Icing on the Cake

by Moira McTark

  His hand snaked up the side of her torso, seeking out her breast and brushing her nipple with the pad of his thumb.

  She panted, watching her reflection, fully nude, obscured only by Jason’s dark hair moving back and forth as he devoured her sex. Her skin was pale, dotted by a flush of red across her chest and neck where the blood beneath the surface had started a slow boil.

  Hips rocking with the motion of his mouth, Laine let her head loll back against the wall, the coil of desire twisting tighter within her. Her breath came faster. She gripped the rail behind her as though she clung to it for dear life.

  Suddenly, the sound of Here Comes the Bride filled the small elevator, drowning out her pleasured gasps. Laine’s hands fisted against the rail. “No,” she cried. “God, I’m so close! Ignore it, please.”

  Jason didn’t seem to have much problem doing just that, the tiny music played for a few more seconds before the call went to voice mail and the elevator was again echoing only the sounds of wet kisses and groans as Jason pleasured her.

  Keeping her eyes riveted on their reflection, she climbed toward orgasm fast. Jason’s hand pulled and played with her nipple while his mouth worked her sex. He squeezed the tip of her nipple as he tongued her channel. She was so close, so wet, her body clenched and pulsed with every plunge, pinch and lap. Her breath was ragged, her moans persistent. And the phone started playing again.

  “Agh!” She crashed down several rungs on the pleasure ladder, but Jason’s hands shifted—one on to her ass, where he pulled her closer against him as he circled her clit, and the other down to her silk clutch on the floor.

  Thank God, he was going to turn the damn thing off. But just as she’d started to relax back into the rhythm of his feast, he held the phone up in front of her face…open and connected!

  He sucked her erect clit between his teeth, making her yelp as she grasped the phone.

  “Laine? Laine? This is Connie, what’s going on? The wedding—how was it?”

  Laine stared at the phone in horror as Jason nibbled the erogenous bundle of nerves at her center. What could she do? He’d connected the call!

  “Connie,” her voice sounded husky and thick. “The wedding…sooo good...”

  “Well, good. You deserve it after last week. Have you spoken to the florist about replacing the tulips for the Masters/Felps wedding?”

  Laine’s brain struggled to follow and decipher the words coming through the phone… She let her head fall back, wondering if she could just hang up, explain later that there had been bad reception… All she wanted was to slide onto Jason’s cock and ride him into oblivion. The pleasure was more than she could bear.

  The pressure against her clit increased, jarring her out of her trance. He was circling hard with the pointed tip of his tongue and slipping two fingers inside her while he did it. She was going to come on the spot—no, on the phone with her boss!

  “Yes… yes… Yes, Connie, it’s taken care of.” She rushed. “Now’s not a… mmm… so good… time. Let me call you…uuuhhh… tomorrow with more details… bye—”

  She could hear Connie’s goodbye as she flipped the phone closed and disconnected the call. Tossing the phone aside, she wound her fingers into Jason’s hair as sharp, pulsing waves crashed through her body. Screaming, she came against his mouth.

  —

  Laine was wrapped around Jason, her naked arms and legs like a vice, her kisses covering his face, hair and neck—she was chaos in a pleasured assault showering down on him. With Laine in his arms, his suit pants at his knees, her dress in his teeth, Jason staggered out of the elevator into his apartment, slammed Laine’s bare back against the foyer wall. Dropping the dress over the secretary table, he gritted his teeth.

  “I need you. God, hurry,” she cried against his neck, wriggling against his cock, trying to pull herself over it.

  “The bedroom… just a few feet away,” he promised them both, grinding against her wet pussy with a groan, using all his restraint to wait for the condom in the bedside table.

  “The bedroom,” she gasped, with a sultry, teasing laugh. “I’m honored. I thought your dates never saw the inside of your apartment.” A fresh assault of kisses and bites rained down over his neck and ear. “After my shower here last week, tonight will be twice already—those hotel gossips are worthless for reliable information.”

