Melt

by Aarons, Carrie

  “So, show me the digs. I want to see where the magic happens.”

  Lacing my fingers in hers, I lead her inside. “You’ve already been in my bedroom.”

  “Har, har, he’s got jokes. Seriously, I’m only here for the ice cream so you better step to it.”

  I show her the boring office side of the building first, explaining where everyone sits. I’m tempted to relive my fantasy on my desk, but know that the more exciting part of the tour is in the test kitchen and machine room.

  Samantha asks questions about how we really got started, what the early days were like, and how we all take chunks of the business now. It boosts my ego to have someone I care about take an interest in what I do, because I’m not really used to this. No one in my life besides my coworkers and possibly Bryan give a shit about what I do … they’d rather have me hocking SUVs and four-wheel drive all day.

  “And this … this is my Bat Cave.” I wave my hand around the test kitchen, all of the gleaming machines and counters greeting us like star pupils.

  “I get it, since you drive an ice cream shaped car. Not as flashy as the classic black mobile, but it’ll do.” She walks around the room, inspecting all of the machines.

  “Sometimes I sit in here until the early hours of the morning, just creating new recipes. Some of them are absolutely terrible.” I can’t help but chuckle, thinking about the salted peanut butter and jelly flavor I’d whipped up.

  One would think it would be delicious, but it was so salty, it might as well have been straight out of the Atlantic ocean.

  “You’re like an evil genius in his laboratory … except, you know, with sugar and cream.” Samantha walks to me, running her hands up my arms.

  Being alone with her, in the silence, after so many hours waiting for it … I kind of don’t know what to do. I feel like a teenage boy trying to decide how to make the next move on a girl.

  “So, let me do some taste testing. That’s the real reason I came here.”

  Moving to the industrial freezer nestled between the granite counters on one wall, I take three containers out of it. I grab a scoop and two spoons, no bowls.

  Samantha hops up onto the counter, her skirt riding up her thighs just a couple of inches. Enough to make me want more, but not enough to give me a full view of her. We haven’t had sex since the one time at my apartment, although I’ve wanted to so badly that my cock physically hurts when I’m around her. It’s amazing how little time one has for themselves when a child is involved.

  “Okay, first one is a bourbon s’mores flavor.” I scoop a little spoonful and hold it out to her.

  Her lips close around it, pulling the ice cream off the utensil, and I imagine her doing that to a part of my anatomy. I watch as her face relaxes and blisses out, and that right there is always the reaction I’m looking for. I crave it on my customer’s faces, but I find that with Samantha, it’s also an aphrodisiac. Watching her enjoy what I’ve made turns me on like a lightbulb.

  “Mmm, give me another.” Her eyebrow raises and I know this is a sexy game for her just as much as it is for me.

  Moving to the next quart, I scoop her a little bigger of a spoonful of pistachio white chocolate. “This one is non-alcoholic, but I think you’ll like it.”

  She darts her tongue out preemptively, the motion making it hard for me to take my eyes from her mouth. And because of that, I don’t see the two drips that fall onto her leg, just below her knee and narrowly missing her skirt.

  “Oops …” She looks down, but then back up and quickly swipes a lick of the flavor off the spoon. “Totally worth the mess, that is delicious.”

  “I think I like you messy, means I can clean up.”

  The air in the room shifts, arousal and heat swamping the space between us.

  I bend at the waist, my eyes never leaving hers. With that gaze I told her exactly what I was going to do, and I could see those chocolate pools melt under the notion that I was about to devour her. My hands grip the bare parts of her thighs, squeezing gently to let her know what’s coming.

  Picking up one toned, smooth leg, I lower my mouth to where the ice cream dripped. And lick it off her skin, all the way up as my hands move her skirt higher.

  This was my test kitchen, and Samantha just happened to be the best flavor I’d ever tasted.

  “That’s one great batch.” I lick my lip where a bit of the ice cream remains.

