“That teddy just brought home how unusual it all was and kept reminding me,” he told her, brushing his lips over hers and his finger against her clit without any silk between them.
Zoe realized she could get a before-work orgasm. She was apparently dressed correctly this time. That wasn’t exactly her “usual morning routine” but damn, it could be. It really freaking could be.
“You’re an idiot,” she told him. Then she wrapped an arm around his neck, arched closer, and kissed him.
Aiden must have decided not to be an idiot again, because he kissed her back. Deeply. Hotly. While sliding his finger into her in one smooth, firm, but gentle thrust.
Just one finger. One long, thick, knowing middle finger. But wow. She had a great dildo. She had her own fingers. This wasn’t exactly virgin territory—so to speak—but no guy had ever had his fingers there, and now she realized she was the idiot. She should have been asking guys to put their fingers there over and over.
Okay, no, that wasn’t true. She would never let another guy do this to her. That thought hit her even as a spiral of pleasure shot from Aiden’s finger to her toes, literally curling them.
She was probably uptight or a prude or weird or something. But it was true. She couldn’t imagine letting anyone else put his hand where Aiden’s was right now.
He slid his finger in and out, then brushed his thumb over her clit at the same time and Zoe felt even her scalp tingling.
She would never admit it, but she really hadn’t known that this could feel like this and be this good. It was just his finger. Just one finger. And she was going to insist—probably pathetically, with lots of compliments heaped on—that he do this to her all the time now. Maybe hourly.
Zoe pulled her mouth away and gasped. “Aiden. Oh my God.”
“Damn, you feel so fucking good,” he rasped against her neck. “You’re so damned tight.”
She gave a half laugh, half moan. “Is that good?”
Now it was his turn to give a choked laugh. “Fuck, you have no idea.”
No, she didn’t. That was kind of the point. Which reminded her, that if he wasn’t an idiot who got hung up on things like her wearing a teddy instead of a t-shirt, she could have felt this five months ago and been feeling it repeatedly since then.
But that was when the real realization hit. If she couldn’t imagine anyone but Aiden Anderson putting his hands in her pants, then it wouldn’t have been repeatedly even if he had done it five months ago. He’d left. He’d gone back to his life in Chicago. Just as he’d planned. That had been part of why he’d seemed so perfect. But truthfully? That would have been… horrible. She would have felt all this amazingness then realized it could probably only happen with him, and she would have been cut off. Or driving to Chicago every other day and begging him for orgasms. Which would have been humiliating.
Not to mention hard on her business.
And her car.
Dammit. Aiden had been right to say no.
Oh, she really hated that.
She started to squirm, intending to push him away, too confused and annoyed to really focus on here, on what was happening now.
But then it didn’t matter.
Aiden curled his finger in just a certain way and shifted his hand just so and pressed against her clit just right, and suddenly Zoe was pulling him closer and grinding against his hand and gasping his name along with, “Oh, yes, please,” and then her body pulled tight, like someone was stretching a rubber band inside her and then let go, like they’d shot it across the classroom—and she was flying.
Pleasure flooded through her scalp to her toes and back again. Heat and relief and want and an insane desire to thank him and beg him to start all over again washing over her, and all she could do was grip his arm and try to stay upright.
Aiden pulled his hand from her panties and wrapped a big arm around her waist, pulling her against him, his other hand going to the back of her head. He hugged her as she struggled to catch her breath, running his hand over her hair.
“You’re so amazing, Zoe. Damn, that was hot. Holy hell, girl, that’s so much better than coffee.”
He said it all against the top of her head, kissing her and stroking her, and making her feel amazing and hot and like maybe she’d just rocked his world. Which was crazy. But damned if her ego wasn’t ballooning up like he was pumping helium into her.
Along with his fingers.
Suddenly she giggled. It was adrenaline and a little feminine empowerment and endorphins like crazy, she knew. But she pressed her face against his chest and giggled.
