by Ciz, Alley
Her flavor was the most hedonistic dessert on the planet, all sugar and vanilla with a lingering spice that was pure Holly. He could live off the taste of her and he’d only sampled her mouth. Lord help him when he got to experience the rest of her.
When her hands trailed up the plane of his chest, there was a momentary sense of panic that she would push him away, but it faded when she fisted the fabric of his sweatshirt.
He was at risk of hoisting her up and laying her on top of the cupcakes she'd painstakingly decorated. With a growl, he pulled back, breaking their kiss.
Though his chest heaved from the rough breaths needed to control the raging inferno of lust barreling through his body, his words were even. “I’ll pick you up at eight. See you then, Cupcake.” He dropped a kiss to her forehead and left the kitchen before he said screw any potential health code violations and fucked her against the counter covered in cupcakes, his now full-fledged boner cursing him the entire way.
Four
Coven Conversations
From the Group Message Thread of The Coven
QUEEN OF SMUT (Maddey): Ummm… I thought Vin was in training camp???
QUEEN OF SMUT: *GIF of Britney Spears looking confused*
ALPHABET SOUP (Rocky): He is. We pretty much own his ass until the New Year.
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA (Becky): *GIF of Cinderella locked in her room*
MAKES BOYS CRY (Skye): Oh shit! I love when one of the boys misbehaves.
MAKES BOYS CRY: *GIF of Michael Jackson eating popcorn*
MOTHER OF DRAGONS (Jordan): Why do I feel like we’re missing a piece of the puzzle here?
QUEEN OF SMUT: Well two days in a row I saw him in Espresso Patronum and I didn’t think it was on his approved diet plan.
PROTEIN PRINCESS (Gemma): The fuck it is. His ass better get back here so I can check his weight. Rock if he’s cheating and gains weight, you have that sexy husband of yours kick his ass across the mat today.
ALPHABET SOUP: *GIF of Michelle Tanner saying “You got it Dude”*
QUEEN OF SMUT: What I don’t get though, is both times he’s been here, he’s disappeared into the back. So that’s the only thing I can’t figure out.
MOTHER OF DRAGONS: Ask Lyle what’s going on.
MAKES BOYS CRY: Screw that. Jor meet in the lobby. We’ll be there in 15.
THE OG PITA (Beth): Why do I have to have a regular job? I want to come. You guys better send me some video to watch later or something.
ALPHABET SOUP: Gurrrll. You know I got you. Now go mold minds or you know whatever it is you teachers do.
YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: True. Children are the future after all.
PROTEIN PRINCESS: Madz, we’ll be right there.
Chapter Five
With the birthday cupcakes finished and packaged for pickup, Holly went in search of her friends to see what needed to be replenished for the shop. She may have told her mystery guy she finished at two—most days she was there by five in the morning—but more often than not, she clocked in more than twelve hours a day baking in the back. It was the least she could do. She owed them so much more than what could be repaid monetarily. She only hoped one day she would be able to return their kindness, because without them there was a chance she would still be stuck in hell.
She tried to deny the salary they insisted on paying her but eventually caved. She would need the income if she was ever going to be able to afford her own place and stop freeloading in their guest room.
“Any special requests?” she asked Lyle when she joined him behind the front counter.
As she let him pull her in to snuggle against his side, she admired the unique brilliance of what he and his husband had created.
The Espresso Patronum was a Potterhead’s dream. Scattered throughout the eclectic seating was different Harry Potter-themed upholstery. One chair had mini Hedwigs, another the Deathly Hallows symbol, one with spells scrolled across, and her personal favorite was The Marauder’s Map.
Aside from the black lacquer tables, nothing in the place matched, yet it managed to come off as a sort of controlled chaos of colors, making her think of what Alice experienced when she fell down the rabbit hole into Wonderland.
How could you not love a place where the lights were upside-down coffee mugs and the bar stools at the counter were made to look like the person was an animal, or that you were looking at their ass? Seriously, they had a stool meant to make you think you were seeing a person in a thong with lips prints on one of their bare butt cheeks.
“No, Sweets. We’re all good for now.” Lyle looked her over from head-to-toe. “You have to be the prettiest hot mess I’ve ever met.”
Her hand instantly went to the spot on her cheek Mr. Hottie swiped frosting from, only to have her own come away clean.
When he had touched her that first time, sweet baby Jesus, she felt her body light up like Rudolph’s damn nose. She was transfixed by the guy and she didn’t even know his damn name. But when he'd brought his thumb to his mouth to lick off the frosting she somehow managed to get on her face, she had never wished to be a digit so hard.
Then he had to go and call her Cupcake, and she was ready to cave like a poorly baked soufflé.
If anyone noticed that her nipples were doing their best impression of googly eyes, she would blame the cold air that followed each customer pushing through the doors. No one needed to know it was caused by a guy who managed to consume every one of her thoughts—both asleep and awake. Because if her friends got the barest whiff of the pheromones her body released around him, they would go into full-blown matchmaker mode.
