Page 57 of A Taste of Trouble

Where is your head? He had her brain hemorrhaging all sense of responsibility.

Liv found the condom then straddled him, ripping open the wrapper with a grin. “Is it a coincidence that you have a condom in your wallet?”

“When spending time with you, it's always best to be prepared.” He gripped her hips.

He ensured the latex was fastened appropriately while she moved aside her thong. He guided her down, taking her inch by slow inch. When she was flush against his pelvis, she grasped his shoulders and found her rhythm.

He grabbed her ass, squeezing tight her flesh with his strong grip. Her hips swiveled, the friction too much, yet not enough. As if sensing she needed more, Jake slipped his thumb over her clit.

She leaned back, bracing her arms on his legs behind her, giving him better access. There was no way she could prolong her orgasm. The change in angle, the taste of him lingering in her mouth, and his gentle massage sent the waves of release rippling through her. Within seconds, he exploded with his own climax.

Collapsing onto his chest, Liv felt euphoric, on top of the world. The combination of sweat and icing fused their skin together as they lay on the counter, content and satisfied. She nuzzled against him. “I thought you didn't like sweets?”

Laughing, Jake smoothed the moistened hair away from her face. “I'm liking them more every day.”

“I bet. You're a quick learner, too.” She tilted her head to look into his eyes. “The way you handled that piping bag. You were like an old pro.”

“I had a good teacher.” Lifting his head off the counter, he leaned in and kissed her softly.

“I don't know about my skills as a teacher, but I do know that some of those moves can't be taught.” Liv dipped her head to capture a kiss. She savored the taste. The sweetness of the icing and the saltiness of his sweat was an enjoyable combination.

The last thirty-six hours had been the most vulnerable, the most intimate, and the most butterfly-inducing hours of her life. She stared up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of reassurance.

These feelings aren't real. You're getting lost in a fantasy.

But wasn't the fantasy something she craved? She read about the happily ever after time and time again. Could it be that she'd just connected the dots? That the fantasy came when you found the right person. Was Jake the fantasy?

“I think we've created a new genre for sex fetishes: the icing fetish,” Jake said.

“You're right,” she cooed. “Skin will never taste the same for me. Nobody's skin has such a delicious taste.”

“Yours does.”

“Sure, with icing all over me.”

“No, even without the icing.” He nuzzled her neck. “The first time…in the fridge. You tasted so sweet.”

“Really?”

“I remember perfectly.” He looked away. “I could still smell you later on that evening. I prolonged having a shower because every once in a while I would get a whiff of you.”

“That's kind of creepy.”

Jake laughed. “Maybe a little, but I couldn't get you out of my head.”

Liv's heart fluttered. She was grateful that she wasn't the only one that was so shaken by their encounter. “You played hard to get.”

“I'm sorry,” he said, grinning. “I…I just didn't want to rush into anything. I wanted you to know how I feel before we…” His smile faded.

Liv rested her cheek on his chest, not wanting to look in his eyes when she asked, “How do you feel?”

The moment of truth.

Liv had broken her rules for him. Was it going to come back and bite her in the ass? This was the reassurance she was looking for, but did she want it? Did she have time to let him in?

He cupped her cheek and lifted her face to meet his. “I feel sad because it's Sunday and tomorrow morning we have to go back to the real world.”

There went those butterflies again. They fluttered aggressively in her stomach.

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