  She’s scooted back on the counter now, her hands pressed against the gleaming tops and her legs spread a little wider. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair is tossed over both shoulders, her head hanging slightly back. Slowly, she picks up a hand. Dips a finger into the s’mores flavor. And rubs the chocolate ice cream over her collar bone.

  “I think you dropped some here, too.” The gleam in her eyes is pure devilish.

  I walk into her body, getting as close as the counter will allow me and then moving her the rest of the way until I’m positioned perfectly between her thighs. My cock lengthens, the hardness becoming uncomfortable against the closed zipper of my pants. My mouth seeks her skin, licking lightly at her collarbone. Samantha’s scent and the ice cream mix, making my head spin. I don’t ever think I’ve nearly buckled at the knees from a woman, but this one just made me swoon.

  “You taste delicious. I may have to add you to the menu …” I keep sucking on her neck, loving the way it makes her grind harder against me.

  “But only for Jake Brady, party of one.” She giggles on a moan as I push her skirt farther up.

  My hands reach lace, and my cock begs again to be set free. Something about the thin material of her panties under my fingertips sets me off, and I can’t play this slow, teasing game much longer.

  “I should be slow, take my time … but it’s been almost a month since I’ve been inside of you and I can’t play the gentleman …” My voice is hoarse.

  “So don’t. Please, God, don’t.” She shimmies herself on the counter, pulling her underwear free and throwing it to the ground.

  Samantha’s face is focused on my hands as they undo my jeans and pull down the zipper. Her shirt is askew, a button or two undone from where I’d kissed and licked her. Her skirt is hiked up around her waist, that pretty pussy gleaming at me.

  Releasing myself, we both gasp. Me from the bittersweet pain of the cool air on my erection, and her from watching as I make my way towards her.

  “I don’t have a condom …” My steps stutter.

  “I’m on the pill. Hurry …” She licks her lips, her expression wild.

  Arousal wraps its fierce hands around my spine, sending shockwaves straight to my balls. I have to bite my tongue from going buck wild, because I need to at least make this last long enough so that she comes first. But being raw inside of her … Jesus, I may just up and die right here on the spot.

  Hands fist in my hair as I grip her hips, her legs molding around me and locking as they pull my ass in. My jeans hang somewhere between my thighs and knees, our clothes completely askew and in the way. But there is no time, I need her too much.

  “Fuck …” I hiss as I push into her, the sweet zing of being inside of her with no barrier comparing to nothing else I’ve ever felt.

  Samantha’s head drops back, a low moan escaping her lips. I pump my hips, testing the tight slide of her. My cock twitches and my hands shake where they hold her, fury about to unleash from every cell in my body.

  “I’m not going to be gentle.” I bite out the words.

  “Please, Jake, for God’s sake, give it to me.”

  Her forehead presses to mine and then we’re off, all of the pent up sexual frustration that has existed between us for a month being let out. All of the weeks of texting, the nights on the couch, the first awful date and the slow build up afterward … it all comes crashing down as I pump into her frantically.

  We’re shoving each other’s clothes up and aside, her hands fist under my shirt, nails raking across the hair on my chest. One of mine tangles in her hair, pulling it ba
ck to expose her neck so I can feast. My other fingers find her right nipple, pushing the cup of her bra down so it pushes her breast up.

  There is no skilled rhythm here, no slow exploration. We’re racing to the finish line of our climaxes, and I’m going dumb, deaf and blind from the amount of pleasure rocketing through my system.

  “OH GOD!” Samantha lets out a cry, her voice loud and ringing through the empty building.

  She pulses around me and I lose it, the explosion of total gratification numbing my brain to everything but the tip of my cock. Pulling out at the last second, I come in jets onto her skirt.

  I have to lick my lips and grip the edges of the counter, trying not to double over from the amount of oxygen I just lost. My gaze falls to the three melting containers of ice cream next to us.

  We never did make it to that third flavor.