She felt the rumble of a chuckle from him.
“Okay, well, laughter might not have been what I was going for.”
She tipped her head back, looking up at him. “I think you know this is the wrong place, and I’m the wrong girl to be expecting to hear ‘Oh, Aiden, you’re a god.’”
He grinned down at her, his gaze hot, but affectionate at the same time. “I’ve got time, and the patience and inclination, to work on that.”
Heat fizzed through her bloodstream, but she managed to not melt into him. Somehow.
“I need to get ready for work.”
“I need coffee.”
“Okay then.”
But before he let her go, he leaned in and gave her a hot but sweet kiss. Unlike the others. All their kisses, even the surprising one, had been hot. This one was… different. There was a lot of lip, a little tongue, breaths mingling, tasting, arching closer. But it felt… slower. And intentional. And like he wanted to keep doing that for a very, very long time.
Maybe forever.
He lifted his head, looked into her eyes for a long moment, then stepped back.
She brushed her hair back, took a deep breath, and said, “Right.”
Right? Right about what? What did that mean?
“I know,” he said.
Then he gave her a cocky grin.
Dammit. He thought she meant he was right. About all of it. Everything. That saying no at Christmas had been the right move. That things between them should get serious now. That she wasn’t going to be able to resist him.
And… she thought that was maybe what she meant too.
He jacked off in the shower to images and thoughts of Zoe.
Not that it was the first time. He’d been very good about pushing thoughts of her out of his head if they tried to wander there before last Christmas. And they had, on occasion. But after Christmas? It had been impossible.
Now, though, there was no holding back or even a flicker of guilt about it.
He’d just made her come, in the kitchen where he’d grown up, before he’d even had coffee.
And it had been the hottest thing he’d ever experienced.
He hadn’t intended to touch her like that this morning. He hadn’t really intended to touch her at all. He’d wanted to, but he knew she had some plan to tease and tempt him for a while first, and he was very willing to play along.
That had all gone up in smoke in about ten minutes.
She’d looked so fucking hot… and adorable. That was the problem. It was that combination. Because Zoe McCaffery was a lot of things—sassy, smart, fierce, stubborn, funny, loving. But she wasn’t very often adorable. That came with a hint of vulnerability and sweetness which was at odds with the woman he knew.
It was the idea that there were sides and layers he didn’t totally know, which made his heart really race. He wanted everything he already knew about her. He wanted her exactly as she was. But the idea that she would show him some new things, let him get closer, be even more real with him in a way she hadn’t been with her brother’s best friend before, made everything in him shout yes!
That was what the virginity thing had been about. It had hit him as he’d slid his hand into her cherry-red panties and felt her sweet, hot wetness for the first time. It had nearly brought him to his knees. That was a place they’d never gone before, a place they’d never really imagined in all likelihood.
Had they recognized the other was attractive? Sure. That was just one of those things that registered and then sort of went out of mind. Zoe being beautiful was like saying Zoe was wearing a green dress or that she made the best lemon bars in the state.
But being intimate with her like that was something new. Something that had thrown him for a huge loop five months ago.
Something that he was all fucking in on now.
And now that he’d touched her, felt her sweet pussy clench around his finger, heard his name from her mouth as she came, seen the dazed look of pleasure, and yes, surprise, dammit, in those big blue eyes when she’d looked up at him after… yeah, he was done. Addicted. Whipped. A goner. Going to fight to have that for the rest of his life. She was his.
Aiden stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, drying off quickly. He wasn’t walking around with a raging hard-on now, but he was far from satisfied. He wanted her. And it was more than physical now. There was this nagging need that went beyond needing to sink deep and thrust hard and feel all that amazing tight, wet heat around his cock. Though he definitely wanted all that. It was this need to be sure she was on this same page with him. That Zoe knew what had happened in the kitchen this morning was the start. To… everything.
