“Not unless you want one.” I slide my arm around her waist and begin steering her in the direction of the car.
“What does that mean?”
And as I begin listing all of the nightcaps at my condo, we wave at the man standing in the doorway wearing a black blazer, white shirt, gray slacks, in his signature glasses and black velvet smoking slippers.
Trina murmurs as we pass by, “Tonight’s a night I’ll never forget. Thank you for it.”
“You don’t have to thank me for a thing. It’s my pleasure.”
“What was it like growing up in New York for you?” I ask Trina as I refill her wine before gesturing for her to relax back against the couch we’re both sitting on. Her short jersey dress rides higher on her thigh when she does, causing my pulse to hammer in my veins.
The words that spill from her mouth make my heart ache. “Lonely. I lived among so many people here, yet everywhere I turned I was so alone. It made it hard to feel after a while, so I decided to escape.”
“You didn’t go far.”
“No. I was fortunate there was an excellent baking school not terribly far from here, distance-wise. I could hop on a train or two to be here in the event of an emergency, but for all intents and purposes, I was gone when I left the first time.”
“You were happy.” It isn’t a question, but an observation.
“I was until I wasn’t. Isn’t that the way with most things?” Her answer should satisfy me, but I want to know more.
I’m beginning to realize I want to know everything.
“Will you tell me?” I reach out and brush my fingers lightly over hers holding the glass. My fingers touch the coolness before encountering her warm skin. A shiver runs through us both.
And it hits me—I’m not just asking to know more about her, I’m asking for her trust because we can’t move forward without it.
She doesn’t say anything for a few moments, staring at the straw-colored liquid glowing in the low light. But when she does, it puts another layer on top of the complex woman in front of me. “I went to a fairly prestigious pastry school. Since I essentially raised myself, I learned quickly how to make a meal from next to nothing. I was intrigued by the idea of crafting something from unlimited resources.”
“Why baking and not cooking?” I ask. I’d asked her the question during an interview session, and she said she wasn’t ready. Now, I feel like before we move on, I need to know the answer.
“Because I never had dessert growing up. Never had a birthday cake.” Her reply tears a wound in my soul when I imagine a girl who looks like Annie being disappointed when year after year, something that should be celebrated was ignored. “Eating is fundamental for survival, but dessert is decadence. At that time, I was gluttonous about feeding that part of my soul.”
“And now? Now what are you hungry for?” I’m holding my breath as I wait for her answer.
“Who are you asking, Jonas? The chef or me?” Her eyes are direct on mine as she lifts her glass to her lips.
I can see the traces of the liquid clinging to her lips. I wish it was my mouth that had made them that way. Slowly, her tongue snakes out to capture the drop before it runs down her chin. I’m fighting the raging hard-on threatening to split the seam of my slacks. “Do you see me as the food critic or the man?”
I suck in a bated breath while I wait for her answer. Her lids lower, causing a stark contrast between the lightness of her eyes and the lush line of lashes. “I see you, Jonas. Just you. And every time I do, you make me feel something inside I don’t quite know how to explain.”
My lips curve. “Well, that’s another thing we have in common besides this ridiculous attraction.”
“What’s that?” Her voice is breathless as I slide forward and gently pluck the wine from her fingers before leaning over to place both of our glasses onto the coffee table.
“From the moment you laid into me, I’ve wanted nothing more than to do this,” I inform her as I gather her into my arms. I lower my lips to hers and press a soft kiss against them before drawing back.
“Hmm. That’s all?” Her words provoke me now in a different way than they did that first day.
All the signs have pointed to Trina wanting to be with me, but I won’t be the guy who presumes. I frame her face with my hands. “I want you. I want nothing more than to peel this excuse of a dress off your body and feast on what’s underneath, but I need to know that’s what you want too.”
“And if it isn’t?”
“Then I need to move away—right now—before I find out exactly how edible you are,” I tell her bluntly.
