Sugar Rush

by Donna Kauffman

  Afterward, she kissed him, smiling into his eyes, then curled up against him, under the protective wing of his arm, and fell instantly to sleep.

  He was bone weary from the day, and wrung completely out by their lovemaking, yet he stayed awake far longer into the night. Holding her, stroking her hair, feeling her heart beat against his he wondered how in bloody hell he would ever find the strength to walk away from her.

  She was in his care. She was his.

  It really was as simple, as elemental, as that.

  Chapter 16

  Falling asleep with him, so sweetly at ease, so supremely contented, had been sublime. So it stood to reason that waking up in the light of day together would be, at best, a cold douse of reality. Exactly what she’d need to put their night ... their whole, fantastic, amazing, ridiculously perfect night, into its proper, once-in-a-lifetime-be-thankful-you-experienced-it perspective.

  But no, Lani thought, snuggling under the weight of his arm draped over her waist, reveling in the way his cheek was nestled against the top of her head. She was still deeply, happily, merrily ensconced in fantasyland.

  “It’s time.” His raspy voice was far too sexy for first thing in the morning.

  She started to shift, so she could look at the little plug-in clock on the nightstand, but his arm became an instant steel band. “No wriggling.”

  “I wasn’t wriggling, I was trying to see the—” She tried to lean, but he held on. “Can’t—breathe,” she said, and would have laughed, if she could draw in enough air. “I thought girls were the clingy ones.”

  “One more wriggle and I’ll give new meaning to clingy.” He shifted his hips just enough so she could feel the very hard length of him pressing against the back of her thighs.

  “Oh,” she said with a surprised laugh.

  “Quite,” he replied, sounding sleepily amused.

  Lani wriggled.

  An instant later she was on her back with a very aroused man on top of her. “I believe you were warned, yes?”

  “Quite,” she replied. That was a pretty decent impression of his accent, she thought. “I’m just not sure why. Morning ... uh, clinging is good.”

  “Unless you’re the one who has to tell Rosemary why both of her principals are late.”

  Lani froze as laughter and teasing gave way to sheer panic. “It’s not that late, is it? The sun isn’t up. Call time for hair and makeup isn’t until seven.”

  “It’s raining.”

  She stopped, listened, and heard the soft pitter-patter. “I can’t believe I didn’t hear that and you did.”

  He pushed the hair from her face and smiled. “I’ve been awake longer than you.”

  “So, you’re telling me we had time for ... clinging? And you didn’t wake me up?”

  “It was quite the internal struggle. Well”—he pressed himself a bit further between her thighs—“partly external.”

  “Greatly external if you ask me.” She sighed, wanting badly to shift just a little, so he could do again what he’d done so well, so thoroughly, last night. Several times, in fact. “You had to debate it?”

  “I wasn’t aware of your morning, um, clinging proclivities. You’d had a long day yesterday, followed by a short, rather strenuous night—”

  She grinned, she simply couldn’t help it. When he continued to wait and look at her, she said, “Go on.” And kept grinning.

  “We’re facing a new day of interminable length, and so I was debating the relative merits of letting you get some extra, much needed rest, or ... starting the morning off with a, well, bang. As it were.”

  “So ... what time is it?”

  “Time to shower and get dressed. Which we’ll have to do separately—”

  “It’s a decent sized shower, and I’m all for water conservation.”

  He pushed forward a little. She groaned a lot. “Right. We’d run out of hot water, as well.” She wriggled just a little. “Are you sure we can’t just stop talking and—”

  “Rosemary.”

  Lani blanched. “Okay, that was just mean.”

  “Had to be done, luv. My willpower is about on par with yours at the moment.” He leaned down and kissed her.

  It was easy, comfortable ... and perfect. All of it had been that way, natural and compatible, as if they’d been together a very long time, rather than just one night. Of course, they’d been friends first, or co-workers who greatly respected and liked one another. The real friendship had begun on Sugarberry. But it all added up, along with the sizable zing of sexual attraction, to form something she’d never known before. It felt deep and strong, and very real to her, in a way that promised durability and longevity.

