Treat with Caution (Treats to Tempt You Book 1)

by Serenity Woods

  He tore his lips away from hers. “Let me have a shower.” His voice was hoarse with passion. “I’ll be a minute, tops.”

  She shook her head and moved back. After removing her glasses, she slid out the clip holding up her hair, then grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt and ripped it off. He did the same, heart racing, and followed with his shorts, which dropped on top of her jeans. In seconds, their underwear joined the pile. He grabbed his wallet from the table and yanked out the lone condom, ripped open the packet, and rolled it on.

  Tasha looked over her shoulder as if wondering where she could lie down, but Kole already knew where he wanted her. He put his hands under her butt and lifted her onto the worktop, pushed open her knees, and guided himself into her.

  In one smooth thrust, he was up to the hilt. No tightness or friction this time.

  Tasha fell back onto her elbows and tipped her face up to look at the ceiling, her dark hair spilling across the counter like melted chocolate. “Oh, thank God, at last.”

  Her heartfelt words heated him up almost as much as her body. She’d been hot for him, too. How fucking wonderful.

  He ran his hands over her naked body, cupped her breasts, then leaned forward to take one of her soft nipples in his mouth. It felt like sucking on a truffle, so soft and velvety, hardening like chocolate placed in the fridge to a peak in his mouth. He did the same to the other one, enjoying her answering moan of pleasure, then pushed himself upright, unable to hold back the thrust of his hips any longer.

  It took him less than thirty seconds to come, which would have been embarrassing except that when he circled his thumb on the swollen bud between her legs, she beat him to the finish line by a whisker. Her muscles gripped him, helping him along, and he shuddered into her, their skin sticking together, hot and slick.

  His heart rate gradually slowed, and he opened his eyes.

  “Fuck,” she said, looking dazed.

  He laughed. “Yeah.” He slid out of her, grabbed a piece of kitchen roll and disposed of the condom, then pulled her to a sitting position and into his arms.

  She rested her head on his chest, and he kissed her hair. He really needed a shower. Her nose was almost under his armpit, and he was shocked she wasn’t recoiling in disgust.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. “I’m sure I smell revolting.”

  “Mmm, nothing wrong with fresh sweat.” She turned her head and pressed her nose against his chest, inhaling, then raised a hand to his chin and pushed up gently to tip his head back. She ran her tongue over his Adam’s apple, then down to the hollow underneath, murmuring with approval as she tasted him.

  Kole closed his eyes, holding his breath as she pressed her lips along his collarbone, then back to the base of his throat. At last, a girl who felt the same way about sex he did, that there was nothing wrong with it being hot and sweaty and hard.

  He lowered his head as she lifted hers, and she looked up, her eyebrows rising as she looked at his face. She chuckled. “What?”

  “Any more of that and I’ll be starting all over again.”

  “Can’t say I’d be disappointed.”

  He laughed and disengaged himself, and picked up his sweaty clothing. “I really need a shower.”

  She retrieved her own clothes. “Can I watch?”

  He grinned. “If you like.”

  So she followed him into the bathroom and dressed while he showered. She chatted away, but he could feel her gaze on him as he soaped his body and tipped back his head to rinse the shampoo from his hair.

  When he stepped out, dripping, onto the mat, she was ready with a towel and started to dry his chest. “I need a cold shower myself now,” she said wryly.

  He took the towel from her and finished the job, then walked through to the bedroom to pull on a pair of shorts. “You’re easily pleased.”

  “You’re only noticing now?”

  Kole laughed and held out his hand. “Want a drink?”

  “Sure.” She took his hand, and he led her out to the kitchen.

  He finished off the bottle of water, then retrieved two wine glasses from the cupboard. “White?” he asked. Girls usually preferred white.

  She found her glasses and slid them on. “Red if you have it.”

  He reached for the bottle. “You’re the ideal girl. You know that?”

  “I’ve been trying to tell everyone that for years.”

  He chuckled and poured them both a glass, and they carried them out onto the deck.

