Seduced

by Janelle Denison

  "I'll skip this one." Another box opened. "I already know how bland and boring vanilla is."

  She wrinkled her nose at him. "I can hardly wait to taste whatyou selected. Fruitcake, maybe?"

  That deep, rich laugh again. And then two things assailed her senses at the same time as he took his place in front of her. The delectable fragrance of chocolate, and a burning sensation where he rested his palm on her thigh. The combination nearly short-circuited her central nervous system.

  With effort, she concentrated on the scent wafting beneath her nose. "Chocolate?" she guessed.

  "Ahh, but this isn't your ordinary chocolate cake."

  She inhaled deeply, catching a whiff of something richer and more decadent. Since he wasn't forthcoming with the flavor, she sampled it for herself. Cocoa, a hint of coffee in the frosting and filling, and chocolate mocha candy shavings that all but melted in her mouth.

  "Oh, wow," she murmured appreciatively. She licked a crumb from the corner of her mouth, feeling ravenous and greedy. "Can I have another bite?"

  "I thought you might like that one." He fed her another morsel, and slowly dragged his fingers along her lower lip. "It's called Chocolate Mocha Rapture."

  Rapture.Her eyes rolled heavenward. Oh, yeah, she'd definitely been transported to another plane. Her body felt flushed, drugged, heavy.Aroused.

  He pressed a chilled plastic bottle in her hand and urged it up to her mouth. "Take a drink to cleanse your palate. I don't want anything to taint the next flavor."

  Though the water was cold and refreshing sliding down her throat, it did nothing to extinguish the flames Ryan's "experiment" had ignited. Setting the bottle next to her on the table, she waited anxiously for the next dessert.

  "Now here we have something sweet andvery sinful."

  Her nostrils flared as a luscious aroma consumed her senses. Her stomach rumbled, and she licked her lips in anticipation.

  "Open up," he murmured.

  She did, and groaned as an exquisite flavor filled her mouth. Ripe strawberries. Whipped cream filling. A light, fluffy frosting. Shavings of white chocolate. She was certain she'd died and gone to heaven.

  "More?" he asked, seemingly knowing exactly what she liked.

  She nodded, beyond caring that she wanted to overload her senses with the lush sensuality of Ryan's taste test, or that he'd probably gloat later over proving his point that vanilla was a bland choice. She'd never savored such divine recipes, never felt so seduced by tastes and textures.

  "Please," she said, parting her lips for him. She took such a huge, devouring bite that the cream filling oozed out of the middle. Instinctively, she lifted her hand to stop the flow, and by luck caught the dollop in her palm, but not before she'd smeared it along her chin, too.

  "Argh." The sound of distress caught in her throat. Then, unable to help herself, she laughed with frivolous lightness. "I'm making a mess. I hope you brought napkins."

  "Don't need 'em," he replied, his voice infused with amusement, and something far more mischievous. "I'll take care of the spills and leftovers."

  She assumed he meant to clean up later when they were done, so she wasn't prepared for his more resourceful method. He caught her wrist and she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his warm mouth nibble off the portion of cake stuck to her palm. A hot ache spread through her as his teeth grazed her flesh, and she all but melted when he thoroughly laved her fingers, then flicked his tongue wickedly along the crevices between. And when he was done with her hand, he went to work on her chin, eating the crumbs and licking away the frosting and filling with agonizingly slow laps of his tongue.

  He indulged in her as ifshe were dessert

  "Delicious, and so sweet," he murmured, his low voice vibrating against her cheek.

  A sultry pressure coiled low as she waited anxiously for him to complete his task and make his way to her mouth and kiss her deeply…

  It never happened. As if he hadn't completely turned her inside out with wanting, he moved away and returned to the business at hand, selecting another cake for her to try. This one was Butter Brickle Ecstasy, and it was everything the name implied… pure, unadulterated bliss for the taste buds.

  With each sampling, he tempted and teased her, and she luxuriated in the provocative pleasures he evoked. He used his lips and tongue to clean up the sticky messes she deliberately made, yet always stopped short of kissing her mouth.

