Mangos and Mistletoe

by Adriana Herrera

  “That Santa in board shorts you made out of modelling chocolate is kind of hot,” she joked.

  “You’re ridiculous.” I said biting back a smile while I looked at the screen of my phone which had been buzzing in my pocket. “Your mom just DMed me asking for a photo, by the way.” Since we’d followed each other, her mom had gotten into the habit of getting to Sully through me. Because my teammate didn’t remember where her phone was 90 percent of the time.

  “I don’t know where I left my phone, but she knows better. We can’t send photos. Just tell her I’ll call her later. Please, babe. I’ll put the cake away while you do it.”

  I smiled at the “babe.” She’d been calling me everything but my name since yesterday, and I had to admit, it was growing on me.

  “Done.” I pocketed my phone and kept looking at her as she moved around the room, putting all the things that we’d baked in a secured fridge.

  “We have to remember to take our notebook too. We have all the designs and the notes in there.”

  She nodded, her back to me as she carefully placed our practice cake inside. “Yeah, because”—she lowered her voice for the next part—“the Beccas are slick as fuck.”

  “Right,” I said distractedly as I looked at her bend down to adjust something in the lower part of the fridge. Her round ass became my entire field of vision.

  She closed the door to the big fridge and turned around, a suggestive smiled bloomed on her lips as soon as she saw my face. “You see something you like, chef?”

  I beckoned her to me in answer. “Ven aca, Sully.”

  The thought of what it would feel like to go back to LA and my small apartment shared with three roommates who I barely spoke to, tried to edge out the lust that was starting to swirl in my gut. But for once, I pushed it all aside and focused on the now, and how badly I wanted her.

  When she came to me, I put my arms around her waist and kissed her deep, then pressed soft kisses to her jaw. “We’re going to kick ass tomorrow.” She tasted sweet from trying all the stuff we’d made, and it seemed like I would never get enough.

  There were moments when these last few days seemed like they’d been an entire lifetime. That Sully and I had made our own world here.

  “We make a good team.” she said, as she planted kisses on my neck and face, making me shiver.

  “We do.” I gave her more access to my neck, as I moved my hands down to her ass. “You came up with the idea for the sticky toffee pudding soufflé. I think we’re going to blow their minds with that.”

  Sully preened and went back kissing every inch of skin she could get to. She kept talking between licks and nips. “And don’t forget the Whisky Cream semifreddo. That’s where my badassery really jumped out.”

  “I need to be very thorough today in showing my gratitude,” I promised as I dipped two fingers into her heat.

  Sully groaned, pressing herself tightly to me. “Can you give me a preview now? Because kitchen sex is kinda one of my ultimate fantasies.”

  It was like she’d discovered the button inside of me where my unbridled lust lived. I’d lost count of the times we’d come together in the last couple of days, and every time we did, it just seemed to make me want her more. I was addicted to the way Sully tasted, how she moved. The way she sounded when I made her come. Like it wouldn’t occur to her to hold back, to not show me, tell me what I did to her. In an instant, I had her up on one of the counters in the kitchen, kissing her hard, my hands on her breasts.

  Her nipples were hypersensitive, and she could come just from me playing with them. I was obsessed. I pinched and worried one while I kissed her neck. When she let out a moan, I pulled back, extracting an outraged balk in response.

  I made a zipping motion across my mouth. “We have to be very quiet.” I pointed at the wall. On the other side, we could hear the music the Beccas always had playing. I came close again and kissed up her neck until I was talking against her mouth. “If you can’t keep it down, your dream of kitchen fucking will not come true.” I had no idea where this raunchy version of me had come from, but for Sully, she was always on tap.

  She put a finger over her lips. “Shhh, I’ll be super quiet, babe, I promise. But I need you,” she whispered urgently, followed by more soft nibbles and kisses. Her hand blindly guiding mine to her wet pussy. She was always like this, ready, wanting. Sometimes it felt that if given the chance, I could lose days caught up in her.

