Cupcakes and Christmas: A Bake Off inspired MM Christmas Romance

by R. J. Scott

  “You are beautiful,” I said gently, and he placed his hands on my hips.

  “Thank you,” he said and then bit his lip and shook his head sadly. “Shame I have to put up with your ugly.”

  He kissed me as I spluttered, but I got away, splashed him, twisted around him, and by the time we were done fighting we were kissing, and I was melting into his hold. As we left the pool, hand in hand, he tugged me to a stop.

  “You’re so beautiful that it makes my head spin.”

  And I was done.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nobody likes a soggy bottom

  Justin

  We made it back to my suite just in time because sucking each other off in the elevator was way too dangerous. We were on each other as soon as the door shut, him falling to his knees but me deciding I wanted to taste him as he tasted me. The awkward sixty-nine was messy, uncoordinated but so freaking sexy that I barely lasted long enough to get him off properly. Laughing and smiling like idiots, we ended up in the shower, passed the time in there kissing deeply and whispering sexy nothings then sat on the bed wrapped in towels. He pulled his T-shirt back on, and even though I protested, he yanked it down and held it in place. Why he wanted to hide himself I don’t know but given my lack of experience in this whole liaison situation, maybe that was etiquette I’d missed.

  I couldn’t move, and when he fell back to lay next to me, I grasped his hand.

  “I need to go back to my room,” he said quietly, although he yawned as he spoke and then closed his eyes.

  “I want you to stay,” I said after a moment, but he was asleep, so he’d be staying for a while, and I called it a win.

  I woke up from a dream where Cupcake Land was an actual thing, and I was Lord Lemon of Chiffon, and it was my wedding day. The man I was marrying was less certain in my fevered vision, given he was made of choux pastry and was a little more than a pale pink blur of icing, but when I opened my eyes, I was smiling so hard my mouth hurt.

  For a few moments, I desperately tried to hold on to that beautiful feeling of cotton candy peace, but it soon faded, and I rolled over, coming face to face with a sleeping Brody. We’d fooled around, mutual blowjobs, a bit of talking, but mostly the two of us were exhausted.

  The last thing he said was that he needed to move and go back to his room, but clearly we’d both fallen asleep before leaving the room had happened. He was sprawled on top of the covers, naked beside the T-shirt that had worked its way up his body. Fearing he’d wake and find me staring at him, I tried not to make it obvious I was looking at all. Half-closing my eyes I spent the longest time looking at his face, go figure. All that sexy gorgeousness and naked sex, and I was looking at his face. I rolled off the bed as carefully as I could, used the bathroom, quickly brushed my teeth—just in case—then padded back to the bed, but he’d slept through the whole thing.

  He was so peaceful in sleep, but it wasn’t only in sleep that he was like this. All I could think was how centered he was and how could I find a piece of that? He moved his head, and I held my breath, but his breathing was even, so I got more of a chance to just look at him. He had strong arms but then as a baker, the arms got a daily workout. I knew that for a fact. His belly was soft, slightly rounded, enough so that it would be so soft to lay on. I shuffled a little so I was in the right space and gently pressed a kiss to his belly button then to the hip bone closest to me before laying my head on his belly and settling in for more sleep. I think I woke him, but he didn’t move. He simply carded a hand through my hair as if it was perfectly natural for me to use him as a pillow. I drifted back to sleep, woken when the soft pillow beneath my head moved, and I found myself flat on the mattress. He’d tried to sneak out from me so carefully, but I snagged his hand as he passed by and stopped him.

  “Are you going?”

  He immediately yanked at his T-shirt, pulling it down so it awkwardly hid his groin, and then backed into the bathroom. I heard the flush and the water running and then there was silence.

  “Are you okay?” I faux-whispered through the door, aware it was still early, and I didn’t want to wake up the occupants of the three other suites on this floor.

  “Uh huh,” he said, just as quietly so I could barely hear anything at all.