  Frustration nipped at her. She wanted to take off the blindfold and participate without hindrance-and entice him in return. He insisted it remain, or the experiment ended.

  He won, because she wasn't ready or willing to forfeit the delightful confections still to come.

  He went on to feed her Fuzzy Navel Cake drenched with peach schnapps that she couldn't seem to get enough of, and a melt-in-your-mouth champagne cake with French buttercream frosting that made her feel giddy and drunk-not on alcohol, but the insatiable desire he was gradually building within her.

  But it was the last selection that completely undid her: moist chocolate cake layered with chocolate mousse, drizzled with creamy caramel, and topped with a cloud of whipped cream and chunks of butter toffee. This cake was gooey, messy, but a sumptuous feast that tantalized her mouth and pleased her belly.

  She moaned deep in her throat as the contents dissolved on her tongue and slid down her throat like honeyed silk. "This cake isincredible. What is it called?"

  He offered her another bite, knowing from previous requests that she wouldn't settle for just one taste. "Would you believe the bakery called it Better Than Sex Cake?"

  She licked the corner of her mouth, not wanting to spare even a smudge of whipped cream, caramel, or chocolate mousse. "Oh, God, they're right." She sighed in undisguised gratification. "This is almost…euphoric."

  "Do you really think it's that much better?" he asked, his tone dubious.

  "In my experience, yeah," she said, realizing too late just how much she'd revealed.

  There was a pause, then, "This cake, no matter how incredible, doesn't compare to the real thing… not when you're with the right person."

  And her one and only lover obviously hadn't been that right person. Suddenly feeling self-conscious under Ryan's scrutiny, she decided it was time to end their playful game, and reached for the blindfold to remove it from her eyes.

  His fingers gently encircled her wrist, stopping her before she could tug the tie loose. His touch was firm, hot, branding her.

  "Not yet," he said in a low, sexy voice. "Maybe you'd like more?" His comment was double edged, giving her the distinct impression that he was referring to more than just feasting on the exotically named cake she'd just eaten. "It's right here, Jessie, in the palm of my hand. Just reach out and take it, and the euphoria can be all yours. As much as you like, for as long as you want."

  Cocooned in darkness, stimulated by his words and the sexual slant of their conversation, Jessica's heart beat erratically in her chest. He'd issued her a subtle dare, a flagrant invitation… beckoning her to give in to her secret desires and experience just how good sex, with the right person, could be.

  She swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat. "I don't want to eat the cake alone," she whispered.

  "I don't like to eat my cake alone, either," he said, humor and understanding mingling. "How about we share it, then?"

  "All right," she agreed.

  Standing between her legs again so she was surrounded by his scent and heat, he took her hand and slowly guided it to the side where the cakes were displayed. She had no idea what he intended, but entrusted herself to him and followed his lead.

  She sucked in a quick, startled breath as he eased her fingers into the soft, silky layers of cake-all the way up to her knuckles. His own hand slid along hers as he encouraged her to play in the ingredients and feel the various textures, all of which had suddenly become very intoxicating to her senses.

  Her entire body tingled with a strange excitement. "This feels…"

&n
bsp; "Arousing?" he suggested.

  Oh, yeah, definitely that.She grinned, not sure she was ready to admit just how much his provocative demonstration was affecting her. "I was thinking more along the lines of squishy."

  He chuckled. "Then maybe we need to alter your way of thinking." He entwined their fingers, tangled them sensuously, using the mousse, caramel, and whipped cream to lubricate the rhythmic slide of his fingers between hers. He leaned into her, so his lips grazed her ear."This is how good sex feels with the right person… slippery, sensual,erotic."

  She bit her lower lip as an illicit, liquid warmth cascaded over her and pooled between her thighs. She had no choice but to believe him. Shewanted to believe that making love could be so thrilling, so impetuous, so rapturous.

  Too soon, he lifted his hand from hers, slowly dragging it out of the cake and away. She flinched in startled surprise when his sticky, gooey fingers touched her mouth.

  "And this is how good sextastes," he murmured huskily as he smeared the luscious concoction along her bottom lip. "Sweet, heady,euphoric. Taste it, Jessie, and see for yourself."