That no one else would ever touch her like that. That he would never touch anyone else like that again. That he might not finger-bang her every morning before work, but they would be in their kitchen together every morning before work from now on. Their kitchen. Yeah, that was now their kitchen. And that they would be going down to that kitchen from their bedroom upstairs.
That was a lot to lay on the woman today. He knew that.
But the quick finger fuck had to help his case.
He grinned as he brushed his teeth, shaved, and finished getting ready for the day before heading down the hall for his clothes. He didn’t hear anything in the house, and he looked out his bedroom window to find Zoe’s car was already gone from the driveway.
That was fine. They needed to drive to the bakery separately today anyway. He needed to try to find a way to get over to the Hot Cakes factory later without being noticed if possible.
But he was definitely going to the bakery. He was going to use Zoe’s Wi-Fi and hang out while she worked today. Because she was the reason he was in Appleby right now, and the more he was with her, the faster he could convince her this was all meant to be.
And then he could tell her about Hot Cakes and wouldn’t have to find ways to sneak around over there.
He had some business to do before he could stake out a spot at the bakery though.
He’d sent his partners a message before he’d gotten in the shower, so they should all be logging into their video conferencing service by now.
The Fluke Inc. guys weren’t early-bird-gets-the-worm types. They were much more night-owls-get-the-juicy-mice types. Plus owls were fucking majestic as hell. But if one of them needed the others, they’d be there.
Aiden settled into a chair at Zoe’s kitchen table and connected to the call.
“Where the hell are you?” Camden McCaffery asked, squinting at his computer screen from where he was lounging on his couch in Chicago.
Aiden was five feet from where he’d made Cam’s little sister come before he’d had his first cup of coffee.
He was not going to tell Cam that.
He was already pushing his luck asking them to all be on a video call this early. His four partners were not morning people. This would have been better around the table in their conference room in Chicago rather than with him in Zoe’s kitchen and them all in their apartments almost two hundred miles away, but he wasn’t leaving Iowa any time soon, and he needed to fill them all in ASAP.
“Appleby.”
“What the hell? Is everything okay?” his best friend since childhood asked. Cam was frowning. Aiden understood. The only people in Appleby that Aiden came home to see were Camden’s family members.
“Everything is great,” Aiden assured him. “I’m just… moving back.”
Cam blinked at him. “When?”
“Yesterday.”
“To Iowa?” Oliver Caprinelli asked. Then he yawned. “Why?”
To marry Cam’s sister, actually, but he was going to hold off on that information for a bit as well.
Oliver was propped up in his bed, his laptop propped on his thighs. He looked truly confused about why anyone would ever utter words that were even close to, “I’m moving to Iowa.”
Grant Lorre, Fluke Inc.’s CFO, was at the breakfast bar in his ultra-modern kitchen. He was dressed to head to the gym after the call. He simply lifted his coffee cup, listening.
“Well… Hot Cakes.” Aiden hit a button, sending the article about the sale of the factory to his partners’ phones.
He gave them a second to scan the article. Ollie was actually the one who was going to be most in favor of this. Ollie was always in favor of the crazy ideas.
Ollie looked up. “Okay, and…?”
“It’s for sale. You want in?”
“It’s in Iowa?”
“It is.”
“Well… I’m a little tied up right now… and possibly allergic to pigs…” Ollie trailed off without finishing the thought.
Aiden looked at Cam. He would know why Hot Cakes being for sale was important. And complicated.
Grant lifted a brow. “You eat a lot of bacon for a guy who’s allergic to pigs,” he said to Ollie.
“Wide-open spaces, then,” Ollie said. “They have a lot of those there, right?”
“A lot of those,” Aiden agreed dryly.
“Why are you into this?” Grant asked simply, his attention on Aiden.
Cutting through the B.S. was one of Grant’s roles in the group.
Okay, well, the short answer to that was Zoe McCaffery. But that wasn’t a simple answer. Grant and Ollie didn’t know anything about Zoe other than her name and that she was Cam’s younger sister.