  Jason almost stopped dead. It was true. He never felt right bringing women back to the penthouse. It was where he went to sleep, not to fuck his casual dates. But it hadn’t even occurred to him that he wouldn’t bring Laine up here. He’d been fantasizing about luring her into his bed for months. In his head she belonged in his apartment, in his space, spending time with him. Forever.

  Still, it wasn’t what he’d expected to hear as he tumbled through the apartment with her in his arms. The fact was, none of the rules he lived by seemed to matter in the context of Laine Malone. She was worth the risk… to everything. As quickly as the thought entered his mind, it fled with Laine’s words. “I’m about to come just from touching you. Hurry, I want you inside me…”

  He was done for.

  —

  Pillows, shoes, sheets, and an array of discarded clothing covered the floor, making Laine’s tiptoed trek across the dimly lit bedroom a treacherous one. She picked through one pile, then moved on, picking through another. Where was it?

  “What are you looking for, baby?” Jason’s gruff voice sounded behind her.

  “My dress,” she said quietly, looking up at him across the bed with a smile. A scrap of blanket covered one leg and his waist, leaving the rest of his muscled physique properly displayed. He ran one hand across his chest and then stretched back with his arms locked over his head. Pure masculine motion. The flex of his triceps was too much to resist, and Laine climbed back into the bed. Jason’s mouth curved up with his sexy grin, and she wondered how she’d managed not to jump him for so long.

  Taking one of her wrists, he pulled her across him so she straddled his waist.

  “I thought we had this all worked out. You were going to stay naked for me; I was going to pleasure you beyond your wildest dreams.”

  Laine laughed. “I assure you, I’ve been thoroughly pleasured.”

  Jason smiled, running his hands over her hips. Then he sat up, shifting Laine back on his lap as he leaned over the side of the bed. “Here why don’t you put this on for now?” He handed her the white dress shirt he’d been wearing when they descended on his previously immaculate apartment.

  She slipped her arms into the huge sleeves and wrapped herself in the fine cotton that smelled of his cologne. “Perfect.”

  Jason’s hands skimmed up the front of the unbuttoned shirt, over the swells of her breasts, and brushed her nipples through the fabric. “Hungry?”

  “What?” Not at all where she’d expected him to go next.

  Jason grabbed the phone off the nightstand and hit the speed dial. “I have the best open-late Chinese delivery place. Chow’s. You like spicy?”

  Her stomach rumbled at the mention of food and, considering the workout they’d had, it made sense that she’d need a few extra calories to make it through the night. Chinese sounded fantastic.

  She nodded. “Really spicy.”

  After a warm greeting with whoever answered the phone at Chow’s, he began ordering, and after the fifth item, she crawled off his lap, wondering how much carryout Jason ate. He owned a five star restaurant on the second floor, looked to have a fully functional kitchen in the penthouse, and yet he seemed to have committed the entire menu to memory. Her kind of man; he had skills.

  Pulling her hair out of the neck of his shirt, she twisted it over one shoulder and ventured out into the apartment, giggling at the evidence of their path into the bedroom. Finding her dress a few feet in from the elevator doors, she picked it up along with her keys, clutch, and Jason’s suit jacket. She set her things in a pile on the end table and then hung his jacket over a chair in the dining room, smoothing the wrin
kles as she looked around.

  The first time she’d been here, she was so flustered by her cake-coated mad dash for the elevator she hadn’t noticed anything other than the difficulty of washing frosting out of her hair. But now, as she looked around, she saw the penthouse as if for the first time. It was immense. Floor to ceiling windows against the far wall offered a sprawling view of the city’s sparkling night lights and the dark void of water beyond. The classic décor was a testament to his good taste, and Laine found herself walking through the space touching every chair and table, wondering if Jason had selected it himself.

  Strong arms circled her waist; warmth pressed against her back. It felt like heaven. “Food’s going to be here in fifteen minutes.”

  Jason brushed her hair back over her shoulder and planted a quick kiss against her neck before crossing over to the piano. Wearing a pair of black track pants and no shirt, he sat down on the bench and began playing Frank Sinatra’s Fly Me to the Moon.

