Sugar And Spice (Holidays: Valentine)

by Charlotte French

  “My mom and my sister thought it was a waste of time. They still think that. They said I would never make it and that I should become a lawyer like them. So I started working here because Mr. Scott liked what I could do and he promised that I could keep the shop after I’d worked for him for a few years. It’ll take a few more years before I have enough saved up to renovate it the way I want to though.”

  “It’s not a waste of time,” Quinn said.

  Crissy let out a very small breath of relief. Quinn kissed the top of her head and she smiled, leaning into the warmth of his chest.

  “Thank you,” she said. “For saying that.”

  “I’m not just saying it to just say it. You could definitely have this in your future. You know, I have a little saved up…”

  “No,” she cut in immediately. She pulled back to look him in the eye. “I mean, I appreciate the offer but I want to do this on my own. Amy will be the joint owner because we’ve been working together for a long time, otherwise I’d be doing this completely on my own. She always encouraged me to do this and no matter how much my family disapproved of this idea, she told me to hold onto it and never let it go. But otherwise, I need to do this on my own.”

  Quinn brushed his thumb over her chin. “If you’re sure,” he said. “I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries.”

  “You didn’t. And I am truly grateful that you would offer to help.”

  “Would there be a possible open position for taste tester?” he asked.

  Crissy smiled. “I think that could be arranged.”

  ***

  A few days after the snowball fight, Crissy closed up shop. The Sunday crowd had left her body aching with exhaustion as she climbed the stairs to her room. She dropped into bed, kicked off her shoes, and burrowed under the covers.

  A light tapping at her window made her go still. Another tap. Then silence. Crissy waited, counting.

  A clattering noise pelted her window and she sat up, shoving the covers aside. She peered out the window to see Quinn standing there, arm cocked back. She pushed the window open.

  “Are you serious?” she said. “Throwing rocks at my window?”

  He dropped the handful of rocks he had been preparing to throw and shoved his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

  “They’re only pebbles,” he said. “And I tried to be subtle. I didn’t want to break anything.”

  “You’re an adult. We have things called telephones.”

  “Yeah but that’s no fun.”

  “You could use the front door. That always works.”

  “I don’t have a key,” he said with a pointed look.

  Crissy laughed. “So much for subtle.”

  He pulled one hand out of his pocket and held up something small and silver in the moonlight, glinting. A key.

  “I am now the proud owner of a two bedroom house and a kitchen that needs to be broken in,” he said. “Care to do the honors?”

  She grinned. “I’d be happy to. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  Quinn was waiting for at the front door this time when she grabbed her coat and tugged on her shoes. She hooked her arm through his elbow as they walked down the street to Quinn’s house. The door was propped open with a stack of moving boxes, letting in the warm early May breeze.

  “It’s still a mess,” he said. “Just warning you. The guys have been helping me move in all day. I was hoping to get it a bit more…organized. But I couldn’t wait any longer to show you.”

  “Good,” she said, tugging him over the threshold and pulling him closer for a kiss. “The more mess, the better.”

  Quinn snorted in disbelief. “You bake all day every day and your kitchen is always clean.”

  “That’s different and no more arguing,” she said, turning away to head into the kitchen. Several pots and pans were already littering the counter top, along with a small box of silverware and an assortment of knives. Two paper bags full of groceries sat next to the stove and Quinn started unloading the food.

  “I didn’t know what you’d need,” he said. “So I just went for the basics. Flour, sugar, spices, and apples.”

  “That’s about all I need anyway,” she replied, leaning in to kiss his shoulder as he slid the package of sugar towards her.

  Crissy set to making the dough as Quinn wrapped his arms around her from behind. He tried to sneak a small bite of dough and she let him. As soon as he put it in his mouth, he grimaced and spat it out into the sink.

  “Turnover dough is not the same as cookie dough,” Crissy laughed.

  Quinn took a mouthful of water from the faucet. “Yeah, think I learned that the hard way. I’m convinced now that you work nothing but pure magic to make those things taste better than they do now.”

