by Alexa Hart
Doris starts asking Kane a bunch of different questions, and I excuse myself to make her coffee, which she nods appreciatively in agreement with. When I come back out, I bring the cookies. Doris takes a bite of one of the cookies and nods her head in approval. She seems impressed when I explain that Maddie and I made them together and scribbles something down in her little notebook. I sit down again next to Kane on the couch and he takes my hand.
“These are delicious,” Doris says.
“Thanks,” I say. “Maddie and I are trying to perfect gingerbread in time for the holiday rush. This one has some orange zest.”
Doris smiles. “La Florentina, correct?” She checks her notes. “That’s where you work?”
I nod. “It was my grandparent’s bakery. I’m there now helping while my uncle recovers from back surgery. I’m not much of a baker, actually,” I laugh. “I majored in psychology! Just passing along to Maddie what my mother taught me.”
Doris nods. “My dad used to take me to La Florentina when I was a kid. I loved the cannoli,” Doris says.
“Right!” I laugh. “My grandfather’s specialty and my mother’s favorite.”
“They stopped making them,” Doris says. “A while back. It was disappointing.”
“Mmm,” I nod. “After my parents and grandparents died, Uncle Rudy just didn’t have the heart to make them anymore. My best friend’s parents took me after the accident until I was eighteen, but Rudy and the bakery, they’re all I have left of my family. That place….it means a great deal to me. Maddie really likes it there too. She helps every day after school,” I say. “Kind of passing on the family tradition to her.”
Doris scribbles something else and I lean forward. “But, homework comes first. We...I didn’t have much money for college and I got through with scholarships. Schoolwork always comes first.”
Doris looks up at me and smiles. “Don’t worry, Dear. I think it’s wonderful. Maddie seems lucky to have two people who care about her so deeply. And who care about each other.”
I risk a glance at Kane. I mean, I never really talk about my parents, but with him it seems, I don’t know, like the fear of the emotions being too much for me isn’t a problem. Like Kane is tough enough, strong enough, to keep me from falling into the grief I always run from. He’s looking at me with deep, caring eyes that nearly take my breath away. He takes his hand and brushes a strand of hair from my eyes. I keep talking but I’m talking more to Kane than Doris.
“Losing my mom makes me feel...I really want Maddie to have what I didn’t. She deserves so much and I want her to have someone to bake cookies with, to talk to about boys or school or her dreams. She wants to be a veterinarian, you know, and I think she ought to have a dog,” I break my gaze away from Kane because if I don’t, I might just melt from the heat of his gaze. I try to laugh and turn back to Doris. “But I doubt Kane will go for it ...yet,” I smile. I can’t help it, with Doris as the audience I feel like imagining it all as if it could be true. “It will have to be a dog. Because he clearly isn’t a cat person,” I laugh.
Kane raises his eyebrows in mock affront. “Says who?”
I laugh. “You like cats?”
“I mean, no, but I don’t get how you can just tell that about me.”
“Oh, yeah,” I laugh. “Sorry I misjudged again. Clearly in a former life, you were a cat lady.”
Doris clears her throat and we turn back, caught up again in our own energy and ignoring the woman, the reason, why we are together. And why we aren’t real.
“I think this is good for today. I’ll have one more visit with Maddie home as well and then I’ll report my findings to both lawyers.”
I stand up and walk Doris to the door. I bring the tray of cookies. “Will you take a few more for the road. And if you want, I can make the cannoli next time you come. It’s probably time to dust off the recipe,” I say.
“My dear, I am not someone who can be bribed, but, if I were ever to be bribed, it would certainly be with cannoli,” she winks at me and takes two more cookies off the tray. Kane has started cleaning up the coffee cups from the table and as he leans over I see Doris’s eyes stray to his very handsome behind. “And might I add that Maddie is not the only lucky lady in this house,” she shakes her head. “The way he looks...and the way he looks at you...you won’t need a fireplace in the winter to heat this house.”
We both giggle and Kane looks up. “What?” he asks.
