SSFCollection1 Ebook, page 34
“Try a sample, little lady.” I close my eyes to the innuendo as a shiver ripples over my skin. I try to refocus my thoughts and order the white chocolate with raspberry treat. Lily adds two other cupcakes to a pink plate and hands it to Hank, instructing him to, “Take a seat.”
We walk to the counter spanning the length of her second window and sit on high stools. Hank adjusts his stool to bring it closer to me. We face each other, and his knee slips between my thighs.
“Take a bite.” The words roll over me, and I shiver again, wanting nothing more than to open my mouth and nibble on him. He’s holding out the cupcake, and I’m wondering how my mouth will fit around the tower of icing. For some reason, my eyes lower to the seam of his jeans, but then I look away quickly. A man his size has to be large in other areas, and my mouth reacts in the same way it does toward this cupcake. Would it fit? How would it taste? A trembling hand comes to my forehead as I reprimand myself to get a grip.
“Wait.” He drags the white covered mini cake from my open mouth and I sit up, a little embarrassed and a lot frustrated as my mouth hangs open in anticipation. Setting the delicacy on the plate, he slips off his stool, disappears behind the display counter to the back room, and then returns. He stands at my side, sticking a candle in the icing next to the raspberry. My eyes widen, and my stomach flips—uncertain of his gesture and equally apprehensive of his memory. He flicks a lighter, and a single flame tops the candle.
“Happy Birthday,” he singsongs beside me, raspy and rumbling. His eyes find mine, pinning me to my seat when all I want to do is melt under it.
“You remembered?” I lower my head, picking at the hem of my athletic skirt. My cheeks heat with humiliation. A thick fingertip props up my chin as he takes his seat across from me.
“I’m so embarrassed,” I add, closing my eyes, unable to face him.
“Open those beautiful eyes, Middy.”
“Middy?” I chuckle nervously, snapping my attention up to him.
“Midge seems too old-fashioned for someone like you.”
“Someone like me.” I quietly parrot him. What do I look like to him? Who does he see? What must he think of me for calling into the hotline? He doesn’t explain and I chew at my lip. His thumb reaches up and tugs the tender skin from my teeth.
“Don’t be embarrassed about calling in to the crisis center. We all need someone to talk to sometimes.” I wish I could believe him, but I am a bit ashamed. My call seems so frivolous, not a real issue. I’m typically stronger at handling things. In hindsight, I don’t remember what I said.
“How old are you, Middy?”
“Forty-one.” A twinkle sparks in his steely eyes, making them silver. I like how he’s looking at me.
“Time to walk on the wild side. Make a wish, little lady, and take a bite.”
Why does the nickname make my belly flutter? Moreover, what wish should I make?
I wish I may. I wish I might. I blow out the candle, blushing from the warm sunshine steaming through the window and the sweetness of this man.
He holds the cupcake up to me again, minus the candle, and I open wide, dragging my teeth over the whipped sugar. My lids lower, and I may have purred at the pure heaven exploding in my mouth. White chocolate and raspberry. Yum.
“Better than an orgasm.” I sigh. Then realize what I’ve said. My eyes snap open to find his enlarged, dancing in the sunlight and flickering with something I haven’t ever seen directed at me. Like a big, bad wolf, he looks like he wants to eat me, and somehow, I’m certain the pleasure will be all mine.
“You’ve got…” His voice trails off as he swipes at my nose. Cripes. Here I thought he wanted to devour me, and he’s only staring because I have frosting on my face.
“Oh dear.” I reach for my nose, but he grips my wrist. His knee slips between my thighs again. When did he scoot so close? He sets the cupcake down, pokes a finger into the creamy frosting, and looks up at me.
“You have more here.” Before I can speak, he coats my lower lip with the icing. A gasp parts my lips, and he leans forward. “Let me get that.”