  He sat on one of the chairs and put his feet up on the balustrade, his body feeling loose and sated. “I’m glad you came over.”

  She took the chair beside him and did the same, stretching out her legs and crossing her ankles. “I’m glad. I nearly didn’t. I wasn’t sure if you’d want me around.”

  He frowned, puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  She shrugged and sipped her wine. “I don’t want to…intrude. I know we’re ‘dating’—” she put air quotes around the word “—but we’re not…you know…intimate.” She met his gaze, and her lips curved at raised eyebrow. “Well, okay, we’re intimate, but you know what I mean.” She seemed flustered.

  “I told you, for these eight days, you get a hundred percent of me,” he said. “Like it or not, I’m yours to do with as you will.”

  Her eyes glazed over. “Mmm…”

  His body stirred with desire. Already? “Okay, what’s going through your mind now?”

  “Melted chocolate. And possibly whipped cream.”

  “Oh.” His mind spun. “Who’s doing the licking?”

  “Licking? I was talking about dinner. What were you talking about?”

  They both laughed. Easy boy, he thought, willing his erection to go away. Tasha might have appeared keen over the weekend, but most girls appreciated a break between sessions.

  “Speaking of dinner,” he said, “have you eaten?”

  “No. I was too nervous.” She bit her lip as if she hadn’t meant to admit that.

  He smiled. “Want to walk down to the fish and chip shop?”

  “You could cook me something.” Her eyes twinkled behind her glasses.

  “I don’t think you’d appreciate microwaved pasta,” he said wryly. He finished off his wine. “Come on. You’ve given me an appetite.” And not just for food. He didn’t add the words, but when they went into the kitchen and she bent to pull on her sandals, giving him a great view of her butt in the tight jeans, he had to scold his body to behave.

  They walked down the winding road to the fish and chip shop and bought a couple of scoops of chips and two pieces of hoki, and picked at them as they walked along the waterfront. It was nearly seven thirty, and the sun was sinking into the ocean, the harbor flooded with orange and gold.

  “I love it here,” Tasha said, pausing to look down at the boats.

  Kole ate a hot chip and blew on his fingers. “You never considered staying in Auckland after going to uni then?”

  “No. I hate Auckland. I’m not a city girl.” She ate a piece of white fish absently, and he watched her suck her fingers clean. Down boy. “Besides,” she said, clearly unaware of how sexy she looked as her tongue slid down her thumb, “Fox had already started up Aqua Blue, and he asked me to help out for a while. It was nice to have a job, especially considering so many of my peers were struggling to find work.”

  “You didn’t stay there though? At Aqua Blue, I mean. Why?”

  “Because Fox’s a bastard to work for,” she said wryly, continuing to walk, and he fell in beside her. “A complete slave driver. I could cope with a normal boss cracking the whip, but my own brother…it was never going to work. We clashed all the time.”

  “Is that when you came up with the idea for Treats?”

  “Well, Maisey and I have talked about having a confectionery shop for years, but yes, we started discussing it seriously when I left Aqua and Maisey came back up here. We’d met Elle and Caitlin at uni, you see, and when we told them about our idea, they were immediately enthusia
stic. It should work well because we all bring something different to the table.”

  “What do Elle and Caitlin bring?”

  “Elle’s specialty is ice-cream. She’s obsessed with it, and she’s always coming up with new flavors. Caitlin has a real knack for coffee—she’s the best barista out of the four of us, knows all the different types, and she can tell you where a coffee bean comes from just by smelling it—don’t ask me how. It’s perfect, really, because Maisey and I have always concentrated on chocolate, and the three go together so well.”

  “What does Maisey herself bring to the party? Sparkly nail varnish?”

  She laughed. “Maisey has fantastic ideas. Sometimes they’re a bit too way out there and we have to rein her in, but usually she comes up with stuff I couldn’t imagine if I had a year to think about it. She just needs someone to put it into practice, and that’s where I come in.”

  He stopped, screwed up the newspaper, and threw it into a nearby bin. Then he faced her, hands in his pockets. “Miss Practical, eh?”

