At least his mother had the decency to look flustered. “It was a rough night.”
No kidding. Not all of their family gatherings ended with one of their children tied to an appliance, but when they did, it was because Babushka was stirring up shit.
He chanced a glance across the street, but they’d all gone inside.
“Mom, Heather does seem really nice,” Anna tried. At least one of them was coming around to his side. “And Jase seems happy. We should fix this. Make sure she knows she’s always welcome at the house.”
“She’s at her shop. I’ll walk over with you. Elizabeth?” Jase hollered over his shoulder. “I’m running out for a bit.”
He led his reluctant parents and sister to the front of Heather’s shop.
Anna laid a hand on his shoulder. “Jase, we really want you to be happy. That’s what all of this is about.”
“Then lay off and just let things be.” He pulled open the door and gave a wave to the cashier. He’d been around enough lately, she didn’t even question him going straight to the back.
Heather glanced up and her smile lit her whole face. It wasn’t lost on him that she was smiling like that for him. His mother, father, and Anna followed behind. Heather’s smile disintegrated.
It was apparently cockie day at the shop because she had trays and trays of them on the table in front of her. All the blood in his body dropped to his toes. He sucked in a breath.
Babushka and her comrades were decorating cockies.
“Jase, you brought your parents. And your sister. To my kitchen.” Heather stared daggers at him.
Some of the cockies were even decorated like policemen and firemen and…no. No more looking, because what he saw his mother saw. And his mother was not going to be okay with the penis-shaped firemen cockies on Heather’s tray. Although, he had to give it to Heather, the way she did that helmet was very creative.
He tilted his head. Yeah, he never would’ve thought to do it that way.
“We’re supposed to be making flower cookies for prom,” Heather said, unmoving. “But I have orders…and they were more excited about these.”
“Ve need to vork on the foreskins.” Babushka emerged from behind a rack of trays. “They look better in the bouquets.”
“What on earth?” His mother stared at the trays of cookies.
“They insisted,” Heather said, her face pale. “Babushka’s idea.”
Of course it was.
One of the elderly women icing veins onto her cockie glanced to his mother. “The thick ones are easier to handle. Go for those.”
“She means the cookie,” Heather said quickly. “They don’t break as easily.”
His father said nothing, his mouth simply opened and closed with no sound emerging. That was a first.
“They came to apologize for the other night.” He scrubbed a hand at his neck. “I didn’t realize it was bachelorette party day.”
Anna didn’t say anything, she just stood there, eyes wide. “Why are they decorated like policemen?”
“It’s a new thing I’m trying. So far customers love the unique icing.” Heather started strong with her enthusiasm, but she lost all her steam there at the end. Probably because his mother’s expression was equal parts horror and anger.
“This isn’t all I make,” Heather said quickly. “I mean, obviously, because I brought you the flower ones. We do all shapes. For weddings. Kids’ birthday parties. And different flavors. Lemon, chocolate chip, snickerdoodle. But these pay a lot of the bills. And they’re just for fun—”
“Vould you like to try one?” Babushka held up one that…yes, it was a foreskin penis. “They are delicious.”
And that’s the story of how his grandmother bit off the tip of a dick cookie in front of his mother.
Heather gasped. His father paled. Anna’s jaw dipped further, her mouth the shape of an O. His mother didn’t seem to be breathing.
And Jase? Well. There’s that moment one realizes they are utterly and truly fucked between their mother’s wish for them to be happy and the girlfriend who could not catch a break. This was that moment.
His girlfriend made policemen penis cookies. How was he going to get his mother past that? “It’s like I love your brain,” Jase said to Heather. “And then I don’t understand it at all.”
She shook her head at him, her eyes squinted in the most adorable what-the-fuck look he’d ever seen. Okay, perhaps he should’ve kept his trap shut.
“Mom, you totally have to apologize to Heather now.” Anna linked arms with his mother and pushed her forward. “Because when we get together for Thanksgiving this year, it’s going to be epic.”
Thanksgiving was the furthest thing from his mind. Turkey-shaped cookies, and Babushka, and her two boyfriends. It’d be a Russian-flavored Griswold celebration. He glanced to his mother. If he wasn’t mistaken, she still hadn’t taken a breath.
“Mom.” Anna tapped her on the back.
His mother gulped. She closed her eyes. Counted to five in Russian. Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and left the kitchen. His father followed without saying a word.
“Shit,” Jase said. He didn’t even say it under his breath. There was no need.
Heather stayed in place, piping bag in hand, staring at the space his mother had vacated.
“Vat?” Babushka asked, a little penis crumb falling to the floor.
Yes, he’d been well and truly fucked by a penis-shaped sugar cookie dressed like a policeman.
“Well, I don’t know what it takes to get involved in this, but I definitely want to participate.” Anna sidled up next to the woman in the scooter and grabbed a cookie.
23
Chapter Twenty-Three
By the time Heather slogged up the stairs to her apartment, it was already eight o’clock at night, and if she had to look at another sugar cookie, she might stab her eyes out. Apparently, every bachelorette party in eastern Colorado was that week. She’d spent the entire day icing dicks. And freaking out Jase’s family. He assured her they’d come around, they just needed time. But given the look on his mother’s face, Heather was pretty sure time wasn’t going to fix what was broken.