  “How do you want to handle this?” he asked, breaking into her musings.

  “Handle what? You can shower first.” She grinned and wriggled her toes. “I’ll force myself to stay snuggled here in this nice, warm bed.”

  He smiled. “I meant how do you want to handle things when we leave here and reenter the world. I guess we should have talked about it last night. I’m sure some of the crew, if not most of them, are already downstairs. Maybe I should have gone to the B&B at some point last night, or—”

  “I thought this was no boundaries, no rules?”

  “Between us, yes. I didn’t think—wasn’t sure—you’d want to announce it to the world.”

  “I’m pretty sure when Alva walked into the kitchen yesterday any hope of keeping this secret flew out the window.”

  “I meant the world beyond Sugarberry.”

  Lani’s smile faltered. “Oh. Right.” It was one thing for the citizens of Sugarberry to happily prod the two of them into what, to their eyes, would seem to be the beginning of a happy, burgeoning relationship. Quite another for word to spread beyond the island shores to the regular news outlets. It would, of course, if they chose to be open about everything. If the only news that leaked out was that an eighty-plus islander had spied them in a lip-lock, it would be rumor and innuendo, especially if they didn’t address it. Or get caught again. “I guess I didn’t think about that. I don’t want to do anything to put you in a difficult situation.”

  “Me?” he said, clearly confused. “I was talking about you.”

  She laughed. “You know, I don’t care anymore what anyone says. I don’t have to live in that world, and I think I’ve changed a lot in terms of how I think about all that, since you’ve come here. Charlotte pointed out to me that I had always filtered my feelings about that time through the person I was while I worked there. I’m a very different person here, living a completely different life. So ... I can let that go. It can’t really touch me here. On the island, I only have to deal with the locals, and there isn’t a mean spirit amongst them. No matter how excited they get over the proposition of us getting together, once you’re gone, the buzz will eventually die down and they’ll see it’s back to business and life as usual.”

  Lani tried hard, very hard, to stay casual and detached about that last part. “You’re the one who will be out promoting the new season of your show, and filming on location. The media might hound you about it.”

  He framed her face with his hands and brushed aside the loose strands of hair clinging to her cheeks with his thumbs. “I honestly don’t care about all that. I never have. I can handle whatever they throw at me. I just don’t want them hunting you.”

  “You want us to sneak around, then?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Do we get to use code words?”

  “I’m actually being serious, Lei. I don’t know what kind of fallout this might bring on either of us, but at the end of it, it’s you I don’t want hurt.”

  “You know”—she reached up to push his tousled hair from his forehead, still feeling too warm and afterglowy to be willing to spoil it with whatever came next—“I just don’t think I really am going to care. No matter what.”

  “But—”

  She pressed a finger on his mouth, then pushed at his bottom lip, and felt him twitch hard against
her thighs. Her body moved instinctively toward him. “So much has changed. Everything has changed. I don’t want to care about all that. I just want to care about”—she lifted her hips—“this. And you. I don’t want to spend the next week and a half worrying about what the rest of the world might think, or say, or do. If you don’t think it’s going to adversely affect your show in any way, and Rosemary’s not going to have a coronary or anything, then let’s just be ourselves and do whatever we feel like doing. Wherever, and in front of whomever, I don’t care.”

  He looked into her eyes. “I believe you really mean that.”

  “I do mean that. Every word.” She tugged his face down closer to hers. “Baxter, you mean more to me, being together for what time we have means more than anything they can throw my way. You’ve already proven you’re not going to be cavalier about it. You’re trying to be thoughtful and you obviously have my best interests at heart. I feel the same. We’ll handle things as they come. It’s too hard to second guess what’s going to happen, anyway. Maybe no one will really care.”