Instantly, soft lips cover mine, sucking at the sugary treat and spreading the delicacy before his tongue sneaks out and licks along the line. I open without thinking, and it’s all the invitation he needs. A hand cups the back of my head, and his mouth takes mine deeper, rougher, stronger. Lapping at mine, he cleans off the frosting and adds a new layer of sweetness. I might have purred again, and his lips curl. He’s smiling while he kisses me, and I’m so turned on.
My hands lower to his knee between my legs, feeling the thin, slippery material of his track pants. My fingers outline the muscular bulge of his leg, and my thighs clench around the bulk. The curve of his knee hovers an inch away from where I need some friction. I’m already damp. If he presses any closer, I’m sure to leave a stain on him. His fingers comb into my hair, holding me in place to continue our kissing. Icing lingers on our lips while other areas grow stickier. I’m ready to hump his knee like a dog in heat when a strong cough comes from my left. Breaking apart, I turn away from the business owner, covering my lips with shaky fingers. I need a moment to regain myself.
“Thanks, Lily.” Sarcasm drips from Hank’s voice, but it isn’t really her fault. We are in a public place, in broad daylight, kissing like two teenagers on an afternoon date. Sweet cheese, if only.
Hank stands, blocking me from Lily’s view. I can’t look at the other woman yet, embarrassment hitting me hard. “How much do I owe?” he says.
This pulls me back to reality.
“No. I’ve got this. It was my mistake.” I fumble around me to remember I don’t even have my purse. This man has me so mixed up I walked away from everything: the fundraiser, my boys, and my belongings.
“It’s okay, Middy. This one’s on me.” I’m not certain if he means the cupcakes or the potential mistake of kissing me. I’m firing up to protest to the first option when Lily interjects. “Count it as my donation to Ivy.”
Ivy. She must be someone special. Everywhere I drop her name or others use it, people are giving her things. Twelve large boxes rest on the display counter, which means Lily allowed our kiss to progress for as long as she could before she interrupted us. I flush again with the thought while Hank takes a stack of boxes out to his SUV.
“Sorry about that,” I mutter, pointing toward the window.
Lily pffts me. “I’m so happy Hank has a girlfriend. How long you two been together?”
“Oh, I’m not—”
“Not long enough,” Hank interjects. I hadn’t noticed he returned inside the bakery. “And I’ve been waiting too long for her.”
The words sound like the lyrics from a song, but I can’t place the tune. My heart sings its own melody at the moment. A dangerous ballad which will lead to nothing.
6
Icing on the cake
[Hank]
“You want to tap that, don’t you?” I turn to Tommy as I unload a tower of cupcake boxes from the back of Brut’s SUV. Thankfully, Midge stands a few feet away and doesn’t hear him.
“Dude,” I groan. “Lower your voice. We aren’t fifteen. Show some respect.” Tommy’s brow rises as his lip twitches.
“Oh, I recognize that look.” The intensity of his dark eyes holds me.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I do. I wore the same look about a year ago, and lucky me, look where it got me.” His head swivels toward his wife.
“You’re out of your mind.” I’m not getting married. There was only one woman for me, and she didn’t want my proposal. Besides, I only kissed Midge. I didn’t ask her to marry me.
The thought makes me stop because I did kiss her, and she was sweet in an untapped kind of way. In a—she could be wild, might want to be wild—if she only knew how sort of way. I remember seeing it in her eyes in Tommy’s bathroom. She would have given herself to me had Stephie not interrupted us.
My gaze drifts to Midge as she stands deep in discussion with Edie. I twist back to pick up the second pile of boxes.
“Whatever you do, stay away from that thing.” I look up and follow Tommy’s line of direction. His eyes seem focused on Midge’s short, stretchy skirt. I narrow my glare at him, not liking his implication.
“What are you talking about?”
“That thing. It’s a chick thing, and it’s complicated as fuck to get into.” My brows pinch, and I turn back to Midge.
“Are you talking about her skirt?”
“Skort, man. Whoever invented it was not a guy. It’s like shorts attached to a skirt. Sexy as fuck but hard to get into. Just get her out of it first.”
Holy shit. “Tommy, man.” I groan followed by a deep laugh. He’s still the same guy he always was even if he’s attached to one woman.
