Page 12 of Icing on the Cake

Beau

“Is your fridge always that empty?” I loosen my grip on Eisley so she can maneuver the tray but keep my hands on her body. I can’t help myself. She feels right, as if she’s the missing piece of a puzzle my body’s craved for most of my adult life.

“Pretty much.” She fits the containers on the shelves like a Tetris master. “I don’t have room for a second fridge to keep cakes chilled and fresh, so I’ve learned to keep bare essentials to a minimum.”

A twinge of guilt pinches my gut. I’ve been spoiled all these years working at the restaurant, taking for granted the opportunities I’ve been afforded. I work hard for what I have, but I couldn’t have gotten this far without the help of my parents and the small trust my grandparents set aside for me.

“Do you want to open your own bakery someday, Eisley?” She straightens and I step back so she can close the door. “Is that what most food-based home businesses aspire to do?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Her mouth twists into a little knot as she brushes her hands on her apron. “I couldn’t say what others want for their business. I love to bake and make people happy. Working at home gives me flexibility without the overhead of a brick-and-mortar shop. I’d guess that part’s the same for a lot of people like me.”

I appreciate her candor and can attest to the fact owning a restaurant does have its drawbacks. The overhead is high, profit margins are low, and managing front and back of the house staff takes away from my time in the kitchen.

I store the information for later. Right now, I’d rather focus on Eisley and the easy connection we have.

Working in Eisley’s cozy kitchen fills me with an energy I haven’t felt for a while. My eyes linger on her as she moves gracefully around the kitchen, skirting around me with unwavering focus. I’m captivated by her passion and dedication. How would her life be altered if she didn’t have her business, something she obviously loves?

“Last batch.” Eisley stores the tray of chilled cupcakes in the freezer refrigerator. The restaurant’s bakery supply wouldn’t last an hour if we had to depend on a small residential fridge for our goods. We always have a ready supply of miscellaneous baked goods for last-minute orders. “What do you think? Did I pass the test?

She swipes a finger across the edge of the piping bag. Gooey frosting sticks to her finger, and an overwhelming urge to lick frosting from her body plays wild tricks on my sex drive.

“With flying colors.” I take her hand in mine and guide her fingertip to my lips. Her eyes darken as the corners of her mouth tip upward into a playful grin. Her irises dilate and the green and gold flecks slowly disappear as I suck the frosting from her finger. She’s the tastiest treat a man could want, but I’m greedy and need more of her sugary sweetness.

The tip of her tongue flicks across her lower lip. I lean in, and our lips collide hard and fast, igniting the simmering embers lingering in my gut. Time stands still as I lose myself in the essence of her–the way she feels, tastes, smells. Any tension remaining in my body falls away, and I surrender to the passion brewing between us.

My heart pounds as I wrap her tighter in my arms, pulling her closer, never wanting to let her go. Nothing else in the world matters but the intoxicating sensation of being with Eisley.

She pulls away from the kiss, her lips bruised and her cheeks flushed with desire. I’m breathless, my lungs cramped, and my chest sore from the ache that’s settled there for far too long. I’ll give my whole heart and soul to exploring what’s next with Eisley and vow never to let anything or anyone come between us.

CHAPTER 9

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Eisley

Enticement draws me in, causing me to crave more than Beau’s kiss. He cradles my head in the palm of his hand, and I lean into it as heaviness settles low in my gut. My breath hitches as the kiss deepens. The rapid beating of my heart echoes inside my head, spurring my desire to a near-frantic pace.

Beau pulls away from the kiss as breathless and turned on as I am. I take his hand and lead him away from the kitchen and down the hallway to my bedroom without a word. The rhythm of soft jazz continues playing softly in the background, a seductive playlist to what I hope is our impending lovemaking.

Our lips meet in whispered softness as Beau lowers me to the bed. His tongue parts my lips furtively, tasting and teasing until our movements become one. I lose myself in his touch, imprinting on my brain everything about the way he moves, the way he smells, and the way he tastes.

He stretches across me, still fully clothed, yet I soak in every hardened ridge of his body as he presses against mine. He glides his hand down my neck to my breast. I arch into him, wanting his bare skin on mine. His fingers slide lower to my waist. I inhale sharply when his fingers swipe across my bare tummy.

Beau lifts to his knees and straddles my hips. He crosses his arms and yanks his shirt overhead while I get an eyeful of the stiff bulge tenting his pants. I lick my lips, unable to resist and reach for his waistband. I flick the button open, then draw the zipper downward. Steam wafts off him in waves, his arousal filling my lungs with sweet heat.

I draw a finger along his stiffened cock, teasing him through his boxers. His hooded eyes grow darker as he twitches at my touch. I peel back the denim and slide my fingers into his waistband. I slide his pants and boxers to his thighs, releasing his thick, beautiful cock. My mouth waters with want, and suddenly, I need to taste him more than I need my own relief.

He strokes himself with a long, firm jerk. A glistening drop of arousal slicks across his crown, and I lick my lips. I rise to my elbows and open my mouth, begging for a taste. Beau’s nostrils flare as he puffs his chest. He guides the thickened head to my mouth and smears my lips with the slick tip. My tongue darts out, and he groans when I lick the tip.

“Eis, you’re killing me, babe.” His hips thrust forward, and I ready myself for another taste.

“You’re way better than frosting,” I giggle when I taste him again.

Fire burns in his stare as he fists himself, pumping until his flesh is swollen and taut. I open my mouth, daring him to give himself to me. He obliges, thrusting his hips forward as he cradles my neck. He guides his cock into my mouth, and I swirl my tongue around the crown before sucking him in deeper.

“Fuck.” He groans as I swallow him.

He rocks into my mouth with long strokes as I savor and suck. My panties dampen as moisture flows freely to my core and arousal consumes me. His breath grows ragged, and when I think he’s about to come, he slips free of my grasp. Disappointment seeps into my heart, but when I get a look at my handiwork and the thrumming vein running along his hardened length, a fresh wave of invigorating desire pools in my sex.

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