  Was there anything this man wasn’t good at?

  Laine fell into the armchair beside the piano, tucking her legs up beneath her. He played beautifully, fingers dancing over the keys with practiced ease.

  “Is this how you get all the girls to fall for you?”

  Jason looked up, continuing to play. “Why, is it getting me somewhere?”

  Yes. “I don’t know. I still think you’re going to have to work a little harder for me. I’m not your average girl, playboy.”

  He smirked at her. “Playboy?”

  “As if you don’t know your reputation. You had a different woman on your arm every time I saw you.” She arched her brow for emphasis. “I saw you a lot. What changed?”

  “You.”

  She laughed and dropped her gaze to her lap. It sounded like such a line. But she wanted to believe it.

  Jason went on. “Basically, I had a bad lesson in love pretty early. Almost made it down the aisle, but I walked in on my fiancée with a man between her legs the night before the wedding. It turned out everyone knew about it but me. No one wanted to tell me. Anyway, when I told her it was over, she was furious. She wanted to be Mrs. Henley way more than she wanted me. Thought we should get married anyway, that we could both fuck whomever we pleased… I was in love with her, so that was a big hurt. I didn’t want to face it again. So I dated…a lot,” he said, with a little grin, “never letting anyone get close enough to matter.”

  She’d known there was a history, but she’d never found out the details. Looking at the man in front of her, his fingers dancing flawlessly over the keys, she wondered how any woman could ever choose to be with another. It didn’t make sense. “I’m sorry, Jason.”

  “Don’t be. I have you. I have everything I want.”

  She was flustered. He said all the right things. So right that she didn’t know how to respond and suddenly nerves had her searching for the safety of their banter. “You’re so sure you have me?”

  “Okay, you want me to work for it?” He played on and when Laine thought there could be no better way to pass the time, he glanced over at her, a tentative look on his face. “If you tell anyone, I’ll throw you off the roof.”

  “What are you talk—”

  He opened his mouth and, in a low sexy voice that made every hard defense Laine had built around her heart melt into a pool between her legs, put Harry Connick, Jr. to shame.

  Laine watched, her heart thudding against her ribs like it wanted to break free and crawl into his lap. Realizing her mouth was hanging open, still frozen mid-question, she snapped it shut. Suddenly she felt like she was the one who had the work to do.

  From the kitchen the phone sounded with two sharp trills. Jason jumped up from the piano, rubbing his hands together. “Food’s here.”

  He walked over to the elevator doors and rifled through his wallet for a few bills.

  Laine crossed to the piano to admire the silver framed photos displayed atop the dark wood’s mirror finish. Pictures of Jason with his parents in various locales around the world. He looked like his father. But his smile was all mom. She wondered what a child of Jason’s might look like, maybe a girl—

  Her face flooded with heat. The man had taken her back to his apartment for a fling. What the hell was she doing speculating over the mergence of Henley/Malone genes? What did she even know about Jason outside of work? That he was extraordinary in bed? That he was a glutton when it came to spicy midnight snacks from Chows?

  That everything he did surprised her and made her smile. That he always seemed to know what to say to make her laugh. Or that he could talk to her about anything and make her feel like the only person in the world who mattered.

  Maybe she knew a few things. Maybe she knew more than she realized.

  She swallowed hard. This was so not keeping her emotions from spiraling out of control.

  The doors swished open behind her and the spicy, sweet aroma of steaming hot food tickled her nose and made her mouth water. Laine pulled the front of Jason’s shirt across her chest. It hung almost to her knees, but she still felt self-conscious when the delivery guy glanced in.

  “Hey man, big order tonight. Is this your wedding planner?”

  Laine’s eyes widened in surprise.

  Jason grinned like a goof and, shoving the bills into the delivery guy’s hand, took the three handle bags into his own. “Beat it, Jimmy, before you get me in trouble.”

  Jimmy chuckled and backed into the elevator. “Night, Jay. See you tomorrow.”