A cocky man too sexy for his own good was not on her New Life list at the moment. Nope. First up was finding her own place to live, one where if she had roommates they weren’t a married couple. Romance was so far down her list it wasn’t even in the same notebook, let alone on the same page.
When he mentioned the date, she was so firmly planted in Denialville that she was the flipping mayor and couldn't think of a way to decline on the spot. Now she had two days to figure out how to get out of it.
Lost in her thoughts, she missed Lyle’s next comment, only jolting back to the present when he lifted her left hand to show her a long streak of frosting on the underside of her forearm. There was also a flour handprint on the outside of her thigh, and she could feel a few sprinkles inside her bra. Her creations might be beautifully put together, but she was not.
“I love how even growing up in that stuck-up family you still manage to be so uniquely you. How you didn’t let them browbeat you into becoming another Stepford carbon copy I’ll never know.”
“Almost.” She frowned, thinking of how long she played the dutiful daughter, letting her parents control her life, barely bucking the system for twenty-three years. She shuddered at what it took for her to take her life back in her hands.
“Hey.” Lyle booped her nose, bringing her back to the present. “You got out. That’s all that matters. Now the fun really begins.”
She loved this man so much. There was no better guy she could have picked for her childhood friend to marry. Lyle was four years older than them and the complete antithesis of the highbrow, old money, Daughters of the American Revolution, debutante world she and Kyle hailed from.
She’d never forget the day her friend told her about the guy he met at a hockey game of all places. First her friend bucked the system, choosing to attend Princeton instead of Yale like the rest of the Huntingtons, then he started dating a man. Oh, the horror.
For years, she had known Kyle was gay, but with parents who were the definition of upper-crust elitist and liked to brag they could trace their lineage back to the Mayflower, anyone who didn’t conform to their cookie-cutter way of life was ousted.
And her friend? He ticked off every box on the way to being disowned.
Not follow in family footsteps in choosing a college?
Check.
Marry someone not of appropriate breeding and bloodlines?
Check.
Come out of the closet and declare your love for a member of the same sex?
Double check.
She was there the day Kyle brought Lyle home and announced he was in love—with a man. The entire thing went down in flames like the Hindenburg.
She grew up in a world of custom-tailored suits worth thousands of dollars each, yet none of them looked as good as her mystery man managed to make a hoodie and gym shorts. It was like he oozed sex appeal out of his pores.
Alpha had never been her type. And the guy was pure self-confidence. He was too cocky for his own good. So why did his whispered promise of getting her off—multiple times—make her instantly need a new pair of panties?
She knew she needed to resist him. But every feather-light touch and dirty word caused the fondant around her heart to crack, even as his dominant personality was enough to keep her from risking herself.
“Come on.” Lyle guided her to the back counter where they brewed the coffee. “Let’s get you caffeinated so you can go back to creating whatever masterpiece is next on your list.”
Lyle was the least basic person in existence and would never settle for his coffee shop’s signature fall drink to be the same as everywhere else in the world. So it came as no surprise the mug he handed her was filled with his pecan pie latte, instead of the standard pumpkin spice.
A small moan escaped as she sipped the sugary goodness.
“You know,” he said, quirking his pierced eyebrow as he watched her cradle the mug lovingly, “some say it’s better than sex.”
“I want to say that they are having sex with the wrong people, but I’m more inclined to agree.” She blew across the top before taking another hearty sip. Even as she spoke, her thoughts drifted back to her no-named stud muffin. Now there was a man she’d bet could sex her up better than the latte in her hands.
The last thing—the very last thing—she'd expected was to hear him admit he wanted her as badly as she did him, or for his kiss to be so hot she was sure they would be permanently placed on Santa’s naughty list.
Reindeer really would have to fly for her to admit how much she liked how easily he had controlled her body.
Not the time, Hol. Lyle will sniff out your lust-filled thoughts like a bloodhound if you’re not careful.
Lyle’s eyes narrowed as he watched her drink.
Shit, he’s already got that knowing look in his eye. Abort! Abort!
She was in as much trouble as a snowman in summer.
Chapter Six
Vince used the bottle opener to pop the cap of the Sam Adams Winter Lager, wishing it was for him and not his best friend as he unscrewed the top off yet another bottle of water for himself. Water in one hand and three bottles of beer in the other—one alcoholic and two root—he made is way out of the kitchen and into the living room, passing off the Sam to Jase and the others to his two favorite nine-year-olds in existence.
“Thanks, man.” Jase cheersed his beer against Vince's water, the plastic preventing a satisfying clink.
He dropped into the remaining open leather recliner, a groan escaping as he stretched his sore body out with the footrest. He was five weeks into the twelve-week—and longest—training camp of his career. It came as no surprise his father/coach opted for the longer camp since it was preceding the biggest fight of his MMA career—a chance to fight for the UFC’s light heavyweight belt after Christmas.
“Camp kicking your ass?” Jase asked.
“Oh, yeah.” Another groan slipped out as he adjusted in the leather chair.
“I feel ya, man. Even with preseason, nothing compares to when the season really kicks into gear. I’m finally starting to feel like I’m settling into the grind.”
