Sweet Bliss

by Helena Rac

  “Evil, Kick-Ass Plan? God, Tessa, you’re adorable.” He shakes his head and chuckles. “Maybe I have an Evil, Kick-Ass Plan to counter yours.”

  “Oh, you do? I didn’t think you were much of a planner, if I recall.”

  “Maybe not. But I do plan on kissing you again. To start. I’ll figure out the rest as I go.”

  I should give his plan a name. “Pure Action” would be quite fitting, because his lips meet mine, and within seconds we’re right where we left off. I don’t know what it is about his lips, but I can’t get enough. I love kissing him. I love stroking his hair while we kiss. I love inhaling his fresh scent as I breathe. His mouth is greedy, needing mine the same way I need his. His hand travels up and cups my breast. He brings my nipple between his fingers, and as he pinches it, I cry out. My back arches and my pelvis pushes harder against his thickness. I am so turned on by him, I’m practically calling his cock to fuck me.

  “Damn, Tess,” he groans as he grabs another condom and rolls it on. This time he doesn’t seem to have the patience to discover me. Instead, he brings my leg overtop of his hip and penetrates me.

  “Oh god,” I moan, and I hear him grunt in response. The feeling of him like this, while we’re tangled in each other, is so intimate, yet intense. We find our rhythm and gain momentum. He’s so slick, coated in me, as he slides in and out. It feels as though I’m in some sort of crazed state, feverish in response to how he feels inside me.

  “You make me feel so good,” I manage to voice in between his thrusts.

  “I want to make you feel so good you’ll never want to feel anyone else but me.”

  I don’t think I will. Not after this. Not after the high I’m on, not after yet another orgasm shatters me.

  When we’ve worked through his plan and are back to enjoying the comfort of tangled-body silence, Luke looks at me with drunken eyes and says, “Stay the night, Tess. Please?”

  I probably should really think about what he’s asking. I probably should evaluate the consequences. But right now, I am so comfy and cozy snuggled up right next to my stranger that my thoughts are focused merely on the here and now, and not on what I may be thinking tomorrow morning, when the aftereffects of Luke’s presence wear off.

  “Okay,” I whisper, and I settle in against his chest. He kisses the top of my head. I imagine he smiles contentedly as he takes a deep breath. Then his breathing evens and his chest relaxes. And before I know it, we both drift off to sleep.

  Chapter 14

  I wake up in the middle of the night and feel unfamiliar warmth around me. The scent of the body next to mine is foreign yet familiar and so captivating that I’m in a momentary trance. As I blink my eyes open and take a few seconds to process where I am, last night’s memories rush in. I can’t help but smile when I realize the warmth that envelops me belongs to none other than Luke. His body is wrapped around me. He definitely is a cuddler. I have to admit, I’m enjoying the cuddling a lot more than I thought I would. He can invade my personal space all he wants. I can still feel the ghosts of kisses he left on me and retrace his lips touching my mouth, my skin, and the achy spot that seems to have no regard for my current state because it’s screaming, “I want more!”

  As I purr over happy thoughts of the night we had, out of nowhere a promise I once made to myself sneaks in. I don’t date. I especially don’t do long-distance romances.

  No no no! I am not going there.

  But the thought takes hold and nearly squeezes the air out of me. Near-panic strikes without warning, and I am back to being Rational Tessa, the Tessa I am so familiar with. That Tessa reminds me that Luke will be gone in a week and that this is just a fling. She reminds me that it’s better to walk away before things get too serious. That Tessa slowly pulls out from underneath the strong arms that feel so incredibly warm and safe around her and decides that it’s better to cut her losses. Break, detach, run.

  Stealthy like a shadow, I pick my clothes up off the floor and start getting dressed, but I have no idea where my panties are. I remember is Luke pulling them down my legs, and then my mind goes blank for a moment. All I can remember is the ecstasy of the moments that followed; nothing else. I nearly feel the rush again. My heartbeat is speeding up like I’m being chased. Though, I try to reason, the sneaking out probably has something to do with that rush I feel.