  I stepped back after one last bruising kiss and pulled her ass closer to the edge. “Let me see what this mighty need is all about.” I looked up for a second and waved a hand at the counter. “Hold on.” She gripped the edges, lips red and swollen, as her eyes followed my every move.

  This was crazy, reckless, and other than a fire or a natural disaster, I didn’t think anything would be able to stop me. I went down on my knees so that my mouth was exactly at her crotch. I brought my eyes up and discovered she’d closed hers, already lost to what she knew I’d give her. “Babe, please.”

  I nosed her cunt over the thin fabric of her leggings, smelling her. Her scent had been stuck to my hands for days, and I was loath to even think of what it would be like to lose it. I mouthed her moisture and she bucked forward, needy.

  “Stop teasing me.” she pleaded through gritted teeth, and brought one hand to the back of my head.

  I leaned back and tipped my head up to look at her. “But you haven’t said what you want.”

  “You. I want you.” There was some kind of primal thing that happened to me whenever she got like this, her voice reedy and just a little desperate. Like only I could give her what she needed. I pressed my open mouth to her crotch and tongued over the fabric, trying to coax out more pleas. “Take them off. Off,” she demanded and I obliged.

  I pulled on her leggings as she pushed her ass off the counter, and a few tugs later, I had them down to her ankles, her slick pussy at eye level. My mouth watered from how much I wanted her. I pressed my face closer, one hand on her thigh, the other spreading her labia, so I could see all of her.

  “I can’t stop thinking about this pussy.” All I got was a tortured groan in answer. I ran my tongue up and down a couple of times, and I could taste her wetness. “It’s so sweet. Can’t get enough.” I pressed my mouth to her clit, worrying it with my tongue, until I had her panting.

  She moved one hand to cup the back of my head. “More.” Her voice was tight with need, and it only made me want to work her up more. I ran the pads of my thumb along the inside of her pussy as I sucked on her. Her hips circling wantonly. “Ah, don’t stop, K.” There was nothing on earth that could make me.

  I flicked the hard tip of my tongue against her pussy and put my hands on her ass to push her tightly against my mouth. After a few moments I felt her lose her balance and heard a crash by my head.

  “Shit,” she said distractedly, as I redoubled my efforts, already feeling her legs start to tremble.

  “Is everything okay over there?” It took me a second to register it was one of the Beccas calling from their side of the wall.

  I was about to answer but Sully kept my head right at her cunt, a stern look on her face. When she spoke, it was barely a whisper. “You better finish what you started, Kiskeya Burgos.” I grinned as I went right back to work and she lifted her head in the direction the Beccas’ question came from. “We’re fine, just cleaning up.” The last word was more of shudder, as I hit a particularly sensitive spot.

  “I’m close, babe,” she said, as I lifted my eyes to her. She had her head thrown back, quiet moans escaping her lips. Within seconds, she was coming, her clit hardening with every flick of my tongue until she was spent. I pressed kisses to her mons and the inside of her thighs as her breath came back to normal.

  After a moment, I helped her get her clothes back in order and pushed up, so I could kiss her. She shook her head as we pulled apart. “It drives me a little crazy whenever I smell myself on your lips.”

  “You make me wild Sully Mor
ales.” I wasn’t sure if I was telling myself or her.

  She put her arms around my neck and went in for another kiss. “I’m feeling pretty wild myself, but I think we should get out of here, before we really get caught.”

  I laughed at the close call with the Beccas and helped her down from the counter.

  “Let’s go.”

  Only when we were back in our room, ensconced in the cocoon of our bed, did I get the niggling feeling we’d forgotten something back at the kitchen. But by then, nothing could’ve gotten me away from Sully’s warmth.

  Chapter 13

  Kiskeya

  At first, I couldn’t really tell what the Beccas were doing, since we were standing by the sidelines waiting for their thirty-minute advantage time to run out. But when Patricia went to ask what they were making Rehbecca with an H looked straight at me, a shit-eating grin on her face, and said in a very clear voice, “We’re making a snow globe.”

