Tasty (17 page)

He
looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “You were the
competition. I didn’t want to let you know I was scared.”
Under the table, I feel his fingers brush against my thigh. Warmth
spreads from the contact and I lean into his touch. “That
cupcake was delicious,” he says, his voice low. “I had to
reverse engineer one for myself. What do you call them? Pink ladies?

“Pink
Surprise,” I say, twisting my mouth wryly. As flattered as I
am, that move of his wasn’t so funny a few days ago. “So
you admit: you did steal it?”

Cal
gives me a grin. “All’s fair in love and war.”

I
resist the urge to kick him under the table.

“Just
you wait, McKenzie,” I tell him. “I’ll get my
revenge yet.”

“Will
you?” he asks, smirking. “We’ll see.”

Then
Cal motions off the side of the deck. I see land approaching on the
horizon. It’s just a tiny cluster of trees and rocks with a
small cabin in the middle.

“Cal,
what’s this?”

“Dessert,”
he says.

#

Apparently,
Cal has more in mind for after-dinner treats than crème
brûlée. He’s rented out the entire island so we
can go night fishing. My dad would be so jealous, landlocked in
Arizona while his daughter gets to partake in his favorite hobby in
the middle of the night. Of course, I never could stand fishing with
my dad. It was so
boring
.
But fishing with Cal is another matter entirely. Still in our formal
wear, we disembark near a rocky outcropping. I leave my pumps on the
ship and go barefoot over the rocks. But the stones are slippery, and
I nearly take a dip. But Cal catches me at the last moment.

“Easy,
lass,” he says. I could stand again, but I honestly don’t
want to. I love the feeling of Cal’s strong arms bolstering me.
I throw an arm over his shoulder and press my face to his lapel,
breathing in the scent of him, all mixed up with the fresh seawater.
I let him carry me to the door of the cabin where he disappears
inside to find two fishing poles.

Funny
thing. Cal’s no fisherman, either. Our lines get all tangled as
soon as we try to cast them. We untangle them, and he casts again,
making wild whooping sounds that are bound to scare away the fish.
I’m not helping any. I’m dying with laughter. There’s
something about this night, and the stars sparkling overhead, that
makes me feel giddy, reckless.

“We’ll
never catch anything if you keep making those noises,” I
finally manage. I inch toward him. He steps closer, too, until we’re
nearly touching.

“Honestly?”
he says. “I don’t want to catch a fish. I can’t
stand the thought of killing anything. That’s why I deal in
pastries, not seafood.”

“The
Cake Master is a sensitive soul,” I tease. “I’m
going to call up Perez, spread it all around the internet!”

“Please
don’t. I have a reputation to maintain,” he returns. He’s
so close, I could kiss him in a second.

“Hot
and mean and hard as a diamond.”

“You’re
right about one of those,” he says. In one easy movement, he
puts his hand on my back and draws me close. The satin of my dress is
so thin, it’s almost nonexistent. I can feel the heat of his
hands, his body.

He
leans back into the sand, pulling me against him. On my knees, I
straddle his waist, dipping low to kiss him along his strong jaw. He
teases at the hem of my dress, his fingers scorching against my skin.
“Fuck, Juliette,” he breathes.

I
fumble with his fly. Desire as hot and desperate as hunger rages
through me. I squeeze him through his pants and moan when he hardens
against my hand. I’ve waited too long for this. I push my pussy
against him, feeling lust pulse through me everywhere I’m
touching him, and Cal grabs my ass with both hands, moving my body so
all the important points intersect . . . 

That’s
when I notice movement out of the corner of my eye: Jimmy, in the
yacht, silhouetted against the moon. About to get a major eyeful.
Breathing heavily, my hair all askew, my breasts heaving, I pull
away.

“Maybe
we should go back to your place,” I suggest, angling my head
toward
The
Casanova
,
“away from prying eyes.”

Cal’s
breathing hard, but he gives a nod. “Not a bad idea,” he
agrees. “Wouldn’t want to get sand everywhere.”

He
stands and offers me his hand. I take it, and together, we head for
the boat.

