the door, Kat.”

  Body still trembling, she fumbled through the dark and tiptoed to the front door. The deadbolt clicked and he was on her before she even saw him. His mouth crashed over hers and she was suddenly backed up against a wall.

  “So fucking hot,” he whispered as he ravaged her mouth.

  Her hands held on to his head, needing him in that moment apparently as much as he needed her.

  “Show me the fingers you used.”

  She raised the fingers of her right hand and blushed. Nostrils flaring, he sucked them into his mouth and her sex pulsed.

  “Fuck, Kat. You make me crazy. I got a situation in my pants I haven’t had since I was a teenager. And yet, I still want to fuck you right here against your fridge.”