  She pushed a bag of apples over to him. “I need apples thinly sliced if you’re up for it.”

  Quinn hummed and kissed the back of her neck, peeling the collar of her t-shirt aside to get at her shoulder. She closed her eyes and leaned against him.

  “Not fair,” she said. “Not fair at all.”

  He smiled against her skin and gently nipped at her shoulder. Crissy’s hands abandoned the dough and she turned around to face him, pulling him down to her level so she could kiss him until they were both breathless. His hands slid around her waist but she put two fingers against his lips and pulled back.

  “Focus,” she said. “That better not be what you had in mind when you invited me over here.”

  Quinn let out a small growl of frustration and kissed her fingertips. “No, I really did invite you over to break in my kitchen. But you distracted me, smelling like cookies.”

  She laughed and turned around again to continue making the turnovers. He started to move away but she caught his hands and wrapped his arms around her waist again.

  “Stay,” she said. “You’re warm.”

  “But I should do something to help.”

  “You already are.”

  She sliced off a piece of apple and held it over her shoulder for him. He accepted it and nudged her ear with his nose.

  “Why does it feel like you’re doing all the work and I’m doing nothing but being a bum then?” he asked.

  He caught her earlobe in his teeth. The knife dropped from Crissy’s hand and clattered to the counter.

  “Holy shit,” she breathed.

  She could feel him, grinning like crazy against the back of her neck.

  “Changed my mind,” he said. “I could get used to doing work like this.”

  Crissy tried to focus on the turnovers, tried to think of flour and sugar and spices, but all she could think about was Quinn, warm and solid at her back, his hands sliding under the hem of her shirt, his fingers gliding softly over her skin. She abandoned the dough and turned in his arms, took his face in her hands and kissed him hard, hungry. He clutched her around the waist, his hands sliding up her back, supporting her, keeping her from bending too far back against the counter.

  Crissy broke away, her forehead resting against his. Her breath was short and shallow and it felt like her heart would come galloping out of her chest at any second.

  “Crissy?” Quinn asked. “You okay?”

  She nodded and raised her gaze to meet his. “Yes,” she said, not a trace of hesitation or tremble.

  Quinn watched her for a moment and brushed his thumb over her chin. She took his hand and kissed his palm as she pushed back against him, forcing him to retreat a step.

  “But I have one rule I will never break,” she said.

  “And that would be?”

  “No sex in the kitchen.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Crissy, we’ve talked about this. If you’re not ready…”

  She placed her hand against his cheek and kissed him, lightly, sweetly. “I am,” she said.

  “That’s really not why I invited you here. I promise.”

  “Well, things happen that you don’t always plan for,” she said, taking a step forward, pushing Quinn back anothe
r step. He bumped into the table and sent a bag of groceries sprawling across the table and spilling on the floor.

  Quinn placed his hands on her hips and held her at a safe distance. “Are you sure? Absolutely sure?”

  She hooked two fingers in his belt loop and tugged him closer. “Stop asking me that and keep doing what you were doing earlier.”

  He hesitated for only a moment as he studied her before he took her hands and walked backwards into his bedroom. It was a tiny, tiny bedroom, stacked with boxes, some still sealed, others with clothing and shoes spilling out of them, and still others lying empty. But there was a bed, sitting on the floor, with a pile of disheveled blankets and pillows. It was far from familiar for either of them, this new territory they were heading into together, but it was comfortable and it was soft and she had Quinn by her side. Crissy needed nothing else.

  Quinn’s feet hit the bed and he sat, pulling her onto his lap. She braced her knees on either side of his hips as she carded her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes with a sigh. She tipped his head back slightly to hover her lips over his, not quite touching. Until he started to lean forward, looking to close the distance between them but she pulled back with a grin.

  Quinn frowned slightly and opened his eyes. She trailed a finger over the bridge of his nose and over his lips. He raised an eyebrow.

  “You’re a tease,” he said, shaking his head. “You continually surprise me.”