Cal’s
been planning for tonight. When we get back to his bungalow, all the
windows have been thrown open so that the warm, sensuous breeze
mingles through the curtains. He’s set out candles and begins
to light them as soon as we step inside. But honestly? I don’t
really care. I’m ready to ravage him, tear off that expensive
suit and bruise his skin with kisses. I want to taste him, to feel
him inside me. I kick off my heels and wrap myself around him, but
when I press my mouth to him, he pulls away.

”Is
something wrong?” I ask. He laughs lightly.

“You
have sand in your mouth,” he says. “Yummy.” Then he
shakes a hand through my hair. “And your hair.” He lifts
his eyebrows.

“Why
don’t we hop in the shower?”

Cal
leans over and kisses my shoulder deeply. “I’d do
anything to see you soaking wet.”

The
master bedroom suite is on the other end of the house. I pause only a
moment to glimpse at his enormous four-post bed, deftly made with
satin sheets, before we step into the bathroom on the far end.

Peeling
my clothes off feels like an exhalation. I lean over to turn on the
tap, but Cal comes around behind me, cupping my breasts and kissing
the base of my neck. “You’re beautiful,” he says.
Warmth erupts from everywhere his skin touches me.

“You’re
overdressed,” I respond. I turn on the tap and spin to face
him. Desperate as I am, I rip off his shirt in a second. Steam rises
around us as he takes off his pants. I take in all of him: the
sculpted arms, the broad shoulders and the sexy chest hair. He’s
huge, bigger than any guy I’ve ever seen before. And he’s
already hard as we step into the stream of water. It pours around us,
making me slippery and warm. My eyes are fixed on his package,
between his thighs. I can’t look away.

“Oh,
you’re—” I begin, and then find myself laughing
nervously. “
You’re
beautiful.”

Cal
looks at me through the fog, green eyes wide with humor.

Suddenly,
I don’t feel self-conscious at all. I know him better than I’ve
known anyone else. If there’s one thing that cupcakecasanova
loves more than anything in the world—more than cooking,
even—it’s oral. Giving and getting. I step forwards
through the water, until I can feel the hard length of him against my
soft thigh. Then, arching my back as I move, I bend low. The water
streams down my tits. Cal reaches out to caress my nipples. It feels
delectable, pleasure shooting through my body, but I hardly notice.
I’m focused on other things, like licking a trail across his
perfect abs, down and down. I wrap my hand gently around the shaft of
his cock, then tighten. He throws his head back.

“Ohhh,
Juliette,” he pants. I caress his balls with my free hand,
letting my tongue linger on his happy trail, letting my hand around
his cock stroke, slowly, slowly, up and down. We’re both
soaking wet, but it’s as much from our desire as it is from the
shower water pounding against our backs. His balls tighten as his
arousal grows. At long last, I let my tongue flit along the length of
him. He tastes full and rich and strong. I open my mouth and suck him
in, all of him. He moans. My own thighs tremble with desire. Slowly,
carefully, I draw back. Pause. He grabs a rope of my wet hair. His
eyes are closed, but he’s moving his hands, his hips. God, he’s
gorgeous. I want him inside of me, but right now, I’m happy to
give, too. I suck him down deep again. His balls tighten beneath my
fingers.

“I
need to finish inside of you,” he growls. “Let’s go
to bed.”

We
separate our bodies for a moment. It feels like nothing short of
torture. But he can’t keep his hands off me. He grabs my ass,
pulling me close. Then he begins to kiss a line down the side of my
face and throat. Before I know it, he’s picking me up and
carrying me to bed. I feel the weight of his body on top of me, and
he kisses me deeply on the mouth. We are so wet from the shower and I
love feeling his skin slide against mine. My skin is still warm from
the shower, and Cal is even warmer against me. I almost forget I’m
here, naked, vulnerable. We’re just two bodies, melting
together. Like science. Like alchemy.

He
leans me back into the satin sheets. The room is lit only by candles
and moonlight. I feel like I’m in a dream as his hands explore
every inch of my skin, my breasts, my stomach, my ass, my lips, wet
and gently parting. I’m slick with pleasure. It tingles through
me and I buck my hips, biting my lips. As his fingers circle the
mouth of my pussy slowly, Cal, sitting back, gives me a cocky grin.

“I’m
not half as beautiful as you are, Juliette.”

