Dammit. Parker wanted to kiss her. He wanted to strip her naked. He wanted to cover her in cinnamon and sugar. But could he do that now? Now that she’d revealed some vulnerability? A soft side? Now that he knew that she needed something beyond learning to bake?
Hell yeah, he could. He cupped her face, bringing her eyes up to his. “Then this is perfect. What I want you to do in this kitchen right now is something I’m guessing you’re really good at.”
He wanted a smile. He wanted sass. He wanted confidence. Instead he got a blush.
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“You’re not so sure that you’re really good at twisting me up and making me want you more than I’ve ever wanted someone?” he asked. “Let me assure you that you are. You really are.”
She gave him a small smile that, if he didn’t know better, was almost shy. “Even when I’m having sex, I’m thinking about a million other things,” she confessed. “I don’t even focus on that.”
Oh, was that all? He took her mouth in a deep, soft, hot kiss, tasting her thoroughly, not letting her move her head, making her hold still to feel and taste him. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes long moments later. She had that faintly dazed look again, and he gave her a cocky smile. “You’re going to focus on this,” he told her firmly. “You’re going to be all-in here, Ava, I promise you.”
“Well, you’ve already got me smelling nutmeg and reading about apples,” she said.
He realized if he’d been expecting something like “oh, Parker, you’re amazing,” he was stupid. He grinned and dropped his hands from her face. But he braced them on either side of her hips, caging her in. “You were smelling nutmeg?”
“I got all the spices out and was smelling them, trying to figure out if I could tell the difference between nutmeg and cinnamon.”
“And?”
She shrugged. “Kind of.”
He couldn’t resist lifting a hand and tucking her hair behind her ear. It didn’t matter if she could tell the difference between nutmeg and cinnamon. She’d tried. “And you were reading about apples?”
“There are so many,” she groaned. “I read about apples for an hour last night. When I should have been doing other work.”
She’d been thinking about him—or at least about baking and the cooking they’d done and the idea of tuning in and really tasting. She’d been focused on that. He felt victorious, he couldn’t lie.
“Sorry.” But he wasn’t. At all. And he knew she knew that.
“And are you aware of the number of uses for that puff pastry stuff?” she asked. “It’s crazy. I need to buy stock.”
He laughed and cupped her cheek again, unable to help it. He ran his thumb over her jaw. “You’re distracting the hell out of me too,” he told her.
“I haven’t taught you anything new about cooking or food,” she said.
“But you’ve taught me some new things about you.” He realized it was true even as he admitted it to her. She fascinated him.
Her lips parted and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Her breathing was coming a little faster now.
“Where are Brynn and Cori?” he asked.
“With Noah and Evan. Somewhere else. Not here. The front door is locked.”
Anticipation tightened his body. “Ava,” he said, his voice low.
“Yeah?”
“We’re not going to bake a pie today either.”
She nodded. “I know.”
So he kissed her. Or she kissed him. It was hard to really tell who started it this time. But they were both fully participating once their lips touched.
Ava’s hands ran from his shoulders to the back of his head. His hands slid to her ass, pulling her closer. But not close enough. With a little groan of frustration, Ava grasped her skirt and she began bunching it up. Which caused her to wiggle against him, eliciting a groan of his own.
But a moment later, she pulled back. “Dammit.”
She pushed him away, and Parker took a step back but opened his mouth to protest. Or beg.
But his words died on his tongue as she reached behind her and he heard the rasp of a zipper. She wiggled on the countertop again, this time pushing the skirt down rather than bunching it up.
A moment later, she sat on the counter in a white silk blouse and peach panties.
Parker blew out a quick breath. “Damn.”
She was gorgeous. The pale peach panties matched her skin almost exactly. But it wasn’t her delicious curves or her long silky hair that he wanted to wrap around his fist or the hard nipples pressing against her blouse as if begging him to touch. It was the way she was looking at him. Like this—this kitchen, him—was all there was in her world right now. And having Ava Carmichael’s full focus was huge. He wasn’t going to waste one second of it.
Her skirt dropped to the floor and Parker had to grin. That was one way to finally get flour on one of her skirts.
“What?” she asked.