  “Kinda.” She smiled and dumped the rest of her paper in the bin. Then she glanced to her left and fell quiet.

  Kole followed her gaze, his heart jolting as he saw where they were standing—right outside the shop. He hadn’t even realized where their feet had taken them. You stupid fucking arse.

  He looked back at Tasha, and her cool eyes surveyed him. Dammit. Had he brought the lovely evening to an end?

  Chapter Eighteen

  They both turned and stared at the shop.

  I shouldn’t have eaten all the fish, Tasha thought. Her stomach clenched uneasily, and she felt slightly sick.

  She’d totally forgotten about the shop as they wandered along the waterfront. How weird was that? She’d been too busy enjoying Kole’s company, still caught up in the afterglow of their frantic sex session. Her body tingled at the memory of his hot skin sticking to hers, but she pushed it away.

  The shop looked neat and clean, like a blank slate, full of promise, ready to be made into something amazing. It wouldn’t be long before the owner returned, and then this would all be over.

  The late sun bounced off a metal sign, temporarily blinding her, and her eyes watered. She shaded them with a hand. She had to say something—neither of them had spoken for an ice age.

  She cleared her throat. “So what are your plans for the place?”

  He glanced down at her. She wore flat sandals, and he towered over her, all height and breadth, smelling of fresh body wash, his hair still curling damply around the base of his neck. His eyes were unfathomable, and his smile had vanished.

  Was it possible he’d forgotten too? That standing here had given him a mental slap as well? The bet stood between them, as tall and forbidding as if built out of bricks.

  “Come on,” she said softly. There was no point in ignoring it. They may be having fun, but there was a purpose to this fling and they shouldn’t forget it. “Which bit had you planned to be your studio before I whisked it out of reach?”

  He smiled at that. They walked forward to stand by the window, looking in at the empty, tiled floor, the neat counter to one side.

  “It’s smallish,” he said, “but I thought I’d have the studio in the room out the back. I might even discuss with the owner joining that room with the kitchen, as I wouldn’t be using that. Most of the people who’d come in would be families anyway; anything like team photos are taken at the school or sports club, and obviously weddings are done on the spot. Out here,” he indicated the main area of the shop, “I’d like displays of some of my photos, and a selection of albums and frames as a suggestion of what I can produce. And on that side, I’d put up a thin wall and have a meeting room, where I could sit with clients and discuss their needs.”

  “Sounds nice,” she said airily. “Shame you won’t get to put the plan into action.”

  His lips curved. “What about you?”

  She brought to mind her vision for the shop and illustrated her words with a hand. “We’d have a long counter the length of that wall, with cold cabinets displaying the chocolates and ice cream. The coffee machine would go there. We’d extend the kitchen to take up a good part of the main room, and erect a glass partition so customers could see the food being made. And obviously tables and chairs at the front here—there wouldn’t be room for many, but on nice days we could spill onto the pavement, and it’ll mostly be takeaways anyway.”

  It would be perfect. She could see it so clearly she almost felt if she squeezed her eyes tight shut and wished hard enough, she’d open them again and it would all be there ready and waiting for her. Her heart raced.

  And then Kole turned away beside her, and she deflated like a popped balloon.

  They walked slowly back up to his house. He put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her to his side as they walked, and they talked about this and that. But the sun had nearly set across the harbor, and everything had dulled to gray.

  When they reached his house, she stopped and shoved her hands in her pockets. This wasn’t going to work—she needed time to think about what she was doing here. “I think I’ll head home,” she said. “Have an early night.”

  Kole studied his shoes for a moment. He seemed to be struggling to phrase his words. Or was she imagining it? Maybe he was just disappointed he wasn’t going to get any more sex that night.

  I want that shop, he’d said right at the beginning, and I’m going to get it. Sure, he’d obviously enjoyed having sex with her, but he was a guy. Guys liked sex. There wasn’t usually much more to it than that. They’d both been determined to turn on the charm, to seduce each other, and even though she was convinced what had sparked between them had surprised them both, she didn’t think for a second he had anything other than winning this bet in his mind.

