Page 54 of The Gingerbread Bakery
‘What's the matter?’ she asked, her breath still coming in short spurts. Had she done something wrong? Judging by the erection pressed against her belly she’d assumed she was doing okay but, again, she was out of her element. A few hurried orgasms alone in her shower with one or two siblings banging on the door hadn’t exactly made her an expert.
Mac squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them like he was trying to get his bearings. He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, brushing his knuckles along her cheek. ‘Nothing’s the matter. I just thought maybe now would be a good time to make some cookies.’
Annie blinked. Had all the kissing given her some sort of brain injury? ‘You want to make cookies?’
Mac swallowed hard, clearly still trying to regroup. ‘Yeah, I thought you could teach me how to make those little gingerbread men.’
‘Right now?’ Annie didn’t understand what was happening. Her thoughts were still filled withwantandneedandMac.
‘Yeah.’
‘You want to stop what we’re doing and go make cookies?’
Mac nodded, his hair crackling with static against the pillow. ‘I thought it might be a good time for a break.’
‘Oh,’ Annie cringed at the sound of disappointment in her own voice. He wanted to stop.
‘If we don’t take a break now,’ he said, pressing his forehead to hers, his fingers still playing in her hair. ‘Then we might make decisions we’ll regret, and I really don't want to do anything that you'll regret, Annie.’
The reality of the last few minutes slowly started to seep into Annie's kiss-addled brain. In the heat of the moment, she had definitely been on the edge of making decisions she wasn’t sure she would make when Mac’s tongue was not in her mouth.
‘Right, good idea,’ she said, still marveling at his restraint. She had been about two rolls of his hips against her from giving it all up and maybe she still wanted to. But Mac was right. She didn’t want to do anything she would regret later. Sure, she fully believed that virginity was only a social construct, but her first time was still herfirst time. It was still a big deal.
‘But for the record,’ he said. ‘I don’t regret any of that.’
Annie smiled. ‘Me neither.’
Mac pressed one more kiss to her lips before rolling over and staring at the ceiling. ‘I’m going to need a minute or two to think about baseball, or that time I reached into my cereal box and pulled out a dead mouse.’
‘Ew, God.’
‘I know, very traumatic. But it works. You can feel free to head up to the kitchen and rummage around for ingredients. My mom’s on the night shift tonight, and Dad’s at the pub so we’ll have the kitchen to ourselves.’
Annie didn’t think thinking about baseball would do much to help her and she certainly wasn’t going to think about dead mice in her cereal, but a few minutes away from Mac would probably be a good idea. She hurried upstairs leaving him on his bed with an arm draped over his eyes. The bottom of his T-shirt had ridden up just enough to give her a glimpse of tan stomach before she left. That definitely didn’t help.
Alone in Mac's kitchen, she took some deep breaths, pressing the back of her hand to her cheek. She was still burning hot. What had that boy done to her? Whatever it was, she didn’t hate it.
But she needed to calm down. It was time to bake cookies, not tackle Mac onto his kitchen floor. She took the opportunity to snoop around the kitchen a bit. It was a decent size with honey-colored cabinets from the nineties just like her parents had before they’d finally redone it last year. Plenty of counter space with a table tucked in the corner where she and Mac had had breakfast a couple of weeks ago. From the window over the sink, Annie could look out at the driveway and the neighbor’s house. To her surprise, she found Mr. Prescott, the mailman, at his sink waving to her. She had the bizarre impulse to duck down, like she needed to hide this visit to Mac’s house, but it was probably safe for the mailman to know. She gave him a little wave back before stepping away from the window, making a note to herself that if she was going to jump Mac’s bones, she probably shouldn't do it there.
The old linoleum creaked under her feet as she opened a few cabinets trying to figure out where the baking supplies were kept. Instead, she found a cupboard full of souvenir mugs and an alarming amount of potato chips in every flavor imaginable.
‘Big chip fan?’ she asked, hearing Mac’s footsteps behind her.
He chuckled. ‘No, but my mom is. It’s her only vice. She gets home from a long shift and can devour an entire bag of those things by herself.’
‘Wow, that's impressive for such a tiny lady.’
‘She really packs them away.’
‘Your mom’s a nurse, right?’
‘Yep. NICU nurse. She basically saves little babies.’ The pride on Mac’s face when he talked about his mom was too adorable to face head-on, so Annie continued browsing his cupboards.
‘Where do you guys keep the baking supplies?’ she asked.
‘That's an excellent question, Annie, and one that I feel I should have the answer to. However…’
‘It's your own house, Mac. How do you not know where the baking supplies are?’