  He snorted. “You, of all people, know differently. And that was before I was on the telly five days a week.”

  “So what? You’re linked with actual famous people all the time. All you have to do is drape an arm on a shoulder at this benefit or that wine and food festival, and you’re instantly married, having twins, or already breaking up.” She cupped his cheek with her palm. “You’ll go on to the next town, and the story will shift to someone there. Or something else. Or someone else will make a new headline and you’ll be yesterday’s news for a while. What we do will go away, because you’re going away. And I’m staying here.”

  She saw something flicker in his eyes then, and it was too close—far too close—to that emotional edge she’d been purposely dancing away from all morning.

  “Lei—”

  “I don’t want to waste any more time talking about it, okay?” she said quickly. “I think Rosemary’s already on a full head of steam, so if she’s going to blow, then I think we might as well make it worth the misery she’ll be raining down on us later because of it.” With that, Lani hooked her ankle over his and, only because she caught him unaware, was able to roll him to his back, sliding right on top of him ... pinning his hands for a change.

  He didn’t fight her. In fact, he grinned. “You’re going to have your way with me then, is that it?”

  “You’re not the only one who can play marauding pastry chef.”

  His grin turned into a groan of deep appreciation. “You can maraud me anytime.”

  Lani couldn’t respond. She was too busy reveling in just how amazing they felt, joined. She’d thought maybe it was the delirium of the first time that had her thinking rosy thoughts. Well, and the second time. And the third.

  “How is it even better this time? How?” she panted, moving on top of him.

  She squealed an instant later when she found herself neatly on her back once again. He pushed deeper, and growled a little. “Am I hurtin’ you?”

  “No. Don’t stop,” she panted, then growled a little herself as he thrust into her, again and again. She knew now, when he was fully beyond controlling himself, bits and pieces of his childhood accent resurfaced. For whatever reason, that was just hot as all hell to her. It was earthy, primal.

  “Oh,” she said, then, “Oh!” when he pulled her thighs up higher along his waist, tilting her so she was just at the right angle to—

  “How do you—do that?” she managed. That was it as the crescendo of sensation washed up and over, taking her on a hard, fast ride in to shore.

  He held on while she jerked against him, then pinned her back to the bed and thrust deep, one last time, as he shuddered his way there himself.

  He was big, tall, and heavy. She would miss the sheer, breathless weight of him, pressing on top of every part of her.

  “Shower,” he said, still trying to find his breath. He rolled to his side, relieving her of his weight, but taking her with him as he did, keeping her nestled against him.

  He’d done the same each of the other times. It was the thing she’d already decided she liked best. Well, one of the things. But being intimately joined was one thing when their minds were mostly on stimulation and want and release. Afterward, staying wrapped up in each other, was an entirely different kind of intimacy.

  “I wish we didn’t have to go anywhere,” she murmured, leaning up to kiss the base of his throat, then along the curve of his shoulder. “Rainy days should be spent in bed.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” He let out a deep sigh.

  “I know, don’t say it.” She tucked her feet on the backs of his calves. “From now on, we’ll just refer to her as ‘She who will not be named.’ ”

  He was chuckling as he kissed her forehead. “As long as you don’t ever let her hear you say it.”

  Lani laughed, but grew more serious as she asked, “Will we—will you want to sleep here again tonight?”

  He tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “You’re uncertain?”

  “No, I mean, I assume we want to be together, but—oh, wait. You have dinner with Alva tonight.”

  “I do.” He kissed Lani on the curve of her cheek, then her temple, then dropped a hard fast one on her mouth. “If you want, you can go grill Charlotte about her date, do bake therapy as needed depending on how today goes, then I can either come by and get you after dinner is over—which would give me a nice excuse to not let it go on too long—or you can meet me back here if you’d like. Whatever is most comfortable for you. But”—he kissed her again, groaned, then stole one last one, before rolling away from her and getting straight off the bed—“we’re never going to get to this evening if we don’t get to work. I’ll shower first—”

  “I have some fresh clothes up here, but don’t you need to go back to your room and change?”

