Frisked in Fondant: Tulle and Tulips, Book 6

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Frisked in Fondant: Tulle and Tulips, Book 6 Page 7

by Nikki Duncan


  “Itchy, but otherwise no more than a minor nuisance unless I turn my head too fast.” She nodded toward his hand. “How’s your hand?”

  He flexed it, for the first time noticing the pain. He’d cut a knuckle, which would be annoying while it healed. Except it would be a reminder of the pleasure he’d found in the moment he’d wiped the smirk off Blake’s smug face.

  “It’s great.” He smiled and was rewarded with a smile from her.

  “You don’t have to look so pleased with yourself,” Dad said. He didn’t sound as surly as he should have. “I should put a reprimand in your file.”

  Kyle shrugged. “Be sure to include one in Blake’s.”

  “I think your fist carries a bit more impact with him. Your mother’s tongue will carry the most weight with you though.”

  “Great.” Kyle might have sunk into the chair, effectively chastised for his mistake, if Gisella hadn’t bumped his foot with hers.

  “I like that you defended me.” She wasn’t remotely put off by his violence or his dad’s presence. She made Kyle feel like more of a man than anyone or anything ever. She gave him a reason to care. Simply being in her atmosphere made his existence better.

  “Kyle, see Miss Sands safely home, and be prepared for your mother to call tonight.”

  Kyle nodded. If talking to his mom was his worst punishment he could handle it. He could diffuse her with six little syllables. I care about her, Mom.

  Chapter Seven

  Gisella was closer to her jovial self when she led Kyle into her kitchen. She went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer and held it out, silently asking if he wanted it. He shook his head. Beer was not on his list of wants for the night.

  She put it back and chuckled. “I can’t believe you hit Detective Blake.”

  “He was being an ass.” Kyle moved closer to Gisella. With the case officially closed she was no longer taboo. It didn’t make her less tempting.

  “Do you hit everyone who behaves like an ass?”

  He shook his head and took another step. “Blake was the first.”

  She drummed the pads of her fingertips on the island and smiled. “What made him different?”

  “You.” Kyle took another step. Only one or two separated them now. “I’d just listened to a recount of what happened here Friday night. He started badmouthing and it was too much.” He slid a finger along her bandage. “I couldn’t hit the asshole who did this to you, so Blake became the next best thing.”

  She swallowed. “Will you apologize to him?”

  “Probably not.” The sliver of regret inside himself wasn’t big enough to warrant that.

  “Your dad won’t make you?”

  “Maybe. Dad’s most effective form of torture is to leave us wondering what might or might not happen.” He circled the pad of his thumb across the patch of skin showing on her neck. Tension coiled in anticipation of more touches.

  “Do you always feel so much violence after a case?”

  “No. But apparently I don’t like other men to talk unkindly about you.”

  “It was an interesting side of you.” She raised her hand and rested it on his wrist. She didn’t dissuade his touches though. “I noticed another difference in you this afternoon.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re downright chatty. You’re even responding in more than fifteen-syllable phrases.”

  He shook his head. “How many syllables would it take me to talk you into sex?”

  Her gaze, full of fun and laughter, held his. “One.”

  One? What could he possibly say in one syllable to talk her into bed? Can I make love to you? had more than one syllable. Wanna go to bed? seemed too casual. Her name alone was more than one syllable.

  Have mercy? Take pity on me. Too long.

  The longer he thought about it, trying to count the syllables in everything which came to mind, the brighter she smiled. Damn, but she was sexy. He wanted to be with her, to spend as much time as possible getting to know her. He’d beg and plead if needed. Then his mind settled. He smiled, because he’d figured it out.

  “Please.”

  “I was thinking a grunted sex.” She reached forward and pushed his jacket off his shoulders. “I like yours better.”

  “Oh, you’re a dangerous woman, Gisella Sands.” He tugged her shirt from the waist of her pants.

  Seduced beyond an ability to think, he swept her into his arms and carried her to her room. He sat her gently on her feet. Intent on caressing her and bathing her in pleasure, he slowly removed her clothes. Clothes which left a lot to the imagination. Her curves were much more arousing when she was naked.

  “You’re amazing.”

  She blushed, which only enhanced her power. Talk about pushing his buttons.

  Hoping to regain the grip on his self-restraint, he stepped back to remove his own clothes. He tried not to rush, but he made quick work of stripping. Gisella watched. Her lip swept across her bottom lip and lingered. She ran a hand down her stomach toward the neatly trimmed patch of hair.

  She touched herself and released the tiniest of moans. He thought he’d orgasm then and there. Desperate not to go too soon, he took himself in hand and squeezed until it hurt. The pleasure seeking release retreated, but it didn’t go far.