  “Are you coming out?” I sat back on the bed, anticipation making me half hard. Last night, we’d tested boundaries, kisses that led to more but I wanted it all with him. I’d even picked up condoms on a quick trip to the hotel shop, a small place that stocked essentials such as toothpaste, condoms, and snacks. I stocked up on all three and bought a toothbrush as well. I should have told him that.

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, a little louder this time.

  “I bought you a toothbrush. It’s the purple one on the side, and your own toothpaste, although you can use mine.”

  “You bought me a toothbrush?”

  “Yeah, I did.” I so very nearly explained that this is what lovers might do for each other, and I even thought about mentioning the condoms and lube I’d also bought. But it wasn’t as if I was the most experienced person on earth where relationships were concerned, so who the hell knows what lovers do at any time in the ritual.

  I heard the water running again and the sound of him brushing his teeth. I tested my own breath, which was still minty. What else did I need to check if I was going to attempt to seduce him into us sharing more mind-blowing orgasms? We’d showered before falling asleep, it was all good. The door opened and Brody peered out, his bed head smoothed down and his stubbled face so damn sexy I nearly dragged him out of the bathroom.

  He was wearing his T-shirt and clutching a towel in front of him, almost as if he was hiding himself.

  “What’s wrong?” I was completely naked sitting on the bed, confident in myself and he just looked weird.

  “Nothing,” he answered too quickly and then let out a noisy sigh. “I fell asleep.”

  “We both did.”

  “I woke up and you were here.” He waved at me then himself.

  “Cuddling up to you,” I finished his sentence. “I’m sorry, was that not okay?”

  “It’s too fast.” He drew a hand through his hair and gripped it.

  “It’s no different than us falling asleep in our own rooms.”

  “It is different.” He sounded miserable, and I didn’t understand what was happening. Had I done something wrong? Heaven knows I didn’t have experience so this was probably on me. Something about the way he was standing, with that damn towel in front of him when all I wanted to do was have a sneak peek at what I’d spent a long time kissing last night. Me and Brody junior were intimately acquainted.

  “How? We just happened to be in the same bed is all, and I just happened to wake up and see you sexy and sprawling and your belly was right there, and I cuddled in.”

  “I was naked.”

  “So was I.”

  “But you… ” He pointed at me and then leaned on the door jamb as if his legs were jelly, and he couldn’t stand up. “You’re perfect. No one wakes up next to you and lays their head on your belly and calls you fat, or lazy, or any shit like that.” He released the hold on his hair and scrubbed his face. “God, I don’t know what I’m saying, I’m half asleep.”

  I blinked at him. “Huh?”

  Maybe it was the wrong reaction because he shook his head mutely and then stalked past me, towel in place, and I felt like an idiot for missing something that was probably really important. Then it hit me, I never said any of that stuff, so who did? The ex-husband? Brody was gorgeous, and I loved his hard bits, and I freaking adored his soft bits, and I wanted more of it all.

  “I need to go to my room.” Brody began to dress, and I didn’t want him to, I wanted to tell him it was all okay, and that his ex was an asshole, and that he was perfect.

  I scrambled to stand and grabbed for his pants to stop him from walking away, which was just freaking stupid. He yanked back, and we entered into a tug of war that neither of us we
re willing to lose for some ridiculous reason that would have been funny if it wasn’t for the look of distress on his face. What am I doing? I let my hold drop immediately.

  “I’m sorry if I did something wrong.” I slumped back to the bed. “I’m not good at this relationship stuff.” He seemed to pause, torn between grabbing his pants and leaving or staying. Then he sat so heavily on the desk chair it slid back and hit the desk, and he seemed startled as if he couldn’t believe what he’d done.

  “Well that was shit,” he let out after a few moments of silence. “I just did exactly what Marc accused me of, freaked the hell out and panicked.”

  “You want to talk about it?” I asked even though I didn’t want him to say we were done with whatever it was we were doing.

  “Marc wasn’t good for me.” He glanced up at me. “Well you know we’re not together, so that speaks volumes.” He stopped.

