Page 13 of Icing on the Cake

Beau slides off the bed and throws his pants to the floor. He reaches for my waistband and yanks my pants and panties to my ankles. I kick them off and widen my legs as he climbs over me. My sex flutters and tightens, swelling with desire as he sinks between my legs.

“You’re fucking amazing.” He holds my gaze as he strokes my hair. “I’ll fuck that pouty little mouth of yours later. I need your tight pussy now.”

“Look who the dirty talker is now.” I giggle again as I grab his ass, drawing him closer to my core.

With a single thrust, he pushes past my barrier, filling me with his thickness. That one stroke pierces my heart and makes me feel whole, proving there’s hope for love and second chances.

***

Beau

Eisley claws my ass as I glide into her, hard and fast. She cocoons my cock in fiery, silky heat, even hotter than her sexy little mouth. The weeks I’ve spent fantasizing about this moment are nothing compared to the real thing. She’s a little hellcat, ready and willing to take what she needs.

I move over her, thrusting slowly, savoring the grip she has on my cock. I use every trick in my arsenal to hold back my release until she gets her own. She swivels her hips, and I grit my teeth, sweating like a mother fucking teenager his first time out of the gate. My cock twitches and pulses, but I hold back, soaking in Eisley’s contorted smile, the way her breath hitches, and her tiny hiccuped moans.

My heart pounds as it swells bigger and fuller with emotion. Eisley reaches something deep inside me that I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel. A sense of purpose outside of myself takes root, and I want to guard and protect her, love her, and bring her pleasure. She’s who and what my life’s been missing.

She arches again as I thrust inside her. My balls tighten as her walls contract around me. She pulls in a sharp breath and tightens her grip on my ass. Her walls constrict and pulse as she comes hard against my throbbing cock. I thrust again, this time losing control. My body hums and vibrates as the orgasm rocks my body. My arms shake, and I collapse onto her chest as she strokes my back and fingers the hair at the nape of my neck.

Her heart thunders against my chest, our bodies sync to a private, indulgent rhythm. It’ll take a lifetime to explore her body, mind, and soul, and I’m already counting the ways to do so.

We spend the evening and wee hours of the morning going through the physical motions while cementing our emotional bond. We chat, nosh, and make love on repeat.

Eisley tells me about her stint in culinary school and her love of buttery, flaky croissants. She channeled her energy into her bakery business after having her heart broken. The bastard’s loss is my gain. She feard becoming jaded and disillusioned with love, so she focused her business on weddings, babies, and birthdays. Bringing joy to others with her creations kept her hope alive that she’d find love and happiness one day, too.

I tell her about spending countless summers cooking with my nana and deciding to open the Bakehouse because of her. Nana showed me, through example, the power of food. A meal can mend fences and heal even the most stubborn hearts.

By morning, I’m beyond smitten. Eisley isn’t a crush or a fling. She’s the real deal. The one meant for me. The clock is ticking on the one issue we disagree on. If we put our heads and hearts together, it’ll strengthen our bond rather than divide us.

But can either of us bend and sacrifice our values?

CHAPTER 10

***

Eisley

I ease down on the brake when the light ahead turns yellow. I glance in the rearview mirror as I slow to a stop, making sure the boxes filled with decorated tiers of cake haven’t shifted. Transporting decorated cakes makes me nervous and perhaps a bit over-cautious, but with time constraints, I didn’t have a choice but to decorate and box each layer ahead of time. The venue for tomorrow morning’s wedding has a walk-in fridge to store the cakes so I can stack them quickly in the morning. Since it’s a morning wedding, I’ll be finished in plenty of time to spend the evening with Beau.

Beau and I have been inseparable for the last couple of weeks. I hoped to change his mind about the licensing issue, but we’re still hashing out ways to compromise. He still isn’t completely convinced everyone is as meticulous as I am in the kitchen. But we both agree on something–we love spending time together. That includes in the kitchen and the bedroom. If I were a conniving person, I’d bribe him the old-fashioned way–with S.E.X. But who am I kidding? I can’t get enough of the man, and using my feminine wiles as a tool or weapon is just wrong in my book.

We don’t have to agree on everything to get along and respect each other. But I still think there’s room for both of us to compromise. I want everyone to have an opportunity to follow their dreams, but there will always be someone out there who’s just trying to make a fast buck and game the system. And I do want the food supply chain to be safe for everyone who puts their trust in small home bakers.

Luckily, business has picked up in the few weeks since the Town Hall meeting. I think the issue has raised community awareness, and more people are rallying to support local, small businesses. That’s the idealist in me. The uptick in business could be due to end-of-school parties, an unprecedented number of weddings and baby showers, or maybe Lady Luck is shining her light on me. Whatever it is, I’ll take it.

I’ve sure lucked out in the love department with Beau, though neither of us has said the “love” word aloud. It feels too soon for that, and I don’t want to jinx what we have. What we’re experiencing can’t be real, deep down, true love, could it? Love doesn’t happen that fast for anyone, does it?

The light turns green, and I accelerate into the intersection with one eye on the road and one in the rearview. Horns blast and the high-pitched screech of slamming brakes send my flight or fight hormones into action. I turn my head in time to see a metal bumper and hood crumple against the passenger side door. My body lurches as I slam the brake pedal to the floor. The impact derails my equilibrium and sends my car careening across the intersection. Seconds spin into an eternity as I slide, unable to stop until a light pole halts the car’s momentum.

I sit in shock with my hands glued to the steering wheel. My pulse races as I choke down one jagged breath after another. Knuckles wrap at my window as someone tries to open the locked door. I’m frozen for a moment, still in shock from the impact.

“Ma’am, you okay? Can you move?” I turn my head toward the voice. A man’s head peeks into the broken back passenger-side window. “If you can unlock that door, we’ll get you out of here.”

I nod and glance past the man to the back hatch covered in frosting, cake crumbs, and crumpled boxes. My fingers tremble, and my heart sinks to my stomach.

Strangers help me from the car and give their accounting of the accident to police. A car ran the red and plowed into the side of my car. Luckily, they hit the passenger side, clipping the back of the car. Otherwise, the accident could have been worse.

As soon as the paramedics finish looking me over, I call Beau. Each ring feels like an eternity. My mind floods with worry and desperation as I wait for him to pick up. As soon as he does, my throat tightens and a floodgate of tears streams down my cheeks in relief.

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