When nothing but a hissing sound escapes her lips, I lean forward and touch my lips to hers. “I’ll just get us some more wi—”
The word isn’t out of my mouth before Trina’s tackles me backward against the couch, her mouth voraciously devouring mine.
Chapter 17
Trina
Jonas’s arm immediately whips up to cradle me around my hips, pulling tighter against his erection. “Trina,” he manages to get out as I pepper his face with kisses.
My hair floats down in between us as I try to capture his mouth. A sound of frustration escapes as I yank it back with one hand. My hand encounters his just as he nips at my lips. “I believe that’s my job—the hair yanking, that is.” He gives a gentle tug, causing my womb to clench.
With both hands free, I slide them into the thickness of his dark waves, lifting his head up to meet mine for a heated exchange of lips and tongues. Our bodies align and move against one another. Each press, each touch causes one or the other to let out a soft sigh or moan.
Long moments pass where I feel like I’m drowning in the intensity of Jonas’s drugging kiss. I never knew it was possible to suffocate under my own senses where the smell of his cologne and the taste of wine would stop all air.
Feeling myself being lifted and shifted, I realize my back is pressed against the luxurious leather. I gasp when find myself caught in the storm of Jonas’s gaze. Even behind his glasses, the passion that’s been released is enough to incinerate us both.
As if he can read my thoughts, he reaches up and rips at one of the arms holding the glasses onto his head before carelessly tossing them onto the table. Lifting my hips into the cradle of his thighs, he lets out a curse. “Christ, what do you have on under this dress?”
My mind is so hazy from the feel of his erection pressed up against me through his dress slacks that I answer without thinking. “Not much.”
His chin drifts beneath my jaw, and he brushes his lips there before scraping his teeth down the column of my neck, which sends shudders through me. “Thank Christ.”
I push at his shoulders, trying to shove off his jacket with all my might. While I’m normally strong from hauling around two children and working in the kitchen, the energy in my limbs has left me. Maybe that’s because Jonas is tracing the edge of my dress at my collarbone with his tongue. “Ohh.” My nails dig into his shoulders. “More,” I moan.
Jonas pulls back slightly, and air seeps between us. I hiss a little as the coolness hits my exposed thighs which are clenched around his hips. My skin is so hot, it feels like it’s on fire.
“Jonas.” My voice comes out weak. “Don’t make me beg.”
His lips sweep upward as he quickly shucks his jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch. “Trina, sweetheart, I’m sorry to tell you, but by the time the night’s through, I might just make you.” His fingers make quick work of the buttons running along the front of his dark shirt. Ripping it from his body, he tosses it away before lowering his body back onto mine. “Now—” He slides his hands up to palm my breasts, causing me to arch away from the leather at my back. “—where were we?”
“I’m not quite sure.”
Jonas pulls my neckline down to discover I haven’t been wearing a bra. “I am,” he says thickly, lowering his head to my protruding nipple.
“I…oh, do that again,” I plead, as his tongue flick
s at the nipple rapidly before his lips surround the entire areola and he sucks. Hard. I cry out at the intensity of the pleasure-pain sensation from the lash of his tongue. The ache has me dripping from my core where my inconsequential G-string does little to stop the moisture from trickling. I lift my hips and squeeze to stop the ache, to silently ask for more.
“Yes,” he growls in response to my plea. Even as my nails scour down through the contours of his chest, over the light sprinkling of hair and scrape of his nipples, Jonas is running his hands over my body frantically. “Tell me how to get you out of this dress before I rip it off your body.”
“Zipper. Back.” I’m distracted by the way his muscles bunch and tense beneath my fingers. His shifting me upward to find my elusive zipper works to my advantage as it brings my lips closer to his chest, where I immediately circle his dusky nipple with my own lips.
“Fuck,” Jonas hisses. Distracted from his target, he presses my head against his chest while I take a sharp nip. He jerks back in surprise, eyes narrowing to slits.
Innocent as a kitten, I dart my tongue out and lick the tender spot. I pull back and pull my lower lip between my teeth. “Sorry.”