  I felt Sully stiffen next to me, but when we saw her pull out a sketch that looked eerily familiar to ours, I felt the blood in my veins go ice cold.

  I watched in horror as she explained to Patricia they were doing a Santa scene under a sugar dome to give the effect of a globe, I recalled what we’d gotten up to last night. We’d been in such a hurry to get out of the kitchen we’d left our notes behind. I knew I should’ve been more careful. That the Beccas were devious and had been quite possibly cheating all week. But once I was in the room, in bed with Sully, I’d forgotten the reason I was in Scotland in the first place.

  All week, I’d been relaxing my boundaries, letting go of my focus until I literally screwed myself over. All my career plans, even my chance to stay in the States, were tied to this win, and I had most likely blown it.

  My heart pounded with the realization that our entire plan was a bust. Because today, it was coming down to this final bake. We’d taken the second one with the soufflé, but we’d fucked up on the first challenge. So we were neck to neck, and now we were fucked.

  If we did the same design as the Beccas, we’d be the unoriginal ones. We’d be the ones who copied their idea. And it’s not like we could accuse them of ripping us off. What could we say? “They took my design last night, when I rushed out after doing my teammate in the practice kitchen.”

  “We need to do something else,” I whispered frantically to Sully who was still frozen in horrified realization, staring in the direction of the Beccas’ workstation.

  I glanced up at the clock, and I felt like I was going to throw up. We had twenty-five minutes to figure out a new plan, or we were doomed.

  Sully glanced at the clock too and turned slightly green. “We can’t just do something different, Kiskeya. There’s no time.” She was speaking so low that it was barely audible, but her annoyance at me came through loud and clear.

  “I’m not doing the same thing as them!” My voice went way higher than appropriate, so much so that Patricia came over to talk to us.

  “Are you ladies all right?” she asked, looking between us. I was having trouble keeping the panic in check and thankfully Sully spoke up first.

  “We just need to hammer out last-minute details.” If I hadn’t spent the last few days examining every single one of her smiles, I wouldn’t have been able to tell she was close to falling apart. “Can we take five?” she asked, her eyes back on the countdown clock.

  I was blown away at her ability to keep a calm demeanor. I was certain if I opened my mouth, I’d start screaming and never stop, or throw up and then burst into tears.

  Patricia could tell something was wrong and scanned the studio for a moment. The judges came and went during the challenges and were only there for the first and last bit. After considering the situation and taking another close look at the two of us, she leaned and whispered, “You can step into the second pantry, but make sure you’re back at least five minutes before you start. They’ll want to film as the clock winds down for you.” We both nodded and hurried to the small room where they stored extra supplies to replenish the pantry in the studio.

  As soon as we got in, I started pacing the tight space, while Sully looked on, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. An image of last night came to me, of how she’d laid on the bed smiling as I pressed kisses to her belly. But right now, the memory made me sick with guilt. “This is a nightmare. I knew I’d forgotten something last night,” I said through gritted teeth. “But I was so fucking...caught up in—”

  She did move then, stepped right in my way and looked up at me defiantly. “Don’t say it, Kiskeya. If you do, you can’t unsay it and you’ll regret it later.” I felt resentful that Sully, who always seemed to be all emotion, was calm now. Cool and collected when I felt like I was mentally flying apart.

  I almost laughed at the irony that in the moment of truth, I was the one losing control. “We will lose, Sully. Don’t you don’t get it? This is it.” I threw up my hands, as if she wasn’t understanding me. I opened my mouth and closed it, one time, then two, and finally I just said it.

  “This is my only chance at getting my work visa extended,” I said, choking on my own stupidity. “This was my long shot at actually staying in the States, and if I lose, I’m out of options.”

  “What?” She looked stricken, like I’d slapped her across the face. “You didn’t say anything. I knew you wanted to win, but I thought it was just, you know, a stepping stone and that it was great just to be here. That either way it would be okay.”