After his mother walked out, Anna had stuck around and chatted. Turned out Anna was pretty fun. Also, she had a flair for using the flood icing and an inventive idea for prickly peckers decorated like a cactus.
Needless to say, it’d been a long day, and all Heather wanted was a bowl of Cheerios, a shower, The Price is Right on repeat, and bed.
And Jase, she wanted Jase.
But Jase was busy with his renovations, and she was too spent to even walk across the street to hang out with him.
She stuck her key in the keyhole, but it was already unlocked. She pushed open the door.
“Candy?” she called. Candy was the only one with a key. Well, Babushka had one, too. But Babushka was tucked away with Harry at the retirement home for the night.
“Hey.” Jase was lounging on the couch, some book—it looked like the retirement home’s June book club pick—in his hands. He knifed off the sofa and dropped the novel on the coffee table. “I wanted to surprise you. Didn’t realize you’d have to work so late.”
“How’d you get in?” she asked, hanging her purse on the hook.
“Babushka lent me her key. I hope that’s okay.” His hands fell to his hips. He hadn’t changed after work—same The Flower Pot tee and pair of jeans he’d been wearing earlier.
She dropped her keys in the bowl by the door. “It’s always all right.”
Were they at the key-swap stage of their relationship? She should ask. See if he wanted to.
“Long day?” he asked. As though he hadn’t been there when his mom and sister had shown up in her kitchen.
She ran a hand over her forehead, probably making her bangs stick straight up. She did her best to fluff them. “If I see another penis today, I’ll lose my mind.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound pro
mising for our night. I brought you dinner.” He did his chin-jerk thing to her table.
If she wasn’t into the man before, the fact that he’d brought her a chicken bake did her in. He could totally have a key.
“Don’t worry, Eli made it. I wouldn’t subject you to my cooking,” he continued.
“I’m glad you’re here.” She kicked off her shoes and walked straight to him.
His arms encircled her and the crazy of the day drifted away.
“You look spent.” He brushed a kiss at the crown of her head.
She glanced up at him. “You have no idea.”
He scooped her up in his arms and started toward the bedroom. “Jase, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to get you a bath started. I’ll bring you dinner, and then put you to bed,” he said with military-like precision.
Okay, that sounded pretty good. Arms around his neck, she relaxed against him.
He pushed open the door, and she saw that the whole room was filled with candles and the pink and white roses he’d been bringing her. He called them carrousel something. She sucked in a breath. There were vases and vases of the roses, and rose petals were scattered all over her bedspread. Her heart skipped. Then she realized they spelled out something, and she looked closer.
Prom?
She couldn’t hold back the giggle. “Are you asking me to prom?”
“I am.” He set her feet down and held her hands in his. “Heather Reese, will you go to prom with me?”
“Did Babushka know you were doing this? Is that why she gave you the key?”
“I have to have some secrets, don’t I?”
She pressed the back of her hand against her lips. “I can’t believe you left a massacre of flowers in my bedroom.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” he said on a growl.
“Of course I’ll be your date, you loony tune.” She pressed a kiss against his lips.
“Okay, good. Because otherwise it’d be really awkward.” He pecked a kiss on her nose. “Now, bath for you.”
He started toward her bathroom. Deep breaths, Heather. She took in the room: he’d also added a bottle of champagne and two champagne glasses to her nightstand. Funny, when she’d come up from work, she’d been exhausted. Now? Now, she was exhilarated.
He’d asked her to prom. And his promposal was fantastic.
She did a twirl that would’ve made teenage Heather proud.
The bathtub faucet turned on behind the closed door. And now he was filling a tub for her? She practically had to pinch herself.
She followed him, latching the door behind her. He was on his knees filling her soaker bathtub. He’d lit her candles in there, too. The whole place smelled like jasmine.
Hands at her sides, she moved to him and ran her palms over his back. “This is really amazing, Jase.”
He grinned up at her and something shifted in his eyes. It was almost unnoticeable, but she seemed to be so tuned into him lately, even the smallest change affected her.
She pulled her polo work shirt over her head and tugged the band from her hair, finger-combing it. He hadn’t stopped looking at her. She undid the clasp on her bra and let it fall to the ground. As the bra hit the bath mat, his pupils dilated in anticipation of what would come next.
She continued her striptease, unzipping her jeans and pulling them over her hips, down her thighs, past her calves, and kicking them away. He continued to drink her in. The bathtub continued filling, but she wasn’t done. She pulled her panties down, pushing them aside with her toe, so she was completely bare in front of him.
His nostrils flared, but still he didn’t say anything. A step into the bath and she tested the water—of course it was perfect. She slid beneath the water and glanced at him. He still hadn’t moved. Hadn’t said anything.
“Aren’t you coming?” she asked.
“I should ask you to prom every night.” He pulled his shirt over his head and made quick work of removing his jeans and boxers.
“Front or back?” she asked as he stepped into her soaker tub.
“Can’t go down on you from the back.” He knelt between her legs, pulling them around his hips.
