Authors: Lissa Matthews
Aidn Greer is a much-sought-after Dominant in the BDSM lifestyle with an unusual problem. He hasn’t owned a submissive in more years than he cares to think about. He’s bored with unchallenging women, yet mentoring other Doms and training subs has left him cold as well. He’s craving something other than plain old vanilla—a taste of something sinfully sweet that, for once, he can really sink his teeth into.
Professional cake baker Bailey Harris wasted ten years bored to tears with her marriage, enduring a job she hated, and harboring a secret desire for something passionate, fulfilling and dark. Then she found it…in the world of BDSM. Exploring on her own brought the kind of mind-opening experiences that led her to declare her independence—and exposed a yearning to find the one Dom for whom she’s willing to kneel. Permanently.
When Aidn and Bailey meet, it’s fire and ice. Sugar and spice. And an experience that satisfies every detail of both their fantasies. Almost. While the big, beautiful sub is everything Aidn wanted, her fierce independent streak could be more of a challenge than he bargained for…
Warning: This book brings together scorching-hot counter sex, decadent pink frosting, and no-holds-barred BDSM play for a spanking good time. Be sure to bring an ice-cold drink along…
They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520
Macon GA 31201
Pink Buttercream Frosting
Copyright © 2009 by Lissa Matthews
Edited by Tera Kleinfelter
Cover by Scott Carpenter
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: October 2009
Pink Buttercream Frosting
To those that have encouraged and supported me. To those that have let me cry on their shoulders at all hours of the night and day. To those that have mentored and guided me through my understanding of submission and BDSM, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Robert let out a low whistle. “Check out the rack on that one! She’s one piece-of I wouldn’t mind getting to know.”
“You’re such an asshole.”
“And you’ve been boring as shit for months.”
“Sorry. Not interested.”
Silence fell between the two friends and colleagues. The waitress brought the check as well as a couple of fresh drinks, telling the men there was no rush, eyeing both appreciatively and earning a wink from Robert.
“What about her? She’s not bad in a hand-in-the-cookie-jar-one-too-many-times kind of way.”
“Jesus, Robert. Could you be any more of a jerk?”
“Well, she’s not
bad. She’s got a pretty nice rack, too. Probably has a nice tight-on-the-inside ass to go along with it.”
Aidn glanced up with the beer bottle poised at his lips and followed the direction of Robert’s gaze. The man was just not going to shut up until he did. He took a long swallow as he watched the woman cross the cobbled street of the outdoor shopping area toward the bar and grill he sat inside of. He got a quick look at her before she turned and walked away down the sidewalk and something twitched in his mind. In that brief glance she seemed familiar to him, or at least her face seemed familiar, but he was unable to place where he might have seen her.
He had to agree with his friend. She was kind of pretty in a cute, wholesome way, though Aidn wasn’t into cute and wholesome. He wasn’t into curvy, either, and she definitely had curves, a few extra from the way she filled out her jeans and the form-fitting T-shirt. Still, there was something in the way she carried herself; confident and not at all timid about her petite, rounded body. The potential was there for an afternoon fuck session. Could he convince her of it? He could just imagine his hands gripping her hips as he thrust into her over and over again.
I’m no better than Robert.
Shaking the thought from his head, he took another long pull of the beer to finish it off and put the bottle down. “No, she’s not.”
“When was the last time you got some?”
Aidn stared at Robert for a moment, trying to find the best way, a different way, to explain it. Again. “It’s not about getting some. Shit. If that’s all it was about then there would be pussy in my bed every night.” And he certainly didn’t want to think about how long it had been.
“Then what? Are you bored? Have you fucked every single woman in town already?”
Robert’s attempt at humor was appreciated, but Aidn didn’t have the patience for it. Was he bored? Probably. His usual choice of woman was likely part of the problem. He liked variety and he liked singe-the-flesh-from-your-bones hot with long legs, made even longer in sky-high heels. But the emptiness was getting to be too much. The lack of connection on even the most basic intellectual levels drove him nuts. He wanted depth. He wanted to delve into a hot and interesting mind. He wanted someone worth his time and dominant skills. The truth of that was what was killing him. The need to be in control, to take a woman to the edge of her comfort zone and then push her off into unimaginable pleasure pulled at him. He was tired of fighting his own nature just to protect himself, but he couldn’t seem to help it, couldn’t seem to stop.
Most of the women he came in contact with played at being submissive, played the role in the bedroom. Dominance and submission was so much more than that to him. The hunger to have a girl on her knees at his feet because she needed to be there, because she needed to surrender tore him up inside.