  She turned and tossed the covers back. Her nakedness teased him. Her lack of insecurity despite her supposed inexperience tormented him. He’d held her, slept at her side, kissed her and felt her body against his. None of it was enough. It wouldn’t be enough until he was buried deep and taking his release while giving her hers.

  Arrested by his thoughts, he was taken by surprise when she took his hand and led him to the bed. She caught him off guard again when she maneuvered them so the backs of his legs bumped the bed.

  “Condom?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good.” With a gentle push against his stomach she pushed him to the mattress. “We could go without though, if you’re clean.”

  “I am.” He nearly swallowed his tongue when she crawled onto his lap. The woman didn’t behave like a virgin. “But there are other things to protect against.”

  Had that croak come from him?

  “I take the pill. I got tired of long and painful periods.” She shrugged, as if talking to him about her cycle was completely normal.

  Normal would be never hearing her mention a period again. Let alone any mention of any kind of detail. “More information than I needed.”

  “Just thought you should know.”

  “About the pills? Great.” He didn’t mind sex without a condom as long as it was safe and smart. “The rest? Never mention it again.”

  Her laugh rolled across him. He loved seeing her happiness, even if he didn’t like the route they’d taken to get there. Fortunately, she was a giving woman and was in the mood to release him from his torture.

  She wasn’t in the mood to drag things out through a lot of foreplay though. She moved closer, pressing her chest to his. Lifting herself, she reached behind her and took him in her hand. Holding him, she lowered herself onto him.

  Sheathed in her tight, moist warmth, his body roared for release. Kyle gritted his teeth and refused to go over with her. He didn’t even want to move until her body had time to adjust to the change.

  Gisella had another plan in mind. She rode him. Rolling her hips and rubbing her nipples against his chest, running her fingers through his hair and moaning every few moves, she drove him closer and closer to the edge.

  Her inner walls convulsed and squeezed him. His body took over and they both soared to the summit. He’d barely stopped spilling into her when she rolled her hips again.

  He was going to lose his mind, but he didn’t stop her. He ran his hands along her, touching her everywhere he could. He played with her nipples, dipped a finger into the dimple i
n her right hip and tried to memorize the feel of her body against his.

  He’d had sex partners of the good and not-so-good variety. Gisella blew them out of the ocean. She busted the barriers of everything he knew and took him to new heights of pleasure.

  She laughed when she orgasmed a second time. And damn if it wasn’t infectious because he found himself laughing too.

  She was still chuckling when he pulled her to the pillows and settled beside her. “Do you think this is what your dad meant when he ordered you to see me safely home?”

  “I think my father’s tried not to think about my sex life since he sat me down for the talk.”

  “No one had the talk with me. I had to learn from TV and books.”

  Kyle moved her hair off her throat and brushed his thumb along her ear. “I approve of your education. There wasn’t much evidence you were a virgin.”

  “Only my intact cherry.”

  He laughed. “There was that.”

  “Did you like that about me?”

  “Honey. To date, I like everything about you.” He caressed her shoulder and arm and back and the curve of her breast. Any bit of skin he could reach without stretching he touched. He never wanted to stop touching. “I could spend a very long time getting to know you.”

  “You might find something to not like about me.”

  “I’m positive you’d find something to not like about me.” He didn’t care though. “I think it’s worth the risk. I think you’re worth any risk.”

  She stopped laughing. She didn’t even chuckle as her body grew still against him. Her stillness and her silence worried him. When she spoke, her words weren’t necessarily comforting. “I live in the fear of losing anyone I love. I can barely manage to let myself love my friends. I’m terrified to think about what I might grow to feel for you.”

  She’d told him some of her story. He’d looked the rest up in case files. She’d experienced, witnessed, a horrible loss. It made sense she’d have emotional intimacy issues. He knew what he wanted in life, but opening himself to the possibility of rejection wasn’t easy.

  “I understand.” Still, no risk, no reward. He kissed her forehead and breathed deep. “I’m not asking for forever. I’m not asking you to fall in love with me.” Though he doubted he’d complain if she did.

  “It feels like you are.”

  There were moments when certainty ruled and Kyle knew beyond all matter of doubts he’d spend his life with Gisella. There were other moments when disbelief and doubt led the charge.

  Aside from the wedding, he’d only known her a few days. It was too soon to name what he felt for her, but he couldn’t argue with the way she made him feel.

  He wanted more time, so he had no issue with her need for time. “I’m only asking you for time. Time to get to know each other. Time to find out if this thing between us is real or a matter of adrenaline and appreciation. Who knows. We could go on a date and discover we have nothing in common and hate each other.”