  “You always think everything’s going to be fine; it must be nice to be able to ignore reality,” I scoffed.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, tears brimming in her eyes, and I ruthlessly smothered the need to comfort her.

  “I just met you, Sully. This isn’t yours to fix,” I said, pressing a palm to my chest. “I am not your problem.”

  She flinched at my words; they hurt her, like I meant them to. “I would’ve been more helpful. Not distracting you.”

  I sighed, looking up at the metal ceiling. “I did school for a couple of years and had a student visa. I was able to work for another year, but my work visa is running out this spring. The apprenticeship would buy me another year. This is a fucking nightmare.”

  She shook her head, and I hated that I’d made her regret what we’d done, what we’d been to each other. Because no matter how scared I was right now, I couldn’t make myself be sorry for that. I should’ve told her that. Instead, I turned away from her. But when she could’ve lashed out, hurt me like I’d done to her, she stepped up.

  “We need to think fast, then. We have ten minutes. ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’ is the theme. We can still go with Santa in the Caribbean.”

  This all sounded fucking ridiculous, but I had to get it together. I nodded, and she kept talking. Taking notes on a pad she produced from somewhere in her apron. “We can still do the sleigh. The cake can be a present.”

  I made an affirmative noise as ideas ran through my head. “We can do a choux. Saffron with an orange blossom filling, with a honey craquelin.”

  “Yes. That’s good; that combination worked well last night. Macarons?” she asked, as she wrote more stuff down.

  “Sure, yeah those can be more gifts.”

  She looked up, her eyes clear and earnest, like I hadn’t cut her to the core. “I can make vanilla bean with a spiced rum filling.”

  “All right. I can make the sides of a sleigh with coconut nougatine,” I said, the image forming in my head, of a sleigh full of tropical treats.

  She dipped her head again, as she wrote more notes. “I’ll make the cake and macarons. You do the cream puffs and the reindeer from modeling clay? You’re better at that.” I felt my face heat at the compliment. I didn’t deserve her kindness.

  She looked at her watch and started moving toward the door. “We have three minutes. Let’s go.”

  “Sully.” I tried to touch her before we went back outside, but she shrugged me off.

  With a hand on the doo
rknob, she spoke without looking at me.

  “I don’t ignore reality, Kiskeya. I just choose to be grateful. And maybe that makes me stupid. It’s true that I could take my own dreams more seriously. I’m trying to. And yes, I got caught up in you in these past few days, perhaps more than I should have, but I don’t regret it. I wanted you, and it made me happy, so I let myself have that. I’ll never be sorry, even if you are.”

  “I never said I was sorry,” I protested, hearing the tears in her voice and I hated myself for causing them.

  “I will do everything I can to help us win.” And that was the last time she spoke to me like I wasn’t a stranger.

  The next three and a half hours passed in a blur.

  We toiled to the very last second. I made the choux, modeled perfect reindeer out of chocolate, complete with sunglasses for the Caribbean sun. Sully made a five-layer cake with a gorgeous coquito sponge that tasted like coconut cream, cinnamon, and nutmeg with a passion fruit curd filling that looked almost too good to eat.

  When Patricia called time and the judges exploded in applause from their table, we both stepped back in a daze. It was over, and in the end, we’d made something that was truly spectacular. When I turned to look at the Beccas, I could see the fury in their faces. We had out-baked them.

  Within minutes, the judges were asking us to bring our showcases forward. The Beccas went first. The judges pointed out that the idea was great, but seemed rushed. No shit. But that they’d delivered on the flavors. They didn’t look happy, and I felt too sick with worry about our own judging to gloat.

  When it was our turn, Sully and I hefted the heavy dessert up to the judges and stood side by side, waiting.

  Bobbie spoke first. “Santa in the Caribbean.” She grinned as she looked closer at the wayfarer-wearing reindeer. Just two, because I only had so much time. “This is incredible. The nougatine is really holding up.” She turned to us, pointing at the cream puffs. “Saffron and orange?”

  We both answered at once: “Yes.”