He needed to stop thinking about it in personal terms. It wasn’t unlikely he would find a girl like that, a girl he could trust, a girl he wanted to trust.
He was suddenly ready to be done with lunch. He wanted to find the woman again, see if he could place her. “No. I haven’t. That’s your aspiration in life.”
Robert grinned at him. “Yes, it is. But, if it’s not just about a piece of ass, what is it? Have you changed your mind about wanting to find a submissive?”
“I don’t understand that either, Aidn. You’ve been in the lifestyle for a long time. What happened was years ago and it’s time you put it behind you and tried again.”
“It has been years, but you know why I don’t own, why I only choose to teach and guide others.”
“Yeah, I do, and it’s a lame-ass reason. You get to remain detached so you don’t get fucked over again. You get to remain in control. You get to remain a cold bastard. Yes, that much I get.”
“Whatever makes you sleep better at night. Look, I’ve got to get back to work. Some of us still have to punch the clock.”
Robert threw some bills on the table to cover the check and stood. Aidn stood as well and followed his friend out the door. He took a deep breath of fresh air, then let it out slowly, glad to be outside.
“You know, Aidn, maybe you should go introduce yourself to that woman. It may just be that you need a change for a while.”
He was about to give up when he spotted her through a display window sniffing an open tube of lotion, a look of sheer bliss on her face. The longer he watched her, the more it gnawed at him that he’d seen her before.
He’d just slipped his hands into the front pockets of his jeans when it hit him—the fetish club. He’d seen her at Abyss.
She was a wanderer, usually found around the upper floors watching rather than participating in the scenes and play sessions. They’d spoken a few times, never more than casual exchanges and greetings. He’d found himself following behind her at times, though usually kept his distance. She had an air of innocence coupled with an air of intense curiosity that intrigued him. Did she know how different she appeared, that she drew the interest of those that lived rather than just played at the lifestyle, that she drew his interest?
And here he was, observing her again, this time through a pane of glass, keeping himself apart from her even though he was completely drawn to her. It was rare that he met other club patrons outside the informal, social gatherings BDSM people referred to as munches—play parties—and the club. Seeing her in public, in daylight, in every day surroundings, made him feel odd, as though he were intruding or exposing a secret.
She put the lotion back on the shelf and turned away with an almost wistful glance back at it. Why wasn’t she buying it when she so obviously wanted it? He didn’t have time to think beyond that because she was coming toward him, but then she stopped and turned back. She picked up the tube again and drew her top lip down between her teeth. With a quick stride, she went to the cash registers at the back of the store and soon exited carrying a small green- and pink-striped bag.
She stopped, stumbled a bit and looked up. Within seconds, a blush stole across her cheeks. She recognized him, and a jolt of pleasure raced through his blood.
Her eyes darted away from his face then back up. “Hi,” she said softly, a smooth Southern accent lacing her voice.
He moved a little closer. “I’ve never introduced myself when we’ve talked before. My name is Aidn.”
The blush got a little pinker. “I know.”
He nodded. Her gaze kept moving, flitting back and forth to the area around them. Another curiosity about her; the confidence he’d noticed earlier was now replaced with uncertainty. For a moment, a small minute moment, he felt bad, but… “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable. I was having lunch and saw you pass by.”
“It’s all right.”
Questions appeared in her eyes and he braced himself, though he couldn’t imagine what for. She was harmless, really. She might set his blood on fire and make his cock uncomfortably hard, but she was still harmless, just a girl he’d seen in a club. Right? Right.
“Is there something you want, Aidn?”
A loaded question. She didn’t mean it the way he took it, but he wanted a lot more than he dare ask for. He wanted to touch her, wanted to kiss her. He wanted to lay her out on a bed and fuck her until she couldn’t walk, couldn’t move. He wanted to tie her up, bind her, shield her eyes and gag her mouth so all that was left was sensation. What he didn’t want was to stand in the middle of the sidewalk, shifting from one foot to the other with the silence growing between them. “No. I just… I honestly don’t know why I stopped you.” Frustrated with his fumbling, he ran a hand through his hair.
She smiled up at him and started to walk away. “Okay. Maybe I’ll see you at the club again. Have a good day.”
He never fumbled around women. What the hell was wrong with him? He needed to get his shit together. “Wait.”
She turned and looked up at him again before the word was fully out of his mouth. He tried to hide his grin. “Yes?”