Jase played defense for the New York Storm and was one of the top players in the entire NHL. Hockey was a physical game, and as an enforcer for his team, his friend wore more bruises weekly than he did.
“Well, I’m honored you chose to spend your night off with me. I love having something to taunt Rock with.”
Jase choked on his beer. “Dude, you’re crazy actively messing with your sister.” He shook his head. “I do everything in my power not to piss JD off. Especially now that she’s pregnant again.”
It was true—things had been a little more intense now that both Coven leaders were knocked up. At least with Jordan, it was the second go-round, so they knew what to expect. Rocky was the wild card.
“You know me.” He shrugged. “I like to live on the edge.”
“That or you’ve taken one too many hits to the head.”
“You’re one to talk,” he tossed back.
“I’ll have you know…” Jase tipped his beer at him. “I rarely shed blood on the ice”—he paused in thought—“at least from a fight. Besides, Rock and Gage had a doctor’s appointment. I figured I might as well hang with you since my sister chose to fly out to meet the team in Chicago while she still can.” He pointed to where the pregame show for the Blizzards/Fire played on the flat-screen.
“Did she fly out with the team?”
“No. The Blizzards are on a stretch of away games. She flew out this afternoon and will stay through tomorrow to handle anything Tucker and whoever else ATS represents in Chicago needs.”
“Good, that means I get a break for a few days.”
“She has you doing lots of promo for the fight?”
“That’s not too bad yet.” He paused to drink some water. “But she’s my liaison with the women’s shelter. Hell, JD is the reason I even started teaching the self-defense classes in the first place. Without her, I wouldn’t be in the position I am now.”
“You mean as one of the sponsors for the new shelter?”
“Yup.”
Vince and the Donnellys—twins Jase and Jordan plus their older brother, Ryan—were working with another organization to build a new women's shelter. Jordan had been attacked by an abusive ex-boyfriend a few years ago, which gave all of them some firsthand experience with what some women dealt with.
Though he made plenty, thanks to Jordan's public relations company landing him lucrative endorsements, the coin needed to fund even a quarter of the shelter was something he wouldn't have until he won a title fight purse.
“How’s hockey going for you two?” Vince asked Jase’s younger brother, Sean, and his best friend, Carlee—Blizzards goalie Jake Donovan’s younger sister—about their youth hockey league.
“It’s good,” Sean mumbled around the slice of pizza he was trying to shove into his mouth.
“Yup. We have the same coach as last year, so it was like picking up where we left off,” Carlee added with more class than her partner in crime.
“Good. I’ll be at your home game next weekend.” The kids brightened at his words. There were times he forgot just how young they were. Both were mature beyond their years thanks to the time they spent with their siblings almost three times their age.
On the television, the hockey game got underway, grabbing everyone's attention as they watched their friends battle it out for the puck. At some point Ray—one of Vince's roommates and a fellow fighter at the gym—entered the room clad in a Fire t-shirt.
“So did Vin tell you about his little secret?” Ray asked Jase during a commercial break.
Jase sat up, rubbing his hands together. “Oooh, do tell.”
Ray’s eyes flicked his way before refocusing his attention on Jase. The guy was planning on stirring up shit. Vince couldn't blame him though—he'd do the same thing if the situation was reversed.
“Well, it seems Lyle and Kyle have hired a new baker for EP, and she is a cutie,” Ray sing-songed the last word.
“Dude, don’t use words like cutie, or you’ll have to turn in your man card.” Deck, Vince’s other roommate and childhood friend, said as he joined them and settled in beside Carlee.
“Oh, are you talking about Holly?” Carlee asked, excitement sparkling in her bright green eyes.
“How do you know about this before me?” Ja
se asked, sounding almost offended by being out of the loop.
“Maddey told us all about her when she picked us up from school today.”
Jase’s attention diverted to where his brother, Ryan, was on a fast breakaway, dekeing around their friend Tucker before sending the biscuit flying for a sweet goal in the five-hole, putting the Blizzards up 1-0 on the Fire.
“How do you know about this girl?” Jase asked Ray.
“I overheard the girls talking about her after they went on their little reconnaissance mission.”
“Oh, shit, you’re screwed, man, if they’re involved. The Coven gathers intel better than the CIA.” Jase didn’t even attempt to choke back his laughter. He was pretty sure he saw a tear leaking out the corner of his friend’s eye. Asshole.
“Don’t you start with me or I’ll make sure to mention to Rock that you’re falling for a bunny,” he threatened, and Jase’s face sobered instantly.
As Jase’s bestie, his sister was fiercely protective of him, having lent her support in the past chasing off some of the more persistent puck bunnies when needed. At the end of the day, all any of the ladies from The Coven wanted was to see each of their friends to be as disgustingly in love as Jordan and Jake were together, and now his sister and Gage. It was becoming an epidemic, one he'd keenly avoided at all costs until he met Holly. Now it didn’t seem like such a bad thing.
That being said, he didn’t need the other guys to start sniffing around her. Time to shut this down before they got any ideas.
Holly was meant to be his and no one else’s.