Doris winks at me and heads out the door. I close it behind her. I walk over to him and have a sudden, delicious feeling. Doris sees it too. I am not hallucinating this because I want him. The look he gave me earlier, his touch. He’s not avoiding me because he doesn’t want me, he’s avoiding me because he does. The virgin thing must seem like too much pressure. So I just need to show him I don’t need anything more than whatever it is he is willing to offer.
“You’re looking at me like you’re a lion and I’m dinner,” he says. “It’s unnerving.”
I shove him gently down on the couch and he falls back in surprise, but I also see his eyes flare. He’s been avoiding me because he wants me. The rush of power in this sudden understanding is amazing.
I hike my skirt up and straddle him. “Wait...whoa,” he says. “What are you doing?”
I pull my hair around my shoulder and lean down so our lips are close. I know he wants to resist but his eyes darken and his voice is husky.
“I’m testing a theory,” I say. I reach down and pull his shirt off over his head.
“Summer…” he says. I stop him from talking by kissing him, slowly at first, and then, as he gives in to the temptation of my body on his, the kiss deepens and becomes urgent. His tongue touches mine and a jolt of intense electricity shakes me. I groan into his mouth and his hands ride up my thighs, my skirt bunched at my waist, and he rubs the edge of my panties with his thumbs. I can feel his erection build beneath me. As he kisses me, he moves his hands reluctantly away from my panties and begins to unbutton my blouse. The blouse falls to the ground and he tugs the cups of my pink lace bra down so that he can rub my nipples between his strong, calloused fingers. I lean back and break away from his kiss. Then I reach down and stick my hand into his pants pocket.
“That’s not where I want you to put your hands,” he says.
“Shut up,” I laugh. I pull out a dollar bill from his pocket and hold it out in front of him. “This is for the swear jar,” I say.
“But I didn’t swear,” he says.
“But I am about to,” I say. I lean forward and put my lips to his ear. “Because I want you to fuck me. Hard.”
He freezes. Just like last time.
“I want you to fuck me,” I repeat. I let the dollar fall onto the couch and now I do lower my hands down and massage the bulge pulsing between my spread legs. “And I think you want to fuck me too.” I reach back and unfasten my bra. This time he isn’t pushing me off of him, but I can see the fight going on inside his head. Is he trying to protect me from himself? God, the idea that he’s trying to protect me, even now, even from himself makes me so hot I can barely breathe. I take his face in my hands and kiss him slowly and deeply. I rock gently against him and I can feel his resolve melting in the same heat he feels. And then, before I know it, I am being lifted up off of him again. My heart drops. He’s rejecting me again. Even though I basically begged him. But then as I stand in front of him, I feel his hand inch up my skirt and with one hand on my back, he pulls my skirt and panties down. I step out of them and now I stand in front of him naked. His chest is rising and falling and I watch as his eyes take me in. I should feel exposed or embarrassed but the way he looks at me makes me feel needy and desperate.
“I need you to fuck me,” I say. “Please.”
He takes my body and presses me down on the couch. He kisses me and I feel the weight of his body above me as he kisses my mouth, then makes his way down to my breasts and then lower. He spreads my legs and begins to kiss the inside of my thighs. I moan and writhe
. I thrust my body up to meet his lips and he chuckles.
“All in good time, Princess,” he says. I feel his hand as his fingers begin to massage my clit and then the tender, soft warmth of his tongue as he probes me. I let my hands fall through his hair and arch my back to match the tempo of his thrusting fingers. He moves his mouth back up my body and bites gently on my nipple as his fingers continue to tease me. I feel my body tighten and I moan and clutch at Kane. His mouth presses down on mine and he continues to stroke and thrust his fingers inside me while his other hand massages my hard nipples.
“Oh, fuck, Kane,” I say. I feel the orgasm building.
“That’s it, Princess,” he growls. “Fuck my fingers.”
He pinches my nipple and kisses me hard and deep while I rock and moan against his fingers inside me. I feel the heat overwhelming me, and I shudder and cry out again and again. After a moment, I relax back on the couch, Kane’s hands tight around my thighs. He’s kissing me as I feel his hand leave my breast and brushes the hair back gently from my face.