“The Hot Cakes factory went up for sale this week. I think this would be a great investment for Fluke.” Aiden put on his CEO voice. He wasn’t CEO of Fluke because he was smarter or more driven than any of these men. But Aiden was a natural leader and manager. He’d brought these men together and knew how to handle them. He knew them each very well and knew and appreciated each of their strengths. And weaknesses.
“Why?” Ollie asked.
“Hot Cakes makes Butter Sticks, Peanut Butter Pinwheels and…” Aiden paused for emphasis. “Fudgie Fritters.”
Ollie sat up straighter. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Seriously.”
“Hey, sorry I’m late.” Dax Marshall, their fifth partner, logged on. He was in a shirt and tie and had a to-go coffee cup in hand. Of course, it was the same shirt and tie he’d been in yesterday before Aiden had left for Iowa.
“She didn’t even make you coffee before kicking your ass out?” Cam asked Dax, watching him toss back two ibuprofen tablets and wash them down with coffee.
“Never get coffee from ’em,” Dax said, after he’d swallowed.
“Because?” Cam asked.
“Coffee is to sober up, to focus, to get work done. I take my work with coffee. I like my girls with tequila.”
“Coffee is too serious for you and your girls?” Grant asked with an eye roll.
Dax grinned. “Yep. I save all my good, really strong coffee time for you.” He batted his eyes at Grant.
Grant flipped him off. “I’m so blessed.”
The term “herding cats” could have easily applied to day-to-day operations of Fluke. And Aiden was the master herder of these tomcats.
He oversaw the nerdy dreamer, Ollie, the everything’s-a-party playboy, Dax, the arrogant, spoiling-for-a-fight lawyer, Camden, and the serious, not-everything-is-a-fucking-game-you-guys CFO, Grant. Which was one of their favorite things for Grant to yell because Fluke was, first and foremost, a game company. They’d created Warriors of Easton, the fastest-growing online video game in the world. Much to all
of their surprise on a daily basis.
Dax pulled something out of a plastic grocery bag and started unwrapping it, making a lot of noise. It was a Cinnamon Curl. A mini coffee cake. Made by Hot Cakes.
Aiden chuckled as Dax bit into it. He looked up. “What?”
“You’ve got impeccable timing,” Aiden told him.
“Check your phone,” Ollie said to Dax.
Dax picked up his phone, moving his thumb over the screen while still eating with the other hand.
“Okay. Why do I care about Lancaster Foods and their factory being for sale?” Dax asked.
“They make Hot Cakes,” Ollie said.
“No way,” Dax replied.
“So we’re buying it,” Ollie told him.
Yep, that was exactly the type of spontaneous, sudden-pivot, I’ll-brave-pigs-to-save-my-fritters kind of reaction that was classic Ollie.
“Cool.” Dax bit into the Cinnamon Curl.
And that was probably as much a reaction as they would get from him. Dax was a roll-with-it, up-for-anything guy.
“We’re buying a failing company?” Grant asked. “A company that does something we know nothing about?”
“I’ll have you know, I’ve eaten my weight in Hot Cakes in my lifetime,” Ollie said.
“Same,” Dax agreed around a mouthful of cinnamon crumbles.
“That doesn’t actually make you qualified to run the company that makes them,” Grant said, his tone long suffering.
“You sure?” Dax asked with a grin. “I mean, we made a pretty great video game company, and all we knew how to do was play video games.”
“And draw cartoons on the computer,” Ollie added. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
Dax nodded. “Thank you. You’re right. I can draw cartoons on the computer really, really good.” He even made the cringeable grammar error just for Grant.
Grant sighed. But he didn’t argue. Because Dax was right. The game Ollie had come up with and Dax had designed—and that Cam, Aiden, and Grant had marketed and sold—had accidentally become an overnight sensation. It had been a total fluke the five of them had become rich and successful. Hence, the company name, Fluke Inc.
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