“Why aren’t you participating?” I ask, hoping to shift the subject far away from getting into Midge’s pants, or skort, or whatever the fuck. Since the moment her mouth touched mine, it’s all I can think about anyway. I need more than a sample of icing. I want the whole cake.
“I don’t partake in structured athletics,” he jests. He’s an avid runner, and by the size of his body, I know he purposely keeps in shape.
“You like yoga,” Edie adds as we near the women.
“Only with you, darlin’.” Her face brightens, and I don’t even want to know what Tommy’s referencing.
+ +
Hours pass. The 5K ends. Kids celebrate the victory of money raised for a good cause. Ivy cries with the attention given to her school and her students, and I search for Midge every chance I get, feeling shaky whenever she’s out of my sight. She didn’t say a thing about kissing me on our ride back in the SUV. She chattered about the cupcakes, learned Brut was my brother, and rattled on about the fundraiser, but she didn’t mention our kiss. She’s deflecting, and while I thought I was fine with her ignoring what happened, as the time ticks by, I find I want her to address it. I want her to own it. I want her to give me another taste.
When I see her heading toward the school entrance, which is actually an old, renovated church, I follow. I lose sight of her inside the building, but then notice the swing of a bathroom door. Stepping inside the ladies’ room, I turn the lock. Midge stands before a singular porcelain sink, her hands balanced on the edges.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I tease, but she closes her eyes.
“I just needed a minute.” I don’t know if it’s a hint to leave, but I have no desire to separate from her. Not liking our distance, I step forward to stand behind her. It’s similar to our first meeting, though the space isn’t quite as intimate. Daylight streams through the etched windows, and the fluorescent light isn’t the same as the glow of a candle.
“Talk to me,” I murmur, reminiscent of what I say on the crisis hotline.
“I can’t believe I pulled this off. I’ve been so stressed out about it. I just wanted it to be right for Ronin.” Ronin? One of her boys, right? I nod, meeting her eyes in the reflective glass. “He’s…he’s so complicated. Sweet Jesus, forgive me, but he’s the one I just can’t connect with sometimes.” I knew what she meant. Once upon a time, it was the same for me. I’d been the one my father couldn’t understand. A rock band hadn’t been his dream for his youngest son. “But I’m trying. I want to be there for him.”
Therein lay the difference. I recognize Midge is a good mother. I’d watched her—in a non-creepy way—interact with her sons throughout the afternoon. A tender touch. A sweet smile. They are her pride and joy.
“The day went great, Middy. You did good.” I grin at her through the mirror, and her eyes glisten back at me.
“What I’d say?” Tears border her eyes. Shit. I can’t handle when women cry.
“You’re very sweet.” She sniffles to will the tears away.
“You’re very pretty. I like the purple in your hair.” She watches me as she shakes her head, said hair tumbling in loose tendrils here and there from the bundle on her head. Her eyes reflect the sunlight bouncing in the mirror. “Your eyes are fucking gorgeous.”
The sharp tone of my voice catches her. She inhales, and my hands slip over her arms, stroking down to her wrists, and covering her hands at the edge of the sink pinning her against the porcelain.
“Did I mention earlier how glad I am to see you again?”
“No.” Her voice is hardly more than a whisper.
“What happened, little lady?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she lies, looking at me through the reflection.
“I kissed you.” I pause, waiting for her to interject, to add something, or say anything, but the silence lingers.
“I kissed you back.” Her words are soft spoken and low.
“Did you like it?” The question forces her eyes closed. It’s the only answer I need. My arm skates around her waist, tugging her back against me. There’s no denying I want her, and she can feel my desire on her lower back. My mouth moves to her neck, peppering her exposed skin with open-mouth kisses. “We didn’t get to finish what we started, and I’ll be damned if you leave another bathroom unsatisfied by me.”
My thumb teases into the waistband of her skirt, stretching the fabric as my hand dips lower. Her breath hitches.
“I shouldn’t be doing this.” Yet she isn’t fighting me off. In fact, she’s gripping my wrist, guiding my hand inside her skirt. Instantly, my fingertips touch dampness.