  Doubtful, but possible. He’d say anything to talk her into letting him hang around for a while.

  “Let’s see what we see?” she asked.

  “Is that such a bad idea?”

  She stared at him for several seconds before slowly moving her head. First left. Then right. And then left one last time. Three basic movements offered him more than he could have hoped. “It holds a basic appeal, but I’m going to expect some dates.”

  He smiled. “We’ll order pizza and eat it in bed.”

  “That’s not a date. And there will never be food in my bed.”

  “See, already something we don’t have in common. I like to eat ice cream in bed just before going to sleep.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “And cake. I like a good piece of cake.”

  “Cake belongs on a plate.”

  He rolled her to her back and towered over her. “Only if you’re the plate.”

  In that moment, he resolved to talk her into being the plate for his cake. In bed.

  About the Author

  Heart-stopping chaos, triple-tongue fluting, vocal practices of Diva proportions, boy crushes and girl drama are all in a day’s work for Nikki Duncan. This athletic equestrian turned reluctant homemaker turned daring author is drawn to the siren song of a fresh storyline.

  Nikki plots character mayhem over breakfast, scandalous exposés at lunch and the sensual turn of phrase after dinner. Nevertheless, it is the pleasurable excitement and anticipation of unraveling a character’s motivation that drives her to write long past the witching hour.

  The only anxiety and apprehension haunting this author comes from pondering the outcome of her latest twist.

  Nikki loves to hear from her readers. She can be found at all the predictable online places.

  Twitter @NDuncanWriter and @TulleTulips

  Facebook /NDuncanWriter

  Pinterest /TulleTulips

  Website www.nikkiduncan.com and www.tulleandtulipsweddings.com

  Look for these titles by Nikki Duncan

  Now Available:

  Sensory Ops

  Sounds to Die By

  Scent of Persuasion

  Illicit Intuitions

  A Killing Touch

  Taste Me Deadly

  Cyber Illusions

  Tulle and Tulips

  Tangled in Tulle

  Twisted in Tulips

  Handcuffed in Housewares

  Debauched in Diamonds

  Seduced in Sand

  Engaged in Embellishments

  Whispering Cove

  Wicked

  Burned

  Serenades

  Fiery

  Scarred Hearts

  Controlled Burn

  Her Miracle Man

  Coming Soon:

  Scarred Hearts

  Controlled Passion

  Don’t miss these other titles by Nikki Duncan!

  Hardened by scars. Softened by heart. Melded by fire.

  Scarred Hearts, Book 1

  Petite in stature but not in attitude, Delancey Winston put her fellow firefighters’ doubts to rest when she carried a half-burned man out of an arson fire. But she can’t shake the need to learn more about the haunting power of the man in her dreams—the one she pulled from a dead woman’s side to save.

  Even more disturbing is the power of newly awakened memories she’s tried to bury.

  Logan Mathis lost more than his accounting firm that day. He lost his beloved sister, his only remaining family. Now, his days filled with painful skin grafts and therapy, he works to avoid people. Until he runs into the woman who saved his life, who seems to see beyond his scars.

  Slowly, Delancey’s generosity of spirit begins healing Logan from the inside. But their connection resurrects memories Logan would rather forget. Memories that could make Logan a target of someone who’s still trying to burn away his tracks.

  Warning: The damsel saves the dude, and that’s not a spoiler. It’s a clue that things are about to get hot. Really hot.

  Winning her heart may require sneaking a dink past her defenses.

  Tulle and Tulips, Book 5

  If Queen of Venues Tabatha Sampson wasn’t so easy to like she’d be universally hated. At Tulle and Tulips, she wins over her clients with a deft likeability, and a gift for finding them the wedding venue of their dreams.

  Her polished veneer fools everyone into thinking she’s never known hardship, that everything she touches is blessed with perfection. In truth, her deepest secret is her life’s biggest failure—her husband.

  A reformed beach bum turned professional volleyball player, Danny Hampton knows a thing or two about how to work a crowd. On the circuit he wins the hearts of spectators and sponsors while keeping his own safely shielded. Since stepping onto th
e sand he’s done nothing but win. Behind his easy smile lies the heart of his biggest loss—his wife.

  Now he’s determined to show Tabatha he’s a changed man. But it’ll take more than heated kisses to keep her pen off the dotted line at the bottom of their divorce papers.

  Warning: This title contains a man determined to be the hero every woman could want, and one woman needs.

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

  Cincinnati OH 45249

  Frisked in Fondant

  Copyright © 2016 by Nikki Duncan

  ISBN: 978-1-61923-169-6

  Edited by Tera Cuskaden

  Cover by Kanaxa

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: January 2016

  www.samhainpublishing.com

 

 

 


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