  Unable to find them, I decide it’s best to go commando. The last thing I want is to have Luke wake up in the middle of my ninja-like mission. I pull my dress on and grab my sandals between my fingers so that I won’t risk making any noise. Then I take one last look at the gorgeousness that is spread out on the bed. Too bad this is the end. But this is the rational thing to do after a hookup, right? I know he asked me to stay, but he was probably just high on lust. This is not the first time he’s had sex with a girl – he’s had plenty. I’m certain he didn’t actually mean for me to stay, and he’d likely be wondering why I’m still here in the morning. Awkward.

  Once I’m home, the sleep that I thought would so easily come does not. I toss and turn and stare at the ceiling, unable to process what I’m feeling. Why am I feeling anything? We had sex! I hate that I feel anything but relief for having left Luke’s bedroom.

  There’s no point in trying to get to sleep once the first ray of sunlight finds its way through the blinds. I look at the clock; it’s only six. Since I’m the one with the early shift today, prolonging this futile attempt at sleep is pointless. I take a long, hot shower, reminiscing about the kisses Luke left all over. I try to wash it all away, hoping the sensual feeling will just disappear.

  But it sticks with me, even after I shower. I need a distraction, and I need it fast. Work is my salvation. I’m positive I’ll have a productive day, especially since I’m going to try very hard to focus on nothing but work. I pull my hair back, put on a summery dress, and am at Lovely Cakes by seven.

  I’ve owned Lovely Cakes for close to three years now. After I got my BA – a “backup plan,” as my dad liked to refer to it (he wanted to make sure both Clara and I had a formal education first and foremost) – I pursued a degree in baking and pastry. Two years later, I’d done it: I was a professionally trained pastry chef.

  Even though my dad died unexpectedly, he’d made sure we were well taken care of. Mom, Clara, and I received a nice sum of money from his life insurance and the sale of his business. I invested my portion, and by the time I was done college, I had enough money saved up to start what I’d always dreamed of. The only thing I needed was the courage to make my dream a reality.

  I don’t know where he heard it, but my dad used to say, “In moments of decision, destiny is shaped.” And he was right. After putting together an impressive business plan, evaluating the pros and cons of venturing off on my own, and figuring out the various scenarios of how I would survive financially, I took the leap of faith and Lovely Cakes was born. I haven’t looked back since. It’s been the biggest and best decision I’ve made thus far in my life. But a calculated decision. I knew the risks, and I did everything I could to make sure they didn’t materialize. After all, I had a plan; I’d made a list. Both extremely useful, I might add.

  I started small, barely breaking even the first few months, but I’d fully expected that would be the case. I focused on designing custom cakes and specialty desserts. I attended wedding trade shows, advertised in local magazines, and gave out free samples of my creations. I even offered cake decorating classes. To make the bakery more unique, I decided to incorporate my love of tea, undoubtedly my mom’s British influence, to complement the sweets and treats – a perfect pairing. Sourcing local loose-leaf teas seemed like a great way to draw in added clientele and convert them into dessert lovers. Word of mouth spread quickly, and about six months later, things started turning around. I had orders coming in for weddings, birthday parties, baby showers, and all sorts of corporate events. And Lovely Cakes was bursting with both regular and new customers who enjoyed visiting the bakery to meet with friends, read, or j
ust simply relax.

  Since then, Lovely Cakes has grown significantly, but it hasn’t lost its small-business charm. I have six part-time employees plus Rose, the only other full-time person on staff besides me.

  I have a gift for creativity and have inherited the entrepreneurial gene from my dad. Sound business sense and planning skills have served me well. I know that I could never work for anyone else. I crave that sense of control, that knowledge that each decision I make is mine and mine alone. The satisfaction that comes from being successful because of the decisions I’ve made is extremely rewarding.

  I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished in such a short period of time. I think I always knew I had it in me, but it wasn’t until the first time I posted that OPEN sign on the door that I realized just how much influence my dad had on my decision to pursue this exciting venture.

