Page 6 of Whisking It All

“Jamie?” she breathed, arching her back to press herself into his hand.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Harder.”

He cursed under his breath and dropped his hand to brace himself on the bed beside her head, his hips slamming into her harder and faster with each thrust.

“Like this?”

She nodded, panting too hard to answer properly. He released his hold on her thigh, dragging his hand over her skin until he found her clit again with his thumb, strumming that swollen bud like a guitar string. A sharp spike of pleasure shot through her at the touch, growing stronger with each movement of his thumb.

“I wanna hear you, Tess. Wanna hear you scream my name when you come.”

She moaned, her eyes falling closed as her climax gathered at the base of her spine. A few more strokes of his thumb, a few more deep thrusts, and her orgasm ripped free, shooting fire down her legs, the soles of her feet burning with the pleasure. She screamed his name as he continued to fuck her, shouted it over and over in an unintelligible jumble of words as he drove her from one orgasm into another until he finally lengthened and jolted within her, and collapsed forward, his sweaty forehead pressed to her chest as he filled the condom.

When he’d discarded the condom and crawled back into bed beside her, she turned her back to him, letting him gather her into the little spoon position, his half hard cock pressed against her backside. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder and spoke against her skin, “That was… fuck, that was amazing.”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

And it was. Too amazing.

Stupid. No such thing as too amazing when you’re talking about orgasms.

“We’re lucky the room next door didn’t call the manager,” she said, forcing laughter into her tone.

“Were you holding back on me?” he teased sleepily.

“Maybe a little.”

Another kiss, this time further up the curve of her neck, his teeth barely grazing her pulse point. “Next time, I’ll have to fuck you somewhere you can be as loud as you want, then.” Another nip, this time on her ear.

Next time…

Her body was tired and sore in all the best places, but she couldn’t make herself relax. Jamie nuzzled his face into her hair, hot puffs of his breath warming her neck as he drifted off to sleep, and her mind reeled from the sudden sensation that the walls were closing in.

Next time.

In the early hours of the morning, before the streetlights had turned off, Tessa soundlessly wheeled her suitcase from the hotel room, closing the door behind her with a soft snick while Jamie slept. It’s better this way, she told herself as she rode the elevator to the lobby and ordered a car service to drive her to Aster Bay.

Chapter 3

“You outdid yourself this time, my friend,” Jamie said, running a hand lovingly over the top of a wooden crate piled high with beets, the deep purple orbs leaving a fine layer of dirt over his palm. He looked up at the grinning farmer who stood beside his pickup truck in the gravel parking lot of Jamie’s restaurant, Lemon and Thyme.

The restaurant was constructed on a wharf so that the building appeared to be floating on the water. The raised garden beds on either side of the main entrance were overflowing with herbs, scenting the warm September air thick with dill and thyme. The sight of his restaurant in the early morning usually set Jamie at ease, the reflection of the sun as it gleamed on the water slowing his racing thoughts, but not that morning. That morning he’d woken up in a strange hotel room alone, every trace of Tessa gone as though she’d never even existed. He’d thought they’d had a real connection, that he’d take her to the greasy spoon that made killer eggs benedict and find out how long she was in town, convince her they had the potential for something that went beyond incredible sex, that it was worth seeing each other again. Clearly, he’d misread the situation. It was a frustration and unease that even the water gently lapping at the pilings beneath his restaurant couldn’t quell.

Ricky gestured to another crate. “I also got those Brussels sprouts Anabel was asking after, and the leeks. I’m a little short on the arugula, though, and I’ll send someone by with the apricots later today. Couldn’t fit it all on the truck,” he said, gesturing to the overstuffed bed of his run-down pickup.

“I appreciate it.” Jamie dug into his back pocket for his wallet, pulling out a wad of crisp bills and holding them out to Ricky. “You’ve got the best produce for twenty miles.”

Ricky accepted the bills and shoved them into his pocket without bothering to count. “I bet you say that to all the farmers.”

“You and Cheryl come on by any time you want. Dinner’s on me. I owe her with all the work she’s going to be doing for the festival anyway.”

Ricky’s smile faltered as he ran his hand over the back of his head, leaving bits of soil in his crew cut. “I guess you haven’t heard yet.”

Jamie’s brow furrowed. He shifted on his feet, crossing his arms. “Heard what?”

“Cheryl’s been put on bed rest,” Ricky said. Jamie moved to ask more, but the farmer held up one hand, dirt embedded in the lines of his skin. “She and the baby are alright. It’s just a precaution.”

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