I
moan, my hips lifting off the bed to meet his hand. But he doesn’t
plunge his fingers into me. If he makes me wait one more second, I’ll
kill him. “I’m calling in that fucking rain check,”
I say.

Cal
smirks with that infuriating, smug expression. I raise my hips
higher, but he still doesn’t move.

“Fuck
you, Cal McKenzie,” I growl and he bends towards me, nipping at
my neck. My body tightens in anticipation.

“I
think I will.”

He
pushes into me, huge and pulsing. I cry out, tightening my grip
around his back. He’s so big that I feel almost like I’m
being split in two. But as he moves, my pussy relaxes into him. He’s
wet from my body. I’m wet from him,

He
starts to ride me, slowly at first. The friction between us sends
heat coursing through me. I move my hips in time with him, driving to
take him deeper.

He
begins to move harder and faster, pinching my nipples so that I gasp.
“You’re so tight,” Cal says, his breath hot against
my neck. He reaches between us and teases my clit.

“Fuck,”
I moan. The contact, the pressure, drives me closer to the edge. He’s
rubbing circles as he thrusts into me, sending bolts of pleasure that
arch through me. It’s too much, like my entire world is
crashing in. The orgasm starts to build and I reach up, starving for
his mouth, desperate for his taste. His lips crash into mine just as
I come. I scream against him, my thighs rhythmically clenching. But
he doesn’t stop. If anything, it makes him fuck me harder.

Just
as the orgasm relents, Cal pauses, pulling himself out of me. “Don’t
think I’m finished with you yet,” he says, and already
I’m ravenous for him again.

Skillfully,
he turns me over so that I’m face down in the sheets. His hand
is firm and against the mound of my ass. I’m aching for him
already, legs spread wide and ready. But instead of fucking me, he
gives me a slap against my backside. It’s a sweet pain, a
biting pain. I let out a yelp. He spanks me one more time.

I clench in
anticipation. This time, he sinks his cock into my waiting pussy
instead. My grip tightens on the bed sheets as pleasure mounts from
deep within me. From behind, I can really feel the full, delicious
length of him as he rides me. I begin to shudder, my whole body
tensing. He’s getting harder and harder, and my pussy is tight
as a vise around his length. I’m growing close again. He feels
so fucking good inside me.

He’s
moaning now. I begin to shiver, pleasure building. I feel his balls
slap against me. My back arches into him and he grabs me closer to
him. I’m coming again before I even realize it’s
happening. As waves of pleasure move through me, I ride him harder
and harder, until I’m sitting back against his cock, and he’s
balls deep inside. He grabs my hips with one hand, my nipple with the
other, and deliberately, smoothly, he slows me down. His strokes into
me are hard and purposeful. I let out a small cry with each one.

At
last, he plows into me a final time, and I feel his body tense and
twitch. As he comes, I begin to come a third time, until together
we’re nothing more than a writhing mass of bodies, him deep and
hard, and me bucking against him.

When
it’s over, we collapse together in a soggy heap in his bed. For
a moment, he’s still inside me. Then he lets out a laugh. He
doesn’t withdraw, not yet. Instead, he moves my still-wet hair
aside so he can kiss the place where my neck meets my collarbones.
He’s still hard and full inside me. I lean into his cock. He
laughs, and kisses me again.

“Damn,”
he says, gravelly voiced. “Damn.”

“Damn,”
I agree, turning my head back to kiss him, too. I want to stay like
this forever, Cal inside of me, both of us sweet and sexy and spent.
But all good things must end, even sex.

“I’m
dying for a snack,” he says. “I’ve got some Biscoff
in the cupboard.”

I
savor him inside of me for just a moment longer. If it has to end, it
might as well end like this, with a heaping teaspoon of cookie
butter.

“A
man after my own heart.”

Monday
morning, I wake slowly, stretching out my arms and legs between Cal’s
luxurious satin sheets. The windows are all thrown open. The sounds
of the ocean ease me to life again. There are seagulls calling on the
warm sea breeze. The taste of Cal is still on my lips, and my body is
sweetly sore after a night spent fucking him. I remember everything
we did, his hands, his cock, the muscles of the small of his back
curling beneath my hands, and a slow smile lights my face. But when I
turn over in the massive bed, and reach out for the long body that’s
been tucked beside mine all night, I come up empty.