  Twenty

  Jake

  The football completely soared past my head, landing in a bush just feet away.

  "Really, Bryan? Asshole." I shake my head, running to get it and whipping it back at him.

  The ball hits him square in the chest, slipping through his fingers with a thud as the wind gets knocked out of him.

  "Not cool, man. You could have bruised my lungs."

  "Yeah, pretty sure that isn't a thing, and you're fine. Call someone else to kiss and make it better."

  He wags his eyebrows. "Maybe I'll call Samantha. You know she likes me better dude."

  Recently, my girlfriend had spent a rare night at my apartment, and Bryan had invited himself to be the third wheel no matter how many times I tried to signal that he was cock-blocking me. I finally had to tell him to get out or we were going to fuck right in front of him, and then he asked if I had popcorn. The bastard.

  But I was glad that Samantha liked him, they had a similar humor and it was always nice when two of the most important people in your life got along.

  "Keep dreaming, idiot."

  My phone begins to ring, interrupting our immature measuring session.

  "Hello?"

  "Is this Jake Brady?"

  The voice doesn’t sound familiar. “Yes, it is, can I ask who’s calling?”

  “This is Melinda Harkness from the Foodie Conglomerate. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of us, but we saw your truck at the festival last month and were very impressed. After speaking with your marketing associate, we would like to pose to you the idea of opening up a retail storefront here in DC.”

  Ringing. In my ears. That must be it. Because she could not possibly have said what I thought she just said.

  She can’t have possibly just said what I think she said.

  “I ... I know who you are. I’m sorry, I’m usually better at speaking on a professional level, or at all, but I’m a little in shock.”

  Great, I sound like some eight-year-old fan boy meeting Captain America. She’s going to pull the deal from me.

  Melinda laughs. "No worries at all, Jake, I understand what a big deal it is. Hey, I can say that because I own the company who gives culinary artists their dreams.”

  Did she just call me a culinary artist? I may spin around in a circle like a girl who was just asked to prom by her crush.

  “Thank you for understanding.” I clear my throat, trying to be a little more professional. “So how does this process work? What do you need from us? Where do we go from here?”

  Melinda chuckles again. “Well, let’s set up an intro meeting first, and we can answer all of those questions. I’ll have the most important parts of our staff, designers and marketing and business planners, in on the meeting so that we can start discussing everything from paint colors to social media strategy. We are very interested in Cones & Corks … and think it has a lot of potential.”

  My mind was like a speeding train, almost swerving off the tracks. There were so many thoughts, so many ideas that had been sitting dormant, and now I could finally dare to think about them.

  “That sounds great. When works best for you?” I could barely think about the words I was forcing myself to speak.

  Bryan was looking at me like I was standing in the middle of the park humping a monkey. My face probably looked insane, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I was shaking like a leaf.

  “I’ll have my assistant email you to set something up. We’re looking forward to this, Jake. Have a great weekend.”

  “You too, thank you.” I can barely process anything, and have a hard time functioning to even hang up the phone.

  I have to call Alice. I have to call Samantha. I have to slam a shot or fuck the shit out of my girlfriend. There is so much adrenaline pumping through my system right now that I don’t know what to do.

  “Dude, did you just win the lottery or something? Or did someone die? Shit … that is insensitive of me. Fuck, uh … are you okay?” Bryan won’t stop rambling, as he tends to do, and a cackle starts in the back of my throat.

  I start laughing like a lunatic, and I’m pretty sure people in the park are beginning to stare. Jamming my fingers to my phone, I quickly call the one person who will freak out as much as I am.

  After three rings I get her voicemail. “This is Alice. If you’re going to give me money, kindly leave a message. If you’re just trying to be friendly, fuck off.”

  Jesus, good thing I made her get that second cell phone for business calls. Lord only knows how she would have screwed us out of a restaurant deal with a voicemail like that.

  “Hey weirdo, call me back ASAP.”