  “I know, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed you.”

  He smiled at me, but there was sadness in his smile. “He had this way of making me feel as if I was less than him, and it wasn’t a new thing, and it was probably mostly my fault.” He stopped again and scrubbed his face. From next to my foot where his pants were lying, I heard his cell vibrate. “I need to take this.”

  “Okay.” That was weird, he hadn’t even seen who was calling, but it was more important to answer the call than talking to me? It had felt so right that he was telling me things, but maybe I wasn’t the person he wanted to talk to.

  “I’m okay,” he said as soon as he answered the phone, his expression going from guarded to resigned. “No, I’m with Justin… yes we did… God I’m not telling you that, asshole. No, he’s not… what?” With a sigh, he handed me the phone, and I took it on reflex and held it to my ear.

  “Hello?” I said not sure who I was even going to be talking to. Was there an emergency? Was I wrong to feel pissed he’d broken our heart to heart just to talk to this person?

  “Hey, I’m Adam, Brody’s twin brother.”

  “Oh, nice to meet you.”

  “His ex was an asshole. His confidence is shot. I can feel him panicking, but also that he likes you. You look out for him, but you break his heart, and I will break your dick.”

  “Okay—”

  “Hand me back.”

  I did as I was told because Brody was hovering.

  “What did you say to him?” he asked his brother, but there was mumbling and then Brody sighed. “You’re wondering why I’m not zen? You just… whatever… I wish. Okay. I’ll tell him. Love you.”

  He sat down and laid the phone on the table and then cracked his neck. “I signed the divorce papers. It’s done, but somehow I have all these insecurities about my time with him, about why we even got married, from him cheating on me or laughing at me. All of it has messed with my head.” He lifted his T-shirt to expose his belly, that softly rounded part of him that had been my pillow this morning. “I’m no Adonis, and Marc loved to tell me that. I know it’s stupid but you’re probably at the gym all the time, and me? I’m working so many hours, and I end up with cake for every meal of the day. Stupid, right?”

  That was what was bothering him? I guess I should have realized by the way he tugged at his shirt.

  I went to kneel in front of him, shuffling between his legs until he gave in and widened them. Once I was close, I placed my hands on his hips and kissed his belly.

  “It’s so soft and so you. It means that even though you’re this genius baker who is sexy and gorgeous, there is a secret part of you that only I get to use as a pillow. I love your hard bits and your soft bits, and I want to get to know everything even better. Your ex was an ass, and I will never do that to you, and fuck, if I’m being honest, I only go to the gym because I’m so fucking lonely sometimes.”

  That all sounded like nonsense as it spilled out, but I wasn’t teasing him, or laughing, I was being absolutely genuine, and it was absolutely true that time at the gym was nothing but a way to get more likes and comments, and mostly because staying in my huge place made me feel so damn lonely.

  I hugged him closer then I buried my face against his warm skin and pressed kisses wherever I could. I was desperate for him to understand what was happening and waiting for him to shove me away.

  But when he tangled his fingers in my hair and let out a sigh of contentment, another part of my heart filled with joy. I’m so sappy.

  I’d forgotten how much I liked baking. I’d added more posts introducing people to the intricacies of baking and sue me if the wording I used was aimed at a younger age than my demographic. Erin was pissed, and I know that because she sent me a strongly worded email complete with something called a heat map of social interaction. Apparently, that map exposed me as breaking the barriers and that was not what I should be doing.

  But I loved it. And of course I’d had some shit responses along with the positive. The creaming tutorial I’d put up on my channel last night had lewd remarks about me getting my shirt off, but I deleted the ones I saw and went through and clicked the heart next to each positive comment.

  Maybe I could do something for kids, like a cookbook or a segment on social media. Not for money, not to sell kids versions of my adult T-shirts or products that would harm them with enough sugar content to rot their teeth or alcohol. No, this would be like a how to bake thing, and I could be funny and make it cute and make something different to the Justin I am who takes off his shirt and made jokes about erections.