Her smile was almost playful, and he absorbed that as he stepped forward. “I’m determined to get you messy, Boss,” he told her. He was smiling, but he was dead serious.
She pulled in a shaky breath. “I think I can be okay with that.”
“Oh, yes you will be.”
He reached for the apple pie filling she’d made. He dipped two fingers into the glass bowl and lifted them to his mouth. He licked the tip of one finger, watching Ava’s cheeks flush.
“It’s not bad actually,” he said.
“It’s too runny.” Yeah, her voice was definitely breathless.
“Ah, yes, well there’s that.” He held his fingers up, letting the too-runny filling drip. And land on the V of skin revealed by her blouse.
Her breath caught, and Parker watched the filling slide slowly toward her cleavage.
“It also needs a little more sweetness,” he told her. He met her eyes. “Unbutton.”
She did. He’d really thought she might resist. Or sass him a little, at least. But all she did was lift her hands and open the buttons down the front of her shirt.
Maybe she could read his surprise, because she smiled as she shrugged out of it. “Don’t want to get it dirty,” she said.
He gave a little growl and swiped the shirt from the counter where it pooled behind her. He dropped it on top of her skirt. “You’re not leaving this kitchen without being a little rumpled…and a lot sticky.”
He lowered his head and licked up the trail of pie filling on her chest.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she arched closer.
He wanted to rip the peach bra and panties from her body and take her just like this, spread out on the countertop of the kitchen she hated. He wanted her to walk into this room and smile. And if fucking her on the counter was the way to that, well, he was a giver like that.
But there was something about her not liking food, not appreciating the tastes and textures and aromas, that drove him crazy for some stupid reason. He hadn’t fully analyzed it. He was vaguely aware that it had to do with how much he loved food and how he felt a connection with Ava he didn’t feel with anyone else and how he wanted those things combined. But he didn’t want to go into it any further than that. He did, however, have an idea about how to increase her appreciation for being in the kitchen and some of the food he loved.
He ran his tongue over her bottom lip and then pulled back. It took an extra couple of seconds for her eyes to open. He liked that. Probably too much.
“Close your eyes again,” he told her.
She did, without question.
“Now open your mouth.” He picked up the bottle of ground cinnamon and shook a little of it on her thigh. It was so light, she didn’t even feel it, but when he wet the end of his finger and touched it to her leg, she wiggled. He lifted his finger to her mouth. “What is this?” he asked.
She frowned. “Cinnamon.”
“Good.”
Then he picked up a pinch of white sugar and sprinkled it over her bottom lip. Some of
it fell against her chin and chest, sparkling against her skin. “How about this?”
She licked her lip, her eyes opening. “I’m practically naked here and we are going to cook?”
“We’re going to taste,” he corrected. “And yes, Ava, having you practically naked is going to be a huge part of that. Open your mouth.”
Her eyes widened slightly at that. “You’re going to make me like this food by seducing me with it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s pretty arrogant of you.”
“Yes.” He dragged an apple slice over the cinnamon on her leg.
And she opened her mouth. Her eyes stayed open though. Her lips parted and he slid the apple inside. With her eyes locked on his, she licked the apple first. Parker watched her, not reacting. He was going to make this sexy, hot, and something she would think of every time she smelled cinnamon from now on. But he was not going to rush it. Or let her rush it.
She bit into the apple and chewed, watching him.
“I want you to have a really positive association with ingredients that you’re going to be spending a lot of time with,” he said huskily, popping the rest of the apple into his mouth.
“Well, that’s a lofty goal,” she said. There was a haughty note in her voice, but there was definitely heat in her eyes.
“Well, Ava,” he said, mimicking her tone. “I can promise you that having me suck cinnamon sugar off your nipples and lick melted butter and brown sugar from your belly button will make you feel differently about them.”
He licked his finger and dragged it over her collarbone where some of the sugar clung. Then he lifted it to her mouth. Her hot, soft lips closed around the tip, and her tongue ran over the pad of his finger, sending bolts of heat through him.
Slow, he reminded himself. Slow and thorough.
“What about the apples?” she asked.
“Oh, you’re going to love the apples.”
She studied him with her bottom lip between her teeth as visions of apples and Ava danced through Parker’s mind.
Finally, she said, “Can we use ginger too? Right now, I’m not a big fan.”