  I hang up, needing to do a cartwheel or something to burst out the amount of energy coursing through my system.

  “Helloooo?” Bryan snaps his fingers in front of my face.

  “We are getting a storefront …” I trail off, imagining the lines of people standing out front, waiting to try our latest creation.

  “What?” While my friend is supportive, he knows absolutely nothing about the business.

  “A group of restaurant investors wants to give Cones & Corks its own store … we’d have our own location to serve customers from seven days a week instead of just the trucks.”

  I sit, suddenly feeling dizzy. I’m like a damsel in distress … only everything is bright and shiny and I’m a hairy man.

  “Seriously?! That’s awesome. So when does it open?” He sits beside me, lounging so that his face is turned toward the sun.

  I really want Alice to call me back so that we can start discussing, but part of me seizes up when Bryan asks that question. It’s going to take a lot of time and hard work, decisions and compromises and working with construction crews.

  There is even a chance it won’t happen. I’ve talked to plenty of restaurant owners in this city who almost didn’t even make it off the ground, and those who failed inside a year. Doubt begins to creep in, and now I kind of don’t want to talk about … don’t want to jinx it.

  “Well, we have to sit down and have a meeting first. Plenty of meetings actually … I’m sure we’ll meet with designers and marketing teams, not to mention the financial aspect of it. They may only give us a certain amount to play with. It’s all kind of up in the air, and while it’s good, there is a chance a store could never come to fruition.”

  I downplay my excitement, because my words are true. I have to be smart about this. If there is anything I’ve learned from being the black sheep of my family, it’s that you never reveal your cards until all of the hands are dealt. So until I’m standing under the Cones & Corks sign outside of our store, I’m not going to get my hopes up.

  “Still man, this shit is exciting. Hey, maybe I can finally work for you? Store Manager Bryan, that has a nice ring to it you gotta admit.” He elbows me.

  “Yeah, I think not. You can have one free cone a week … that’s it. I’ve got a business to run.”

  He pouts and starts to talk about loyalty, but I tune him out.

  It feels like my life just turned a major corner, and I don’t know if I’m going to walk away free floating, or smack into a closed door
just on the other side.

  Twenty-One

  Samantha

  “This is not on your road trip mix.” I can’t help but laugh as Jake notches the volume higher.

  He gives me a quick glimpse before turning back to the highway and completely belting out a line of “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

  “This is a classic, sing your heart out song … and so yes, it is on the playlist. Don’t judge me, you probably have Radio Disney or something in your CD player.”

  I sip some of my iced coffee and put it back in the cup holder. “Easy with the mommy jokes, stud. And for your information, when Lennon does get out of the car, I have Notorious B.I.G. on repeat.”

  “Of course you do.” Jake rests his right hand on my thigh, his left arm commanding the wheel of his truck in a cocksure, sexy manner.

  We pass a sign telling us we’ve just left Pennsylvania, and I’m into territory that I’ve never ventured to before. You would think that growing up on the East Coast, I would have visited the Big Apple, or somewhere close to it. But I’ve never been more north of Connecticut, and the only time I visited there, I was visiting Mystic Pizza because mom was obsessed with the movie and dad wanted to give her the trip.

  I placed my hand over his where it rested on my jeans, opening the window to breathe in a little of that northern air. It smelled more like fall up here, the last days of August passing through our fingers. Jake was taking me upstate, to his childhood home in Buffalo. I may have been through a lot of stuff in my life, but I was still as nervous as a sixteen-year-old high schooler going to her crush’s house to meet his parents. His family was opening a new dealership and he was apparently expected to be there.

  And while he hadn’t explicitly said it, I could see the tension in the lines on his face. Could feel it in his body language. I was just hoping we could both escape unscathed and spend the rest of the weekend how we planned … at a bed and breakfast on Seneca Lake, touring wineries. Nothing like drunk sex in the last days of summer alone with your boyfriend.