  His sexy words tempted her. Unable to stop herself, her tongue darted out, slowly licking away the confection.

  This is how good sex tastes.

  His promise rumbled through her mind, and suddenly, one taste wasn't enough. "I want more," she said in a low, breathy voice.

  His finger returned, gently pressing down on her bottom lip until they parted and she took him inside the damp heat of her mouth. Removing her own hand from the cake, she grabbed his wrist so he couldn't pull back while she tormented him the same way he'd done to her. Heedless of the mess they were smearing everywhere, she nibbled the chocolate and caramel from his fingers, then leisurely stroked and swirled her tongue along each individual digit in an instinctive, up-and-down rhythm. She felt him shudder and heard him let out a hiss of breath in response.

  She heard him swear, felt him try and tug his hand back, but she held firm. Her hunger had become a rapacious thing, and it wasn't for cake and sweets, but for the need to experienceslippery, sensual, erotic sex. With Ryan.

  She felt his body shift in front of her, wedging himself more intimately between her thighs, and then his mouth was on hers, urgent and insistent, and she relinquished his fingers for the pleasure of his kiss.

  And from there, everything went wild and out of control. He swept an arm around her back and hauled her up against his body, forcing her legs wider to accommodate his hips and the unyielding press of his fierce erection against her aching cleft. They were fused from lips to thighs, and she still wasn't close enough.

  Spearing her cake-encrusted fingers into the warm, thick hair at the nape of his neck, she arched into him, opening her mouth wider beneath his to accept the hot, sexual thrusts of his tongue. One of his hands mimicked her move, cupping the back of her head, threading through the hair that wasn't restrained by the blindfold. The fingers of his other hand caressed her jaw, her throat, and skimmed lower until he held the full weight of her breast in his palm. He kneaded the mound of flesh, searing her with breathtaking heat. His thumb flicked across the diamond-hard nipple straining against her cotton shirt, plucked the tip delicately, and a needy moan escaped her.

  Feverish desire clawed at her, submersing her deeper under Ryan's spell. Being blindfolded and ravished was like being swept up into a dark, forbidden fantasy. The thrill of it was liberating.

  Unexpectedly, he lifted his lips from hers, putting her system in immediate withdrawal. Their breath mingled in rapid bursts, and he threw her off-kilter again when he pressed an achingly light and tender kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Go out with me," he rasped.

  "No," she groaned automatically, so used to rejecting him that it had become second nature.

  He swooped in for another kiss, this one slower than the last, more persuasive, more possessive. "One date," he uttered once he let her up for air.

  Her resolve crumbled a fraction. "Maybe."

  He took her under again, thoroughly consuming her mouth until her lips felt swollen and devoured. He brushed his knuckles over her erect nipples, teasing and tormenting her. He moved on, trailing kisses along her jaw. His fingers pulled down the collar of her turtleneck so he had access to nuzzle her throat.

  She shuddered uncontrollably at the hot, wet glide of his tongue across her skin, and whimpered as he drew her flesh between his teeth for a love bite.

  "Dinner and drinks." His hoarse, urgent whisper scalded her ear. "Say yes, Jessie."

  Dizzy from the blindfold, faint and flushed from his sensual assault, she obeyed his command. "Yes."

  She stiffened, just as the phone on the kitchen counter rang.

  Oh, God, had she really surrendered and said yes to Ryan Matthews?

  The phone pealed again. She didn't move, and neither did Ryan, though she could hear his heavy, labored breathing, could feel the virile heat radiating off him, and smell what she now knew was the scent of goodsex… sweet, heady, euphoric.

  Silently, she cursed the blindfold that had completely stripped away her restraints and inhibitions. Unable to see Ryan, her feminine wants and needs had taken precedence over the fact that this man before her was all wrong for her.

  Her answering machine clicked on, and her voice echoed in the quiet kitchen with a brief outgoing message, followed by a shrill beep.

  "Hi, Jess, it's Brooke," her sister said, sounding upbeat and cheerful. "I received an invitation in the mail today for a New Year's Eve party at Ryan Matthews', and I'm assuming you got one, too. I also wanted to talk to you about Christmas. Give me a call tonight at home or tomorrow at the office. Love ya."