  My dad moved from Italy to Chicago full of big dreams, with even bigger holes in his pockets. But he was charismatic, smart, and ambitious. After trying out a few jobs over the first couple of years, he decided to start his own construction business and became pretty successful. I know I must have gotten that entrepreneurial spirit, that drive and passion, from him. Whenever he asked what I wanted to do when I grew up, I always said I wanted to run my own business, just like him. It’s just too bad he didn’t live to see me do it. But that was all the more reason I was determined to succeed.

  I plan on spending the day working on the crimson sugar roses and petals that will be scattered over the layers of Clara and Marcus’s five-tier wedding cake. Antique Swarovski crystal brooches shaped like rosebuds are going to accentuate the sugar roses, bringing sparkle to the whole look. It’s going to be amazing, and it’s going to take time to put it all together the way I’ve envisioned it. Clara has no idea what it will look like, but I’ve incorporated all of her favorites – roses, sparkle, sinful red velvet and decadent chocolate – into this creation. I’m certain she’ll love it. I also know it’s going to take pretty much the rest of the week to perfect it.

  First things first: I’m in a dire need of caffeine, given the less than restful sleep, so I go for a traditional English breakfast black tea this morning. While it’s steeping, I put on my apron and get the mixing bowls and utensils ready. Just as I line up all the ingredients on the work room table, I hear a loud knock at the front door. Rose has a key; other staff don’t normally come in this early. Who could it be?

  Somewhat annoyed about being interrupted, but nevertheless intrigued, I go to the front door and what – rather, whom – I see is completely unexpected. What is Luke doing here? We’re not even open yet. Perhaps he felt like having something sweet for breakfast on his way to work and decided to stop by? I don’t think that’s it, though, because his distraught face doesn’t scream “I’m hungry.” He’s sporting jogging pants and a plain white t-shirt. He’s scruffier than I remember him being last night, his eyes are wide and … hmm, furious? He may be angry, but all I notice is how sexy he looks. Really, it’s not even fair. The man is more delicious than any of the cakes on display in the window.

  Then I remember the likely reason he’s less than pleased. My ninja-like escape. Uh-oh.

  As I unlock the door, he bursts into the store.

  “What the fuck, Tess?”

  “Well, good morning to you too,” I say calmly as I lock the door and make my way to the work room. He grunts at my reply but follows me nonetheless. Before I manage to slide behind the table to keep some distance between us, he grabs me by my shoulder and turns me to face him.

  “What happened to you last night? I woke up this morning and you were gone. I called you, like, fifteen times, left messages … and nothing. I haven’t heard a single word back from you.”

  “First of all, fifteen times would be borderline stalkerish.” I try to make light of the situation, though I’m not sure I’m succeeding from the look of exasperation on his face. “Second of all, I haven’t had my phone on since last night.” I respond nonchalantly and go back to working on the cake, as if everything is a-okay. That will be an interesting set of messages to listen to later.

  “Fine, it wasn’t fifteen, but it was several. It’s just, you made me so damn worried. I had no idea where you were, why you left, if you were okay.” He seems genuinely concerned.

  “Well, I’m fine. So no need to worry.” I smile innocently, hoping to ease the tension he’s created.

  “No need to worry?” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fuck, Tess, I went by your place, buzzed your apartment for five minutes before realizing you weren’t coming down. This was the only other place I knew,” he continues, as if trying to justify why he barged in here like a crazy person. ’Cause right now, he really is acting kind of crazy. Maybe he’s just being protective, though. He pulls me by my hand and looks at me with a mix of anger and concern. “You can’t just leave like that.”

  “Why not?” I retort. “Why does it even matter? We just had sex. You didn’t actually expect me to stay the night, did you?”

  His look changes as if something just registered with him. “Actually, I did.”

  Oh. Well, completely misread that one.

  “But, I just thought … I mean, it’s not something people normally do after a one-night hookup, is it?”

  “But I asked you to stay. Why didn’t you?”

  “Because it made no sense, that’s why. I mean, you’re leaving in a week. Staying the night would … complicate things. It would mean something, when it doesn’t mean anything. It can’t…” I trail off as I try to convince myself.