“That was fucking unreal,” I say.
“I hate to break it to you, but you owe a small fortune to that swear jar,” he chuckles.
“And we aren’t even done yet,” I say. I squirm under his body and shove my hands under the waistband of his pants and briefs. The feeling of his hard cock in my hands is enough to make me clench my thighs in pleasure. He moans and rubs himself against my hands.
“I can’t,” he shakes his head.
“It won’t mean anything,” I say. I say this to reassure him, since I assume his fear is that I’ll turn into some lovesick puppy if he takes my virginity when what I am is like a lustful teenager. But I don’t think he likes what I say and I can see a flare of anger in his eyes. He slides away and sits up. I know I’ve said the wrong thing, but I don’t understand. Isn’t he the one who said he only does meaningless?
“If we fuck, we can’t get an annulment. Don’t tell me you don’t care about that.”
He’s right, I do care. I only want to get married once. But I also don’t want us to stop, and I am a smart girl.
“Fine,” I climb off the couch and pull him up. I reach down and massage his erection still bulging under his pants. “But that doesn’t mean we are done yet.”
“I just told you I can’t,” he says.
“You said you won’t have sex with me. But I’m a big fan of tit for tat.”
I trail my hands down his muscular chest and feel his breathing become tauter with my touch. I linger and trace his tattoos with my fingers.
“Jesus, Summer, it should be illegal to look like you do right now,” he says.
I reach down and unbutton the fly of his pants and then tug them and his boxer briefs down. I kneel down in front of him. His cock is big and hard and I reach out and inexpertly take it in my hand and move my hand up and down, taking genuine pleasure in the way it feels in my hand. I lick the shaft and cup his balls in my hand gently. He grabs my hair and moans as I take his cock in my mouth.
“I thought you said you were a fucking virgin,” he moans.
I lick the shaft of his pulsing cock and giggle.
“It doesn’t mean I was a nun. Plus, Becca made me watch a bunch of YouTube tutorial videos. She said she didn’t want me to be caught unprepared.”
I feel his hands rough in my hair as he begins to thrust his cock into my mouth. I reach around with one hand and squeeze that ass of his, as strong and perfect as I imagined. I clutch it and rock with him as his need grows in my mouth. I take his cock deep into my throat, relishing the control I have on him. The need he can’t hide. As his body quickens, he calls out my name again and again.
Afterwards, he collapses back onto the couch with his eyes closed and I slink back next to him and wrap myself around him. He doesn’t fight me off, I’ve exhausted him too much. He kisses me gently and holds me close to his chest.
“I’ve got to be careful with you, Princess. You’re more dangerous than you look.”
Chapter 16
Summer
Poppy whistles back to me as I knead a loaf of bread. “He’s here again!” She says.
She is referring to a young man named Peter, who’s become a regular customer in the last few weeks. He’s some sort of big deal advertising exec and he usually gets a coffee and a muffin and sits at one of the tables and works for an hour or two. Kane helped me set-up free wifi when I first started fixing the place up since I thought it would help attract younger customers, and it has! But Poppy is convinced that this particular customer keeps coming around because he is interested in more than just the free refills and wifi.
“He’s always checking you out when you bring up goodies to the counter,” she says.
“He is not,” I say back.
“Summer, I really don’t think you realize what a goodie you are,” she shakes her head. “It’s really such a waste. I’d make good use of your body, for sure.”
“You really think he’s interested in me?” I ask.