“Is it crazy how I want you?” I mutter, hoping she catches my flirting.
“Not as crazy as what I want you to do to me.” The challenge spurs me forward.
“Oh, yeah. What would that be, cupcake?” I lick her neck, tasting her sweet skin. She shakes her head, refusing to answer me. I’d give her everything against this sink if I thought she could handle me, but it might be a bit soon to take her.
“You ready for me, little lady?” I tease, noting the moisture deepens as I slip over elastic and under wet heat. “Holy shit, baby.” She’s slick and needy, pressing back against me. Her ass nudges my dick, though she’s too short to meet me. I spread my legs, evening us out a bit, but I’m not worried. I only want to make her feel good. As my finger invades her, she shoots her ass back, stretching for friction.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she mutters between sharp inhales. Her hands grip the sink as her body rocks over my fingers and her ass finds a teasing rhythm of bumping into me. I’m desperate for her, despite the bathroom scene.
“What did you wish for, Middy?” Her eyes jump back to me. Shaking her head, she’s refusing to speak as her back arches. She’s a cat in heat, and I love the stretch of her around my fingers. “What’s your birthday wish, little lady?”
“Hank, I…” Her voice drops husky as she bites her rosy lip. I watch with full attention as she throws her head back to my shoulder and squeezes her thighs. She wants to scream, but she clamps her lips tight.
“I want to hear you, baby.” Rolling her head on my shoulder, she refuses, and her screams become my next mission. “Give it to me.” Her thighs clench. Her head falls forward. She presses back on me and detonates. Her mouth falls open, but she sucks in silence. Her sparkling eyes roll closed, and her body relaxes. Fucking gorgeous.
“Mom?”
Her head shoots up to the locked door. A young male voice hesitates on the other side.
“Sweet cheese.” Midge presses at my wrist, willing me to release her. Sweet what?
“Tell him just a second,” I mutter.
“I’ll be right out,” she squeaks, her voice a little too high. I release her and lift my fingers to my lips. Licking them, I watch her straighten her skirt. She looks up at me in the mirror, observing me savor my forefinger.
“Better than frosting,” I murmur, holding her gaze. Her mouth gapes open but no sound escapes. I want to hear her. Why won’t she make a sound? She steps left, as if to go around me, but I twist to block her exit.
“Midge,” I demand.
“Mom,” her son calls again.
“I’ll be right there.” Frustration fills her eyes, and I can’t have her walk away. My back presses against the door. “I’ve got to go.”
“Not like this.” I hold my ground, counting the seconds to keep her with me. She stares at me. Strength builds in those maddening eyes.
“Midge.” I point at her. “Kiss me.” To my surprise, she leaps for me. Her arms circle my neck as she drags herself up my body and kisses the crap out of me. Her mouth moves with mine, nipping at me like she can taste me, lapping at me as if her tongue wants to memorize me. She’s saying goodbye in this kiss, and I won’t allow it. Too quickly, she pulls back. Stunned from the eagerness of her lips, I step to the side so she can slip out the door.
Tommy was wrong. Her skort was easy enough to get into, only I want Midge completely out of it. I want into her instead.
7
Not a quitter
[Hank]
“I quit my job.” Instantly, I recognize her voice. Finally hearing from her, after her silence in the bathroom and no communication over the past few days, my heart taps an extra beat. Then I realize what she said.
“Wait, what?”
“Sweet cheese. What did I do?” She pauses. “I quit my job.” The hysteria in her voice warns me she’s on the verge of tears. I do not want her to go to pieces on the phone. I want to be there to pick them up for her, and I can’t do it from the crisis center. She called in again. Going against every oath I made, the code of conduct, and patient privacy, I do something I shouldn’t do.
“Hang up,” I snap.
“What?” Her voice cracks. This woman has haunted me for weeks, and I can’t subject our conversation to the recording of a hotline. Morally and ethically, it’s undeniably not right to say this to someone in need, but I repeat myself.