“We’re in a bathtub, pretty sure you’ll drown if you try.” She sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, then traced a fingertip along the anchor tattoo on his arm.
“I do believe you just dared me.” He grinned against her mouth and started kissing his way down the column of her neck. “I used to defuse bombs underwater. The difference was I didn’t want them to go off when I was done.”
Oh.
He continued kissing down her chest, over her nipples, and just as he got to the waterline, he took a deep breath, and, holy shit, he was actually going to go down on her underwater in a bathtub. He gripped her hips, positioned her under his mouth, and…he was doing an amazing job. How was he able to do that with his tongue and no oxygen? Well, she’d never know.
Back pressed against the tub, she ran a hand over her breasts and down to his shoulders, ready to pull him up from the water. He released his grip on her hips only long enough to pull her hands from where she was tugging him up by his shoulders.
Okay, so he wasn’t wanting to be done yet. That was fine. She could keep doing this. Really, if he could hold his breath this long, she’d just appreciate it for the feat it was. Everyone had their skill set, and if this was his, she was a very, very lucky woman.
He licked and sucked and then he released her hips to get his hand in on the action. Breathing hard, she wrapped her ankles around his back, careful not to press down. But he was Jase, and he did what he wanted when he wanted. If he wanted to come up for air, there was nothing she would be able to do to prevent that.
At the moment, he apparently didn’t require oxygen because he was doing things with his mouth and tongue that she’d only read about in books.
He pulled away from her, emerged from the water, grinned, took a deep breath, and without a word, he disappeared under the water again.
This was such a better way to unwind than watching Jeopardy. All those months she’d decided to go off men, apparently, she’d just not picked the right one.
The coil inside her began to tense, and she relaxed against his mouth, ready to let him take her over the edge. And he was really giving it his all as he kissed and licked and, really, how did he do that thing with his finger? He pressed her sweet spot with his thumb—at exactly the right place. She moaned as the orgasm took over, her head falling against the side of the bathtub.
Best. Promposal. Ever.
She was still coming when he finally came up for air.
He pressed a kiss against her mouth.
She toyed with the close-cropped hair at the base of his neck. “The last time a guy asked me to prom, all I got was a dozen roses.” And a night alone when prom came.
Jase was kissing her neck—the sensitive skin right under her ear. She pressed her palms against his hips, moving them to his…yup, he was hard as a rock. Reaching around him, she snagged a bottle of bath oil and poured it into her palm.
He watched her, his eyes heavy-lidded while she got to her knees, her hand between them gripping his dick, rubbing up and down the length of him. So maybe she could deal with one more dick that day. If she could hold her breath longer than twenty seconds, then, yeah, maybe she would’ve tried the underwater thing. As it was, they’d have to go with her hand.
He gripped her hair, tipping her face up to him, leaning down to kiss her while she continued working his shaft. He urged her on with his tongue. She moved her hand faster, splashing against the water until he finished—both of them breathing hard, his mouth still pressed to hers.
He closed his eyes. She released him. He shifted behind her, settling her on his lap in the water. Using her toe, she turned on the hot water knob to heat it up again. The water trickled, and he held her against his chest, and everything felt right.
“Are you going to stick around and watch game shows wi
th me?” she asked.
He scooped water up and over her chest, trailing his fingertips along her skin. “I don’t do TV.”
She settled more firmly against him, her back to his chest. “I don’t do roses, but that seems to be changing.”
“Really, TV’s not my thing. But you can watch.” He was totally snuggling her in the bathtub.
She relaxed against him, linking her fingers with his.
He cleared his throat. “TV gives me flashbacks.”
She stilled. What the hell had happened to him over there, anyway? He continued toying with her fingers, as though he hadn’t just cracked the shell on taking their relationship deeper. Sharing things like this.
She pulled his hands in hers and squeezed. “We don’t need to watch, then. We can just hang out.”
“I want to watch with you.” His voice had gone husky in a way she hadn’t heard before. “But the way the lights on the TV flash and the way they cut the commercials—I don’t sleep after.”
“Okay, you don’t need to.” She held his hand tight, unsure what the right thing to say or do was. No way would she push him on this. And she didn’t know how to tell him how much it meant to her that he’d shared.
The silence wrapped them both. The only sound was the trickle of hot water coming from the faucet.
“You like games, though. We can do board games,” he said finally.
Did she even have any board games? They could buy some. She’d do that tomorrow. First thing. “That wouldn’t really be fair. I mean, I’d win all the time.”
She turned off the faucet with her toe, and the silence was back. Not an awkward silence, just the quiet of two people together.
“Thank you,” he said softly against her ear.
“For what?”
“For not pushing.”
Well, given what she’d seen of his family, she’d bet he wasn’t used to someone choosing not to push him. “I like you, Jase. If something bothers you, we don’t have to do it.”
He squeezed her closer. “I like you, too, Heather Reese.”
She turned on his lap so they were face-to-face, readjusting herself so her knees were on either side of him, her core pressed against him. And, dammit all, if he wasn’t ready for round two.
Just the Tip of the Iceberg: Mile High Matched Books 1-3 Page 44