  The line disconnected, and the answering machine clicked off.

  Unexpected guilt swamped Jessica, as if her sister had personally caught her in a naughty act. And she was very naughty for consorting with the enemy, for allowing him to breach her well-constructed barriers. With pleasure infusing her veins, she'd forgotten one important issue while he'd coaxed her into agreeing to go out on a date with him-she didn't like divorce attorneys.

  But she liked Ryan. Wanted him. Desired him.

  His long fingers slipped beneath the band of silk concealing her vision and lifted it over her head. She squinted as the bright kitchen light pierced her eyes and her pupils contracted. Gradually, her gaze focused. On the man standing in front of her, who was watching her guardedly. On the disarray of baked goods around the table. Crumbs littered the table, thefloor, and her jeans. There was cake and filling everywhere-on his shirt, his face, arm, and hands. She hadn't survived the attack, either. Her cheek was sticky, as were her fingers. And she had a white hand-print on her shirt, outlining her breast.

  She dragged a shaky hand through her hair, and winced as her fingers tangled in a clump of frosting stuck to the strands. "What a mess…"she'd made ofthings, her conscience finished for her.

  Oh, Lord, staring into his intense, deep-brown eyes, she was so utterly confused. Undoubtedly, her emotions were tangled up in the passion he inspired, making her forget all the reasons why it would be so foolish to let herself get any more involved with him.

  She fabricated a smile. "You win," she conceded, scooting off the table.

  He stepped to the side out of her way, but continued to eye her cautiously, as if he knew just how skittish she'd become now that she'd had time to assess what they'd done. "What's the prize?"

  "Proving me wrong." Desperately, she tried to affect a business demeanor, which was difficult to do when her body still throbbed and ached for something that would never happen with Ryan.

  Slippery, sensual, erotic sex.

  She pressed a hand to still the fluttering in her belly at that thought, and smudged more frosting on her clothing. She grimaced. She needed a shower, and she needed distance from this man who threatened everything from her sanity to her beliefs.

  "Vanilla is by far the most bland and boring cake I've ever tasted," she admitted, knowing it would be ridiculous for her to sa
y otherwise, not after being such a glutton with the flavors he'd brought. "How about we order three of those cakes. Is that variety enough for you?"

  "Sure." He didn't smirk or exult over the fact that he'd gained her acquiescence. Instead, he tipped his head, regarding her with warm concern. "You pick which ones."

  Ignoring the silent question in his eyes that asked if she was okay, she glanced at the assortment of half-eaten desserts on the table. She was far from okay, but she'd be much better once he left and she scrambled to put her priorities back in line.

  Which didn't includeslippery, sensual, erotic sex with Ryan Matthews.

  Selecting only three flavors was a difficult task, especially when they'd all been so delicious. "How about we go with strawberries and cream, the champagne cake, and butter brickle?" She deliberately kept the names short and precise, without the sexy labels he'd used to describe them.

  "Good choices," he said as a too-intimate smile curved his mouth. "Though I think the Better Than Sex Cake would be a great conversation piece for the guests."

  Unwilling to let him think she couldn't handle ordering that particular cake because of the sensual memories it evoked, she gave an uncaring shrug. "I'll add it to the order."

  An awkward silence fell between them, rife with sexual and emotional undercurrents-neither of which Jessica wanted to bring out in the open and discuss.

  She grappled for an excuse to end the evening with Ryan. "I, uh, need to take a shower. I have frosting and cake everywhere." She waved a hand toward the mess on the table. "Just leave everything and I'll clean it up later. When you're done washing up, lock the door behind you."

  Without giving him an opportunity to reply or a chance to postpone his departure, she made a beelinedown the hall and sought the private sanctuary of her bedroom.

  * * *

  Ryan released a long stream of breath that did little to ease the self-reproach twisting inside him. He wasn't going anywhere, not until he'd cleaned up the messhe'd made of things. With Jessica.

  He'd rushed her. Overwhelmed her. And that had never been his intent. He'd merely meant to show her how fantastic the chemistry was between them, and open her up to the possibility of giving him a fair chance at being something more than a party-planning buddy.