“Liar.” Standing, Jonas holds out his hand. “Come with me.”
Swinging my legs together, I put my hand in his. He leads me with confidence across the room, then pauses across the threshold to whisper a kiss across my lips. He pushes open the door to his bedroom, the hand at my lower back urging me in ahead of him.
A low lamp on the far side gives off enough light for me to get a glimpse of masculine warmth before I feel Jonas’s fingers at my back dragging the delicate zipper of my dress downward.
“Take it off,” he demands. The commanding tone send chills racing up and down my spine.
Stepping away, further into Jonas’s room, I pull the one sleeve off. The bodice and skirt naturally fall to the floor, leaving me clad in only my panties. I don’t know why, but I keep my back to him, curtained by my hair when I impishly reply, “Done.”
It’s so quiet I can hear the swoosh his pants makes as he moves toward me. At the last second, I spin around to face him, ready to issue my own challenges, my own demands.
Command and confidence falter in his expression when I face him to declare, “The man I want in that bed has made me feel more simply by being himself than any other person ever. I want you, Jonas.” His fingers trail over my bare shoulder, causing a moan to slip past my lips. His jaw clenches at the sound. I have to race to get the rest out. I need to know who’s with me, who I’m about to trust my body and heart to. “But I won’t be averse to a food pun slipping out.” I hold my ground when the haze of lust temporarily parts.
“You won’t, huh?” His lips quirk.
“No, because I wouldn’t be here if I really didn’t like that man.” I shudder as his warm hand pushes my hair away from my shoulder.
“God, you’re so beautiful.” His voice fractures as I stand there immobile under his perusal. I’m startled when a second later, he boosts me under the hips, forcing me to wrap my legs around him. “I’m really glad you like me, Trina.”
“Why’s that?” I ask breathlessly as he lays me back across his bed. Even as I embrace the softness at my back, I let out a mild yelp as the sound of fabric tearing penetrates. Within seconds, the wisp of lace I was wearing is being pulled from between my legs.
His chest rises and falls. “Because I’m me. I am likely going to slip up and drop a food pun while I’m feasting on you.” Just as he begins to pull away, I slap a hand on his stomach and score my nails down toward his belt to latch on with all my might.
He arches a brow. “Oh. Did you want something to snack on too? With the way you ate tonight, I would have thought you were full, but…”
I burst out laughing. Relaxing, I curl my knees upward just a little as I roll to my side. That feeling changes when Jonas takes a bite of my ass. I can’t stop the moan that bursts forth.
Flicking my hair out of the way, I catch sight of Jonas undoing his belt and lowering the zipper of his pants. Just that quick, just that fast, the heat in the room goes from a full boil to an overflow. I roll over to my back on his enormous bed and say one word.
“Yes.”
With a curse and prayer, Jonas quickly grabs one ankle and then another, jerking my sandals off. Yanking me toward the end of the bed, he parts my legs muttering, “Spread them. Don’t make me pull out the peanut butter jokes.”
“Gosh, golly, skippy. I wouldn’t want to…Jonas!” I scream his name as he swipes his tongue through my wetness, licking over and over through my parted folds. I reach down and hold his head in place as each flick of his tongue forces my body into a new paradox of pleasure I’ve never known.
My hips buck up and down, desperately trying to grind my clit against his lips when he decides to send me flying into the next stratosphere by thrusting two fingers inside of me, curling them forward, just as he closes his mouth over me.
I gasp, unable to catch my breath as cascades of light swirl behind my eyes when my orgasm hits. I’ve never experienced anything like this. It could be the city lights beyond the windows or it could be heaven with the way his wicked fingers are making miracles inside me.
“Shh, sweetheart.” Jonas kisses the inside of my thigh. He rubs his face along the sensitive skin of my thigh.
“I’ve…never before…” I try to form a sentence to explain I’ve never experienced anything like that, but by the way his face softens, I don’t have to.