  She hummed with satisfaction as she kissed him, smiling. “I hope I never stop surprising you. I like see the shock on your face too much.”

  She trailed her hands over his shoulders, down his chest, gliding her fingers underneath the hem of his shirt only to slide back up his chest and over his shoulders, pushing his shirt off as she went.

  How long had she wanted to do this? To touch him for hours and memorize every dip and swell of his body beneath her fingertips. To feel the heat of his skin against hers, feel the rushing beat of his heart against her palms. How long had she ached to taste him and smell him and feel him and forget the rest of the world existed for a few short blessed hours?

  Quinn brushed her hair back from her forehead and his hand settled at the back of her neck. His other hand slid around her waist and settled at the small of her back. He bumped his nose against hers and barely brushed his lips across hers.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  Warmth flooding through her chest, surging through every muscle in her body as she looked down at him, this man who made her impossibly happy, as if she would burst from the sheer joy of seeing him smile.

  “I know,” she whispered back, sliding her arms around his neck.

  Slowly, Quinn’s hand wandered from her back and settled at her hip, questing beneath her shirt and up her side. She shivered as goosebumps rippled over her skin but she didn’t pull away and she held his gaze, steady and sure. Still, Quinn didn’t pick up his pace, didn’t rush or hurry anything along. His fingers skimmed over her skin with agonizing slowness as he pushed her shirt up and over her head.

  At the touch of the cool air hitting her skin, she shivered harder this time. A faint blush crept up her cheeks though she knew it wasn’t necessary. She was ready for this. She wanted him. She’d wanted him for a long time and she wasn’t going to wait any longer.

  “I can stop,” Quinn said. “Just say the word.”

  Crissy shook her head. “Absolutely not. It’s just cold.” She paused then added with in a small voice. “And maybe a little shy.”

  He reached up over her and shut the bedside lamp off. The only light in the room was the faint, silver glow from the streetlight outside the bedroom window. Crissy could just make out Quinn’s face in the faint light, enough to be sure of where he was but not enough to make her feel self-conscious.

  “Better?” he asked.

  She nodded and pulled him back down to her. “Much better.”

  He looped an arm around her waist, picked her up, and turned, laying her out on the bed beneath him, as if she was the most delicate, precious thing he had ever touched. The heat of his body surrounded her and she felt the shivers melt away, replaced by faint trembling at his close proximity, at the need to be touched by him and to touch him as much as she wanted to. He trailed a line of kisses from her jawline down the curve of her throat, across her collarbones, his breath soft and warm. Crissy slid her hands up his sides and he sucked in a breath of surprise, contracting away from her touch. She raised her eyebrows.

  “Are you…ticklish?” she asked.

  “No,” he said, much too fast.

  She grinned and laughed softly. “I don’t believe you.”

  Quinn growled a curse under his breath and kissed the tops of her breasts before he pulled her bra lower and took a nipple into her mouth. She let out the tiniest gasp and her head dropped back against the pillows. Her entire body arched against him, a silent plea for more. More of him. His mouth. His hands. Every inch of his body against hers.

  “Not laughing now,” he whispered, glancing up at her with a teasing glint in his eye.

  “Oh, no more talking please,” she rasped. “Don’t leave me hanging like this.”

  He grinned and dipped his head to take her other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue gliding over her breast, his teeth scraping just slightly over the nipple at just the right angle to draw an even louder gasp from Crissy’s lips. Her fingers came up and knotted in his hair, holding him in place until he moved down her stomach.

  When Quinn reached the top of her jeans, he took his time, tracing a finger over the waistband. Crissy’s body was vibrating from Quinn’s mouth. He rested his cheek against the inside of her thigh and looked up at her, watching her reaction.

  In answer, Crissy raised her hips up. Quinn popped the button on her jeans and curled two fingers into the waistband, peeling them off with her underwear and discarding them on the floor without taking his eyes off of her face. Crissy sucked in a breath and bit her lip at how exposed she felt now. It had been a long, long time since she had done this.