The truth is, I’m not interested in Peter, but ever since that day on the couch, Kane’s gone back to being distant. I think it’s that he doesn’t want to be the one to take my virginity, even though I basically ordered him to and now I’m not sure he trusts himself or me to be able to stop. It’s been a week and he’s taken to sleeping on the couch if he comes home at all. I guess he really does think I’ll cling to him like some lovesick puppy. But what I really want is just for Kane to fuck me all the time. I feel a little guilty swearing even in my head, but that’s what I want him to do to me, and just like how I know I shouldn’t want my fake husband, the wanting something so wrong feels really, really right. So maybe Kane is right. We are in dangerous territory. After everything that I’ve lost, falling for a guy who lives a lifestyle where he comes home with bruises and has to lie about his life isn’t exactly the smart and safe move. And his fear that I’ll go gaga-eyes on him shows he’s not interested in more than a little fun. But Peter, a marketing exec who’s stable and wears chinos and polo shirts, seems like someone who wouldn’t mind a virgin, and someone who wants a white picket fence kind of life one day. He seems totally safe.
So this time, when I bring out a tray of fresh chocolate chip cookies and start stacking them in the display case, I look up and catch his eye. And just like Poppy had said, his eyes were already on me. He has sandy brown hair, a square jaw, and the look of someone who knows how to sail. He’s much more my Oxford boy than Kane, but the idea doesn’t thrill me as it should. Still, I remind myself, he’s what I always said I wanted.
“Want to try one?” I ask. I hold out a freshly baked pastry in my hand. “On the house.”
Peter smiles and stands up. He comes over to the counter and takes the treat from my hand. “Only if you’ll join me for a bit,” he smiles. He has the most wholesome smile. I bet he was a boy scout as a kid. I nod. We sit down at his table and start talking.
Peter is actually really pleasant company, and he’s funnier than I thought he’d be. He’s from Michigan originally and moved out to Chicago after college to help his friend with a start-up, a hip marketing firm that specializes in algorithms or something like that. It all sounds completely good and healthy and he even offers to help out the bakery with a marketing campaign. I know he’s flirting and I see him glance at my fingers. I don’t wear the wedding ring at the bakery because I still haven’t really explained to anyone what I did, especially not Rudy, who’s still at the hospital, though I tell Maddie it’s because I don’t want to get the ring covered in dough. His glance tells me something. And while Becca always said I was terrible at taking cues and that’s why I never dated much what she doesn’t know is that I could sometimes tell, I mean I’m not a total dating idiot, but none of them interested me, even if they were exactly what I thought I wanted. But with Kane, I hadn’t just taken the cues, I’d given the orders. For a moment I realize how messed up this whole last month has been--I can’t want what I want, it’s too dangerous and
it has a clear expiration date. We’re only playing at being a family. When Kane and Maddie are gone, I’ll be alone again. I’m so lost in my thoughts, half-listening to Peter chatting that I don’t even hear the bakery door open until I feel the heat on the back of my neck. The heat that only comes from one person. The heat that has as much potential to warm me as burn me to ashes. I turn around and find Kane glaring at me. Maddie holds a sleeping bag and a small backpack next to him. She waves at me.
“Oh, hey,” I wave back. I look at Peter. “I have to go. My apprentice is here,” I say.
“I’m going to start the cookies,” she says, and eagerly sprints back into the kitchen. Kane doesn’t budge.
“Yeah, um, hey,” Peter looks a little shy and I don’t blame him. He starts to pack up. “I should get back to the office.” Kane has shifted his heated gaze to Peter and this time it is more the I will kill you kind of look he is drilling into Peter’s head. “I’ll see you around,” he says. I want to turn around and murder Kane myself. He doesn’t get to chase out the one man who might be interested in me without a binding contract.
I’ve changed my mind about Peter. He’s perfect and in a few months I’ll be free to date whoever I want. Hell, I can do it now as long as it’s not obvious. And I have needs. Kane has made that clear to me. So if Kane doesn’t want me, I’ll find someone who does!
“Peter, wait,” I say. I hand him my phone. “Can I have your number? In case I need help marketing the place.”
“Yeah, sure,” he says, taking my phone and punching in his number.
I head back into the kitchen. Usually Kane stalks after Maddie and says a few terse words to me or helps out around the back fixing things up, he’s actually pretty handy. I tell myself he hangs out and helps just to be around Maddie and take us home so she doesn’t have to ride the bus, but sometimes I wonder. This time though, he just leaves without a word.