“At least tell me your name.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s Bailey.”
“Pleased to meet you, Bailey.” He held his hand out to her and she took it, sliding her smaller palm against his larger one. If he was romantic enough to believe in sparks, he would swear they were there in that small touch. “Would you like to get coffee or something?”
Her eyes hid nothing. She let them roam from his head to his shoes and back again. He bit back another grin. She was taking his measure, trying to determine if she could trust him, here, in public. It was sobering really. Most women, especially those from the club, dropped to their knees in a frenzy to just spend time with him, but not this one.
If she could read minds, she’d have found that his request wasn’t all that benign. He had ulterior motives, ones she would likely run from. Unlike her, though, he could hide his thoughts. His eyes didn’t give him away, not unless it was what he wanted.
When she slid her hand from his, she hesitated only slightly before answering. “Sure.”
Again, pleasure coursed through him and he found himself…happy. “Great.”
She turned and started walking. He fell into step beside her. “Are you pleased with your purchase? You didn’t seem sure about it.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I am. It smells like frosting.”
He looked down at her but she kept her gaze straight ahead. “The lotion?”
“Yes. It smells like cake frosting.”
“You started to leave but went back to get it. Why the hesitation?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t need it.”
Didn’t need it? “Is lotion like that ever really a necessity? I mean, isn’t it more of a small indulgence?” As if he knew anything at all about such things.
“Yes, I suppose so. There are more important things than a twenty-dollar tube of lotion. Even if it does smell delicious.”
There was a dreamy note to her voice when she said the word delicious. As they walked along and talked of nothing important, he took note of the fact that he was a good head taller than she was. Her dark blonde curls bounced against her shoulders with each step she took and his fingers itched to grip them, to see if they were as soft to the touch as they appeared to be. He wanted to tilt her head back and kiss her. He wanted her name on his lips.
Lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed she wasn’t beside him anymore. He looked back to find her standing in front of a coffee shop, an expectant look on her face. Chagrined, he made his way back to her. “I apologize.”
“It’s okay. We can skip it if you like.”
“No. I was just off in my own little world. It happens from time to time.” He guided her into the store with a hand at her back, just barely touching her. The heat coming through her shirt was enough to make him curl his fingers into a fist. It would likely scare the poor woman if he reached under her shirt to touch her bare skin as he wanted to do. Would she welcome his touch? Would she tremble? Would she quiver? Or would she slap at his hand? He damned sure wanted to find out, bu—
Shit. He’d done it again. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Care to share?”
She was biting back a smile and he laughed. Was she flirting with him? Relaxing just a little? Doubtful, but the look in her eyes, the small twinkle, gave him pause. What would she think if he told her the truth?
“I might.” He winked at her before turning his attention to the barista.
At the counter they ordered a large black coffee for him and a small macchiato with extra caramel for her. There was silence between them as they waited for her drink. It wasn’t uncomfortable per se, but she seemed to be looking everywhere but at him again.
The coffee drink was handed to her and they walked to a small table outside under an awning. Once seated, she pinned him with a pointed look. The girl changed from one moment to the next. She would keep him on his toes, and though it made him smile, he didn’t have a desire to be kept…on his toes or anywhere else for that matter.
“How did you know I hesitated about buying the lotion?”
“Truth?” She nodded as she sipped her drink. “I was watching you through the window, trying to make out where I’d seen you before.”
“Ah. Okay. So…”
She laughed. It was the first time he’d heard the fresh, full-throated sound. It wasn’t small and dainty, but rather passionate and honest. She wasn’t trying to impress him and he couldn’t have been more impressed by her.
“You were going to share where your thoughts were earlier.”
That expectant look was back and he wasn’t sure what to say. Was he really going to tell her about his desire to kiss her? Was he really going to put himself out there like that? Not likely. He wasn’t in any way, shape or form ready for that.
“But it seems that you have changed your mind. It’s okay. What do you do? For work, I mean.”
A safe topic of discussion. Thank God. “I’m a lawyer. Contracts, mostly.”
Aidn smirked. There really was nothing fascinating about contract law, he just happened to be very good at it. “Not really. Though some of the lifestyle contracts are interesting to review.”
“Lifestyle contracts? You mean BDSM contracts?”
“Yes, it’s something I do pro bono for the local community. I like to think I help people understand what they’re getting into between themselves, what the core of BDSM is all about. It’s an honor thing and can’t be held up in court, but it is a declaration and there are many who want the formality that a contract provides.”