  Quinn reached up to lace his fingers with hers, his other hand settled against her hip, his thumb stroking across her skin in a soothing rhythm. He kissed her stomach and down over her thigh until he paused and smiled up at her.

  “Remember, I love you, Crissy. If you want to stop…”

  “I don’t,” she cut in. “Please. I don’t want to stop.”

  Quinn studied her for a moment then nodded and made his way back up to kiss her, hooking an arm around her waist to pull her against his chest. She canted her hips up and her bare thighs grated against the rough fabric of his jeans, sending a red hot aching spoke of raw want through her.

  Quinn pressed the flat of his palm to her hip and pushed her back down against the mattress. She let out a little whine of protest and let her hands wander over the tight muscles in his back instead, desperate to touch him everywhere she could. His hand drifted over her hip and settled between her thighs, cupped against her sex.

  He looked at her, waiting for a moment before he slipped a finger inside her, his thumb resting against her clit. She let out a tiny pleased sigh and closed her eyes, sinking back against the pillows. He stroked his finger into her over and over, peppering her skin with kisses until every inch of her skin was humming. When he added a second finger, his name fell from her lips like a prayer. He worked into her, tightening her body like a string until she started to arch off the bed. Then he pulled back, leaving her achingly empty and she stifled a groan of protest.

  Crissy’s hand came to settle at his side and she looked up at him, a silent question in her gaze. He placed a hand at the curve of her throat and shoulder, his thumb skimming along her jawline, as Crissy made quick work of his jeans. He never looked away from her face as he kicked his jeans away. Crissy let her fingers trail over the head of his cock, more than a little pleased to see the way he shuddered at her touch and closed his eyes. She wrapped her fingers around the full length of him and gave him
one long stroke, feeling him surge at her touch and harden even more if that was possible.

  “Jesus Christ, Crissy,” Quinn hissed, catching her wrist. “I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

  Crissy cupped his cheek in her hand and nuzzled at his throat in response. She loved the smell of his skin, clean and sharp with the lingering scent of cinnamon. But she loved the way he kissed her even more, claiming her mouth completely until she couldn’t breathe and she would have been happy to drown in that kiss alone.

  Quinn broke away to fetch his jeans and pulled out a condom. He tore the packet open and rolled it on, gritting his teeth. Crissy wrapped her arms around him from behind and kissed a trail up his spine until he tipped his head to the side, allowing her more access to his neck. He twisted and eased her back against the pillows, skating his hand down the column of her throat, down between her breasts, and curled around her waist.

  His gaze flicked up to meet hers, searching. Crissy smiled, softly, dream-like and brushed her thumb over his lips.

  “I’m ready, Quinn, I promise,” she said.

  Slowly, Quinn eased into her and he never once took his eyes away from her face. Crissy tried to keep her eyes open, keep looking at him to reassure him, to reassure herself that all this was real, but her eyes drifted closed anyway with every inch he slid into her until Quinn’s hips met hers, fully sheathed inside her. He didn’t move, his breathing shallow and ragged, his fingers digging into her waist as he struggled to regain control again.

  Crissy opened her eyes and tipped her chin up to kiss him, swiping her tongue into his mouth. She pushed her hips up into him, pulling his cock even deeper into her and he groaned against her lips.

  “Please, just move, Quinn,” she breathed, burying her face against his shoulder.

  Quinn set a slow and steady pace, long and deep strokes that made Crissy melt against the bed. How could she possibly have managed to wait so long for this when it felt so perfect to have him inside her, around her, the taste of him on her tongue, the feel of his skin at her fingertips.

  Crissy’s hand drifted down to Quinn’s ass, a silent plea for more, faster, harder. He barely complied, still holding her carefully, gently until Crissy pushed her hips up against him. He picked up the pace as Crissy wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him as she tightened around his cock. His hand slid from her waist to her clit and it took nothing more than the barest of pressure to send Crissy over the edge.