He pushes to his feet, reaching behind him for his wallet. Condom, I think hazily. Right.
“I seem to have a voracious appetite for you.” Jonas’s voice is richer than the dessert we shared earlier. I squirm on the bed at the jingling noise giving me warning that soon his skin is going to be lying over mine.
“Jonas, please.” My head begins to thrash on the bed as his hands make quick work of the button and zipper of his slacks, and in one fell swoop, he shucks them, sparing but a second to rid himself of his socks and shoes. Opening my arms, I gasp at the sensation of the hair on his legs as they twine with mine. “God, I’m so glad I shaved,” I blurt out.
“Do you really think that’s why this is happening?” Jonas asks. Reaching just beyond my head, he makes quick work of the condom.
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly as he leans down to kiss me. I can taste the wild way I responded to him on his lips. It makes my legs squirm, causing him to pull back with a sexy twist to his lips.
“It’s because between the time you dared me to live your life and right now, you turned toward me. You trusted me. And I swear, I’ll do everything possible to keep doing that.” His erection nudges my entrance. “Do you believe me?”
“Yes. But Jonas—” My words halt him just as the tip of him is about to lodge inside of me. “I’m scared of this failing.”
“So am I, Trina. That’s what makes this even more beautiful.” And with that his cock slowly begins to enter me. I jerk as his head stretches me.
He braces his knees against the bed and an arm beneath me as he ducks his head down to suck on one nipple while twirling the other. He doesn’t rush his entry as he works his cock inside my pussy.
“Oh, my God.” I let out a slow moan when he’s fully seated.
“God, it’s like constant little ripples all up and down me.” Jonas leans down and takes my lip between his teeth. Pleasure, pain—I tremble. Pulling back a little before reseating himself, his hips begin a slow cadence I’m grateful for at first, and then I’m demanding an increase by using my nails, my teeth, my lips.
Anything.
“Wrap me up tight,” he pants next to my ear. Immediately, I wrap one leg high on his back, the other low across his hips. “Just like that, yeah. Come on.” Bracing himself on both arms, his hips pick up speed, his strokes hard and deep.
I’m being flung through a pleasure I’ve never experienced. “Nothing…” I can’t even tell him. It’s never been like this. Everythi
ng blurs behind my eyes—the smell of our bodies, the taste of his skin, the ache that’s waiting to make the orgasm from before a distant memory.
And soon, it is. Jonas drops his head and murmurs next to my ear, “Give me s’more, sweetheart,” just before he reaches down and puts slight pressure against where our bodies are joined.
It’s too much. With a small scream, I arch off the bed, calling his name as I orgasm for the second time in that many years. I hear Jonas cry my name hoarsely in my ear as he pumps his hips a few more times before he collapses on top of me.
Lassitude is stealing over me when I feel him brush my hair away from my face, whispering, “I really like you a latte.”
Then there’s nothing but sweet darkness.
Chapter 18
Jonas
“Where are you going?” I growl.
Grabbing Trina around the waist, I pull her back down to my bed. She only managed to slip on my shirt, so there’s barely anything between us. “Did the phone ring? Did Elle call about the kids?”
Wordlessly, she shakes her head.
My heart thumping against my ribs, I reach up and rub my thumb against the apple of her cheek. “Then what is it, T? Where were you going?”
“I just needed a moment.”
“Away from me?” I can’t prevent the break in my voice. Even though we’ve been in each other’s pockets for the last few weeks, and the sex last night pushed me closer to saying words I’ve never said to another woman, it’s way too soon for declarations—no matter what my heart might be urging me to do.
“I—” She abruptly stops.
“Talk to me,” I encourage her.
“I didn’t want you to be disappointed,” she blurts out.
“What?” My arms tighten as her eyes go diamond bright.
Her hands flit between us until they land on my chest. I shudder a bit as her nails rake through the thatch of hair. Trina’s not meaning to arouse me. Then again, I think ruefully, she does that by breathing anywhere in my proximity.
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