  “Tomorrow?” she said.

  He looked back up at her then. His eyes were cool, and it felt like he’d erected a barrier, like a cashier in a bank with a glass partition between her and the customer. “Sure.”

  Tasha hesitated. A small piece of her had hoped he’d ask her to stay, tell her to forget about the shop, that he wanted her regardless of the bet. But that wasn’t going to happen. It annoyed and upset her in equal measure. Clearly, he’d enjoyed her company. Why couldn’t he admit it?

  But she refused to let him know it had affected her. She pinned a bright smile on her face. “Okay, see you later, then.” Not wanting to leave on a bad note, she moved closer and reached up to press a quick kiss on his cheek. Please don’t pull away.

  But as her lips touched his bristles, he turned his head so his mouth met hers. And then his arms came around her, and he tightened them, pinning her to him as he kissed her back hungrily.

  She closed her eyes, disgusted with herself for taking whatever he was willing to give, but unable to pull back. Was the kiss his way of illustrating he didn’t want her to go, without actually saying the words?

  When he finally lifted his head, she laid a hand on his chest for a moment, her forehead against his chin and her eyes closed, feeling the thud of his heart beneath her palm. His lips touched her hair, gentle, affectionate.

  Then she moved back. She flashed him a smile, turned, and walked to her car.

  He waved her goodbye, but when she drove away and looked in her rear view mirror, he’d gone.

  By the time she arrived home, she was fighting back tears of irritation and anger at the whole idiotic situation, at her stupid female hormones, at Kole’s stubborn refusal to admit he felt anything for her, at the world in general.

  She let herself in and slammed the door behind her, only then realizing Maisey was home, sitting on the sofa and looking startled at the loud crash.

  “Kia ora,” Maisey said, a typical New Zealand greeting.

  Tasha scowled. Then she spotted Maisey’s fluffy onesie and her pale face, free of makeup. Maisey never went out without makeup. “What are you doing here? What happened to the concert?”

  “The bloody thing was calle
d off! Singer came down with the flu.” Maisey rolled her eyes and sipped from the glass of wine in her hand. “Good job Caitlin checked their website before we left.” She narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought I was going to have a nice quiet evening, not have you banging doors all over the place. Where’s Kole?”

  “Home.” Tasha let out a long sigh. She went into the kitchen and retrieved herself a glass, then came back to sit beside Maisey and pour herself some wine.

  “Problem?” Maisey asked.

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. Not really.”

  “Well, I’m glad we cleared that up.”

  Tasha stared moodily into her glass. “He’s being a dick.”

  “You’re only just figuring that out? I had him sussed years ago.”

  Tasha gave a small laugh. “Sorry about the concert.”

  “Meh. I’d only have been shattered tomorrow. You know I’m normally in bed by nine.” Maisey surveyed her critically. “So come on, tell me what happened.”

  “I can hardly talk to you about it,” Tasha complained. “First, you’re his sister, and second, you’re one of the judges in the stupid bet. You’ll use it as ammunition against me.”

  “Give me some credit, Tash. The whole thing is a farce. I very much doubt Kole had any intention of giving up the shop when he agreed to the bet. No matter what happens between you two, he’d only deny it, and I think you know that. It was an excuse for you to finally get your hands on him.”

  “It wasn’t!” Tasha glared at her.

  Maisey glared back.

  “It really wasn’t,” Tasha said again, more softly. “I’ve known him a long time, and I’d never considered us getting together until now. I honestly suggested the bet because he annoyed me with his arrogant assumption he could get any girl to fall for him. I thought maybe he’d underestimated the power of friendship, and if we got to know each other…you know…more intimately, he might admit to more than a physical attraction for someone.”

  “That’s very self-sacrificing of you,” Maisey said. “So it had nothing to do with you thinking he’s hot, then?”

  Tasha opened her mouth to deny it, but couldn’t. Her lips curved, and Maisey grinned in response.