Desperate to make this so good for her she’ll forget every man she’s ever been with.
She’s chanting nonsense. My name and please and other, unintelligible words mixed together, and all I can do is open my eyes and watch helplessly. Captivated by her expression, her breaths, the way she clings to me, her head tipped back as if she’s lost in her own little pleasurable world. I move faster, grinding against her, waiting for her to fall completely apart because holy fuck, I’m dying to see it. Dying to feel it. Feel her.
And then she’s coming, a filthy word falling from her lips as she shudders and shakes all around me. I remain still, my c*ck filling her, my thumb pressing against her cl*t until her tremors slow, and she becomes a warm, languid woman, limp in my arms, silly, sexy little words still coming from her lush lips in a breathy whisper.
Fuck, that is the biggest turn on ever.
Lacking control or finesse, I resume my pace and pound inside of her, intent on the orgasm that’s barreling down upon me. I’m almost there, the familiar tingling starts at the base of my spine, and my thrusts become erratic. Pushing deep, deeper still, until I’m buried so far inside her I’m afraid I’ll never find my way out.
Only until then am I coming, my body trembling, a loudly proclaimed f**k coming from deep within my chest as I come inside her. I clutch her close, bury my mouth against the soft, fragrant skin of her shoulder, and I bite her there, earning a whispered gasp from her for my efforts.
“Damn,” I breathe as I turn into her, breathing against her neck. She smells amazing. Like sand and the ocean and flowers. Fragrant and so damn intoxicating I’m afraid I could stay like this forever, breathing her in, feeling her surround me.
“Um.” She shoves at my chest and I lift my head away from her shoulder to find she’s looking fairly awkward.
As in, oh my God, I totally regret doing this type of awkward.
Hell. I’ve gone and done it this time.
Withdrawing from her, she unwinds her legs from my hips. We’re both silent as I set her on her feet, my gaze not meeting hers.
The moment went from hot to uncomfortable in a matter of minutes.
I watch out of the corner of my eye as she bends over and snatches her clothes up, and I do the same. We both get dressed, and when I throw away the used condom in the trash can nearby, I earn a snort that sounds suspiciously of disapproval coming from her direction.
Well, what the hell does she want from me? At least I used protection, right?
I turn to find she’s completely covered though rather sloppily, her hair a haphazard mess around her head and her swollen lips still tempting me to kiss her.
By the look on her face though, I don’t think she’s in the mood for sweet kisses and a whispered, “That was f**king amazing.”
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she blurts, clamping her lips shut the moment the words are out.
Ouch. I rub at my still bare chest since I haven’t buttoned up my shirt yet. Well. That hurt like hell. “Too late,” I say, because what else can I say? It is too late. We did it.
Best sex of my life and she’s full of regret.
“It was a mistake,” she continues, her words like daggers straight to my still wildly beating heart.
“Pretty bad for you then, huh?” I quickly do up all the buttons of my shirt, stuffing my tie into my front pocket. No way she didn’t enjoy what just happened between us. “I couldn’t tell, what with the way you screamed my name and kept begging me ‘please’.”
She glares at me. Great. We’re right back at it again. “There you go, resuming the piggish qualities I find so endearing.”
I shove my shoes on, not bothering with socks. I just want the hell out of here. My post-climatic high is fading fast. Hell, it’s pretty much demolished. She’s got me on the defensive, and I don’t like it. “I think for once, we’re in agreement,” I tell her as I leave the kitchen.
Marina follows after me, her bare feet taking her pretty fast, since my angry strides have me at the front door in less than five seconds flat. “What do you mean?” she calls after me.
I turn and pin her with a glare, suddenly furious at her. More than anything, furious with myself. I hate how she’s making me feel bad, like I did something wrong. Like we should’ve never had sex. Maybe she’s not too far off the mark, but it’s like she’s rubbing it in. “You’re right. It was a mistake. We should never have done that.”
Turning away from her, I flick the lock undone and open the door, exiting the bakery without another word.
IT TAKES EVERYTHING I have to get out of bed this morning. I hardly slept, my mind too occupied with last night’s events. Every time I moved, trying to force myself to fall asleep, my entire body ached but not in a bad way. More in a wow, that was amazing and I came so hard I almost blacked out sort of way.
Not that I’d ever admit that to Gage.
What had been an amazing moment went south real quick. And it was all my fault.
Regret fills me at the way I spoke to him, how I called what happened between us a mistake. I mean, yeah. I sort of do regret that it happened but only because our ‘relationship’—I have no idea what else to call it—is so bizarre. I don’t know him, not really. And what I do know of him, I don’t like. Every time we encounter one another, sparks fly, and usually they’re angry ones.
Not last night, though. Those angry sparks turned into chemistry-filled sexy sparks, which then morphed into totally orgasmic sparks. God, the way he touched me, his mouth everywhere, his hands everywhere, his drugging kisses, his big c*ck moving inside me . . .