  “Tess, maybe I want complicated. I want it to mean something. I want to give us a try. Don’t you?” His voice is gentle, almost pleading.

  His answer surprises me, but it shouldn’t. Luke has been honest about his intentions since he arrived. I’ve been too pragmatic, too set in a I’m-happy-being-on-my-own frame of mind before I spent time with him. I take a minute to respond because my mind is racing trying to figure out what I want to say.

  “I do … and I don’t. I mean, I don’t know…” It’s like I’m afraid to trust my instincts. And his. “I just… I don’t do this well.”

  “This?” He asks, confused.

  “This … us. Whatever this is,” I say, almost as confused.

  “I would call this giving chemistry a chance to develop into something more.” He sounds so convincing.

  “How can you be so sure that it will?”

  “I told you already. Unlike you, I don’t need to think this through. I know what my instincts are telling me. I don’t need any lists. You, Tess, are the one I want.” He’s not making this easy on me.

  “I just … I can’t let myself get hurt again. I just can’t.” I look down, avoiding his eyes, not letting him see the way he’s affecting me. My voice is a shaky mess.

  “You can’t or you don’t want to?” I shrug as if uncertain. “Tessa,” Luke says softly. I don’t dare look up. “Look at me.” He pulls at my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. “I’m not like him. Trust me.”

  I know he’s not – he’s nothing like Jason. I trust Luke. I just don’t think I’m ready to trust myself.

  “Tessa, say something. Anything. Just don’t give me the silent treatment. Say that last night wasn’t just fun and games for you. Say that it meant something more.”

  That’s exactly the problem. It felt like it was more. Why am I making this more difficult than it needs to be? Why can’t I just let my brain take a vacation somewhere warm and sunny so it can relax and let my feelings take over decision-making instead?

  I need to pull away from him so I have space to think. I break from his hold and walk back to the table. I childishly stare at the ingredients – the icing sugar, the food coloring, the butter. It’s simple. I know exactly what to do to make them flourish. But this, with Luke – I have no idea what to do, what to say. So I’m stuck there. Staring. Thinking. Overthinking.

  “Last night was…” I hesitate and take a deep sigh. Wonderful, passion
ate, romantic – those are all the words that would describe last night, but instead I choose to whisper, “Fine,” as I turn to look at him.

  “Fine?” he sounds frustrated. Hmm. I’m guessing it’s not quite the answer he was after. “Do I need to remind you what ‘fine’ felt like last night?”

  I shrug. “Maybe?”

  I may have just pushed his last button.

  “Was it fine when I took these off?” He pulls my black lace panties out of his pocket.

  Well, at least I found my underwear. I was actually worried that I’d never get them back. They’re one of the few lacy pairs I own. Kind of expensive, too. But I digress.

  He takes a step closer, but I have a feeling he won’t just pass them along without asking for something in return. No, I’m pretty sure he’s going to make me work for them.

  “And when I made you desperate for me?”

  Another step closer. I suck in a nervous breath and feel myself blush.

  “Was it fine when you screamed my name as you climaxed around my cock?”

  That was, in fact, more than fine.

  The subtle anger combined with frustration are turning Luke into an irresistible predator. With one more step he is so close that our lips are nearly touching. He holds my gaze with a look that says he’s in control, and that look is so damn sexy. The hairs on my arms stand up from the rush I feel from him being so close to me. I’m trapped between him and the table, with nowhere to run. I’m squeezed so tight against him that I can feel his hard-on push against my belly. Certain body parts of mine are getting so excited in response that I’ve forgotten what this conversation was all about. Something about whether things were fine last night, I think. Yes, that’s what it was.

  I’m about to open my mouth and say, “It was more than fine,” but as I do, he places his fingers gently on my lips, preventing me from speaking.

  “Shhh,” he says softly, but the greediness in his eyes remains. “I fucking want you, Tess. I wanted you the first time I saw you. I wanted you that night at the movies. I’ve wanted you ever since I landed after what seemed to be the longest fucking flight I ever took. I wanted you last night, and I want you again. I can’t seem to get enough of you. So don’t give up on me now.”