  He stopped just before ducking into the bathroom, which gave her a quite delightful view of his lanky, sinewy, beautifully naked frame in the morning light. She was never going to get tired of that view, and, in fact, made a mental note to come up with many reasons why he should stroll around naked. Often.

  “Right. Maybe I should duck out now, shower there.” Baxter walked over to where he’d left his clothes on the chair paired with the rolltop desk. “Meet you in makeup? Or in the kitchen?” he said as he shrugged on his shirt and pulled on his trousers.

  Lani stretched languorously, and couldn’t quite seem to wipe the grin from her face. “You don’t get any sick days? My shop happens to be closed for business right now, so I find myself available to play hooky.”

  “It’s so very, very tempting, luv.” He stopped right in the middle of pulling on his socks when she let the sheet slide off her body. “Now who’s being mean?”

  It wasn’t playing fair, she knew that, but she couldn’t get past how he looked at her, couldn’t really wrap her head around the fact that it was actually happening, and he truly wanted her, desired her, in all the same ways she’d wanted and desired him. “I’m not just hallucinating this, am I?”

  He crossed to the bed, leaned down, and kissed her. “No,” he said, rather roughly, when he finally lifted his head. “But it is a rather perfect dream, isn’t it?”

  She was still in bed when he let himself out. She knew she should be getting dressed and bracing herself for the day. But she was still too overwhelmed by the night before. She needed to think about it, let it sink in, figure out how she was going to handle the veritable tidal wave of emotions just one night spent with him had already ignited inside her.

  She wanted to bake. Badly.

  And not on camera, thankyouverymuch.

  Yet, that was her only option at the moment. She reminded herself it was only because she was going to be baking on camera with Baxter that she’d had the night she’d just experienced.

  She rubbed her hands over her face, and took a deep, bracing breath ... then still lay there and stared at the ceiling. “Yes, i
t is the perfect dream.”

  The idea that she was going to have a week or so more of that dream with Baxter, in and out of bed, was pretty much the best thing she could possibly anticipate. Better than the best thing.

  But the day after the last day with Baxter? She couldn’t imagine that. And she definitely wasn’t anticipating it.

  She dragged herself upright and slid her feet to the floor beside the bed. “What in the hell have you gotten yourself into, Lan?” she muttered.

  Forty-five minutes later, she was freshly showered, dressed, and disconnecting from a quick call to Charlotte. They’d shared only enough to let the other know the night before had pretty much been life-changing for each of them. Charlotte wasn’t so much surprised by Lani’s part, as she was by the fact that Lani had taken the leap. Lani, on the other hand, had no idea what to make of the Charlotte-Carlo pairing. As far as she knew Carlo had never been on Charlotte’s radar. Their paths had crossed numerous times at Gateau, because Charlotte had been a frequent visitor, but otherwise ... Lani shook her head. It was too much to think about. For all she knew, it was just Charlotte waxing rhapsodic due to the end of the long drought. Although that wasn’t the usual morning-after reaction. Usually, those were more along the lines of “what was I thinking? Was I really that desperate?”

  Carlo, in addition to making godlike nectar coffee, was a really good guy. But not Charlotte’s typical choice. She specialized in the emotionally unavailable and relationship challenged. Lani had her own theories about why that was, which she’d shared with Charlotte in many a morning-after bake session. But this had been different. Or maybe the rose-colored glasses were Lani’s.

  Too much to think about, not enough time to run home and bake it off. Lani jogged down the back outside stairs, thankful the rain had stopped, wondering if anyone had seen Baxter leave earlier, wondering what, if anything, she was going to face. She’d been one hundred percent honest when she’d told Baxter she didn’t care what people said. She didn’t. In the end, it didn’t matter to her, nor would it affect her choices.