  The doors closed, and Jason brought the food to the floor in front of the fireplace. Tearing into the bags he set up one box after another, opening each to display the bounty.

  “You want to pick out something to listen to?”

  Laine walked over to the stereo and looked at a couple of the discs lying on top. Jack Johnson, Jason Mraz, Ella Fitzgerald, and The Police to name a few. Nice. “Oh, I love this one,” she said, selecting Maroon 5, Songs about Jane.

  “I know, you were humming that one tune for weeks. I had to ask Karen at the front desk what it was. You don’t mind the floor, do you?”

  Laine stared down at him. How had she missed it?

  She walked over and knelt next to him. “Not at all. What have we got here?”

  Plucking up the chopsticks he delved into one of the white boxes and held his pick out to her mouth. “The first cashew, for you.”

  “This must be love.”

  Jason smiled, leaning back on one arm as he fished out another spicy morsel for her. “The Kung Pao is going to knock your socks off.

  Chapter Three

  Saturday, the nineteenth of June

  Laine all but danced into the hotel lobby. Having spent her first night out of Jason’s bed since she fell into it the week before, she was giddy with excitement to see him this morning. After last night’s rehearsal, she’d met with Connie to discuss potential problems that might surface with the happy couple, and by the time they’d wrapped up it was late. So she’d gone home, alone, and spent half the night awake, frustrated and thrashing in the sheets, kicking at the cold emptiness around her. But now relief was only a penthouse away.

  The wedding was going to be a breeze, and she was flying high. There was nothing to catch them up. Nothing to worry about.

  Laine had kept a watchful eye on the groom, and not once had he even looked at another woman. He barely looked at her, even when she asked him direct questions. She was hoping for another Saturday of smooth-sailing wedding bliss and another night in Jason’s arms and bed. She’d worn the new, shimmering blue dress he’d sent her as a gift to replace the one saturated in the four-tiers of twice-abandoned cake from two weeks ago, and it was going to take all of her restraint not to beg him to tear it off her.

  Her plan was to steal a few hours this morning with him before both of their days kicked into high gear. Maybe offer him a little preview of the night to come by showing off the bra and panty set that matched her dress exactly. Ask for his expert opinion on the ease of getti
ng her out of them.

  Unable to help herself, she rushed up to the concierge desk and bounced on her toes. “Hi Jackie, looking lovely this morning. I’m here for Jason.”

  Jackie flashed a winning smile and nodded quickly. “Sure, Ms. Malone, he left instructions that you head straight up to the residence. Elevator One will take you direct, and I’ll call to let him know you’re on your way.”

  “Thank you.” She had to stop smiling like this. Anyone who saw her was bound to read each and every emotion flitting through her head. Her business smile, the bride smile, was warm and reassuring, but only surface deep. It showed what she wanted it to, and nothing more. These days though, she had complete strangers beaming back at her like her grin made their day. It was downright embarrassing. She was out of control… and it felt incredible.

  Inside the elevator, the doors swished shut and the display flashed to “Private car.” She had the perfect greeting in mind, but she had to move fast.

  —

  The elevator doors opened, and all conscious thought abandoned Jason’s head.

  Draped provocatively against the rail of the car, Laine wore nothing but a bra, panties and her matching sapphire blue, strapped heels. With one foot propped against the rail, the other planted firmly on the floor, she was one enticing invitation.

  Her eyes flashed mischief from beneath lowered lids as her fingers played at the waist of her tiny panties. “I’ve been thinking about you all night long.”

  A deep groan rumbled from somewhere near Jason’s stopped heart. He wanted nothing more than to step into the car, sink to his knees in front of her, and set his mouth to giving her something she’d never forget. But he knew he couldn’t.

  “Laine, you take my breath away.” He stepped into the elevator, stripped off his blazer, and wrapped it around her shoulders. “But I’ve got to talk to you about something first.”

  The wanton look disappeared, and she transformed into the controlled creature he so often saw handling nuptial emergencies. “What?” she asked, braced for anything.