  Thing is, I hadn’t mentioned any of that to Erin because I know what she’d say, and I knew that I’d signed up for a few last things to add to my happy-with-life pot and that I needed to focus on the next few months.

  But after that? All bets were off.

  We’d moved onto the next filming for episode three, and only Clare, Brody, Ivan and me were left. I’m not sure Ivan’s heart was truly in it, and as I expected he was the one to leave us after his nod to the seventies flan collapsed in on itself. Just like Shauna, he had a reason to want to leave, and I didn’t blame him. He and Kristen had plans to visit more of the local area, and after his sound bites today we were saying goodbye to them both for the week until the final.

  I’d come out as the week’s best baker, although some of that was due to Brody, who’d encouraged me with smiles and kisses in breaks and added unashamed affection. We kept it mostly to ourselves, but a flour fight halfway through the filming of the showcase, which ended up with him looking like a ghost, probably implied more than I thought it had. Somehow we’d slipped up just by being us, and my social media was blowing up.

  Most of it was in a good way. It was labeled as cute that Brody and I were friends, and I even read a piece of torrid fan fiction that someone had written about the two of us, featuring doughnuts, KlecksoCream, and melted chocolate. Even better was that Brody read it to me last night, which ended up with blowjobs, cuddling, and the hottest goodnight kiss of my life.

  Losing Ivan from round three was hard. Not just because Ivan was taking Kristen and going off on a tour, but because I’d grown to like him a lot. He was funny and genuine and some of the best clips I’d gotten for my channel had been because I’d totally relaxed with him, and our banter was off the charts. The most recent post featuring him was my biggest post this year so far, and all it contained was Ivan and I talking about chocolate and ending up in tears of laughter over a stupid story about a chocolate penis he’d mistakenly had sent to Kristen’s mom for her birthday. It was stupid and funny, and when I peered at myself laughing, it was absolutely genuine. I felt that laughter through every cell in my body, and it was the most honest I’d ever seen myself on camera.

  Not that the Mallys couldn’t distinguish that fact. At least none of them pointed out that the video seemed more genuine, but the likes weren’t just a heart or a thumbs up or a laugh emoji, there were real comments, people sharing embarrassing stories of things they’d sent or received by mistake. Erin and her team went through and liked the posts but that did
n’t sit right with me, and I blame Brody completely for everything. He’s the one person I’ve ever met that makes me want to do better. The people who are commenting on my post, sharing all the funny stories, I should go through and individually respond and give people the time to talk. I made a list, but even factoring in the time to read them all, let alone answer them, was overwhelming. So much so, I ended up closing my phone and pretended that no one had commented at all.

  Great.

  I don’t think that Ivan had deliberately self-sabotaged his bakes. His strawberry and basil entremet didn’t set although he swore blind he’d added the right amount of gelatin, and then his prickly pear macaroons stayed flat. But I wonder what I would do if Brody had lost? Would I follow him as soon as I could?

  All I know is that with Ivan gone it was me, Brody, and the gloating Clare to go through to the filming for the fourth episode. I never thought I’d be invested in getting to the final show, but since Brody had happened, my entire outlook on WBBS had shifted. I didn’t have the extra bakers that Erin hired poking and primping to make things look good for the camera, but I’d actually won baker of the week this episode, and that wasn’t because everyone else was shit. In fact, my cupcake round was a close thing with Brody, and my showpiece was only just marginally better than Clare’s. But the judges said that it was the taste of my bakes that had won it for me. Just hearing those words meant the impostor syndrome cape I wore tightly around me began to slip.

  My bakes could be a little on the messy side at times, but I knew how to bake. I knew sugar work, and my chocolate tempering was fine. So I should have more faith in myself.

  Maybe I didn’t need Erin and her team? Was it possible that I could manage my own life very nicely, without her micro-managing what, when, and how I did things? She’d lose her shit over my idea of a children’s focus, and she was right. Justin the adult baker needed to change, and what if I could do it on my own?