My body tingles just remembering it.
Forcing myself to get up, I take a quick shower, scrubbing my still-sensitive body carefully with soap. My palms brush over my n**ples and they harden instantaneously. God, what would I do if he was in the shower with me? His big, soapy hands sliding all over my skin, reaching between my legs, his sure fingers touching me in that exact spot where I so desperately want him to touch. Bringing me to orgasm again and again—
“Marina! It’s almost seven! You’re going to be late!” Mom yells from the other side of my bathroom door, killing my delicious Gage-in-the-shower fantasy in an instant.
I really need to move out on my own, but I come from a traditional family and haven’t really found the need to fight it. Until now.
Finally I get my butt to the bakery to find the pumpkins Gina had set out a few days ago gone, damp spots remaining where they’d been and a scattering of pumpkin seeds. I stride into the bakery and look around, waving at Eli, one of the two college students we have working for us part-time, on his perch behind the register.
“Where’s Gina?” I ask as I get closer to the counter.
“Back in the kitchen. She’s working on that second batch of chocolate croissants for you.” Eli grins and shakes his head.
I forgot all about the croissants. I think I’m still in a Gage-induced haze.
Entering the kitchen, I find Gina standing at the oven with her back to me, peering through the glass window to check on her croissants baking within. “Hey. What happened to the pumpkins outside?” I ask.
“Oh! You startled me.” She whirls around, her smile rapidly replaced with a frown. “When I arrived this morning, they were destroyed. Smashed all over the sidewalk.”
I frown in return. I stayed at least an hour after Gage left, mopping the floor, scrubbing down the wall he pinned me against. I’d been about to leave when I noticed the streaks all over the glass front door, from where he had me pinned there too. I’d had to grab the Windex and scrub ’til it shone.
Having sex in the freaking bakery was not the smartest thing to do. I still can’t believe we did it. I mean really, what the hell was I thinking? He should be my sworn enemy, not the man who gave me the most intense orgasm of my life.
And if he ever knew that, I can only imagine the smug expression on his too-handsome face. The sight of it would probably make me want to punch him.
“I stayed pretty late last night,” I finally say. “What time did you get here?”
“Around four. I came early, couldn’t sleep.” Gina opens the oven door and reaches inside, a baking mitt covering her hand as she slowly withdraws the cooking sheet from inside. Perfectly formed golden brown croissants fill the tray, the fragrant aroma making my mouth water.
And I left just past eleven, so it had to have happened between midnight and four. “I bet it was kids.”
“I’m sure. I already cleaned up the mess. It wasn’t that bad, but it makes me reluctant to set out any more pumpkins.” Gina shakes her head. “Jerks.”
“Yeah.” Unable to resist, I pluck a piping hot croissant off the tray, tearing off a small piece and dropping it into my mouth. It melts on my tongue, warm and so freaking delicious I moan loudly. “So good, Gina.”
She beams with pride. “Thank you. You know, you can check the security cameras. See if you can see anything.”
“You’re right.” I tear off another piece and chew. I always forget about the security cameras. They’re relatively new. “I think I’ll go check it out.”
“Let me know if you see anything,” she calls after me as I leave the kitchen and head to my office.
Deciding I better check before I get on with my normal day and forget, I log into the security site we use, bringing up the outdoor camera. I fast forward through the film, not really seeing anything until around two-thirty in the morning, when two people with slender builds and hoodies over their heads and faces come along and smash the pumpkins against the sidewalk, kicking them over and jumping up and down on them like they’re bouncing on a trampoline.
Yep, kids. So stupid.
They don’t linger long and I stop checking, knowing there’s not much I can do since I can’t see their faces. Besides, maybe I could get them on vandalism charges, but come on, what cop is going to go after kids destroying pumpkins?
If it happens again, then I’ll contact the police. For now, I’m letting it lie.
Huh. I wonder if the cameras caught Gage and me last night? My cheeks heat at the thought of seeing the two of us kissing in the front entrance, me plastered against the door . . .
Deciding to check the other cameras, I click quickly through the feeds, rewinding and fast-forwarding through the last few days, momentarily startled to notice that business is definitely picking up during the early lunch crowd. I usually don’t come out and help behind the counter until around twelve thirty, but customers are coming in even earlier, the place looking packed around eleven thirty.
I know by the daily tallies that business is increasing, but seeing the evidence makes it even more real.
Great. Business is picking up, and I’m thrilled. But are Gage and I on the camera feed or what?
Continuing my search, my heart starts racing when I don’t find any evidence of the two of us, when really there should be. The camera system cost a bundle when we initially purchased it, but the monthly maintenance fee isn’t that bad and worth the expense. Though maybe I should reassess. Who really needs a camera on the kitchen? Really the only people who are in there are me and Gina and our handful of employees.