His body tightened. He cleared his throat. “We are going to make you love ginger.”
“Then let’s get on with it.” She reached behind her and unhooked her bra.
The most gorgeous breasts he’d ever seen were suddenly on display. Within touching distance. Within tasting distance.
“Ava—” He didn’t know how to finish that statement. It wasn’t even a statement. It was a…feeling. An out-loud feeling.
Ava reached for the cinnamon and as Parker watched, his body temperature climbing, she sprinkled the spice over her breasts.
He made a sound—part groan, part growl—and started to reach for her.
She put up a hand to stop him. “Hold on.”
She then tried to kill him by licking a finger, wetting one nipple, then sprinkling sugar that clung to the hard tip.
“Okay, now you can—”
He didn’t let her finish that thought. He leaned in, put one hand on the back of her neck, and one on her hip. She gave a little squeal as he pivoted her onto her back on the countertop. “Okay, Boss, how about you let me do some work for you now?” He lowered his head and kissed her.
Her foot kicked an apple to the floor and upset the bowl of melted butter. He smiled against her lips and used one hand to bend her knee so she wouldn’t knock anything else over. This was no time for breaking things. “The only thing coming apart right now is going to be you.”
She gave a little moan, and he nipped her bottom lip before moving down to her neck.
“Kissing you is as delicious as I thought it would be,” he told her gruffly.
“The sugar helps,” she said, breathlessly as he spread his palm over her stomach. The muscles quivered under his hand, and her chest rose and fell rapidly.
“You’re way sweeter than sugar.” He kissed along her collarbone. “I could eat you all day.”
She gasped, and he kissed down her sternum. Her skin was silky and sweet with a hint of spice, but none of it had anything to do with the cinnamon or sugar.
She laughed breathlessly. “Sweet is definitely not an adjective many people use for me.”
“That’s because you don’t let them see it,” he said, moving a hand to cup her breast, running his thumb over the tip. “You think sweet is already taken.”
“What do you mean?” she asked even as she arched into his touch.
“Cori gets to be the fun, free spirit who gets to play, and Brynn gets to be the sweet, bookworm who gets to experiment. You think that leaves perfectionistic, workaholic for you.” He didn’t know if the tension in her body was from what he was doing to her nipple or because of his words, but he circled the tip with the pad of his finger, rubbing the sugar granules against the sensitive skin. She gave a little whimper. “But I’m going to make you let go of that, Boss,” he told her sincerely, watching her face as he played with her body. Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils wide, her lips parted with her fast breathing. “I’m going to show you how fun and freeing it can be to let go and get messy and that it doesn’t have to be perfect to be…perfect.”
“You like to have things just right,” she said, her voice soft, her legs moving restlessly against the countertop.
“I do. Strange that you make me want to get a little messy too.” And he didn’t mean with the apple pie ingredients. And it definitely was strange. Very. He’d always thought he should be with someone sweet, who would go along with all of his planning and organizing, who was laid-back and would let him just do his thing. Instead, this woman, who hardly fell into line and was the opposite of easy-going, was making him want to throw out the plans and see what surprises would come up.
Ava pulled him down and kissed him. He didn’t know what she was thinking or feeling exactly. Maybe she just felt like it was too difficult to make eye contact at a moment like this. But he kissed her with feeling. What that feeling was exactly was the question.
“No one else has ever said anything like that to me,” she said softly as she let him up for air.
He knew she meant the other men she’d been with. “That’s because you’ve been hanging out with assholes who hide their loser side in suits and ties,” he told her, that affectionate feeling welling up again.
She gave him a small smile. “They like that I’m tough.”
He bet they did. Because they liked the idea of getting close to someone powerful like Ava. He understood the appeal of thawing the ice queen. He’d had similar thoughts, frankly. But Ava’s icy layer was thin, and there was a lot of warmth underneath. It didn’t take much to break through the frosty outside. Because it was a cover. And he liked the idea that none of the New York jerks had ever found that out. “None of them ever met your sisters, did they?” he asked. He knew Cori was only in New York for a couple of days a month and that Brynn spent most of her time in her lab.
She seemed surprised that he’d figured that out. “No.”
He liked that. He loved it in fact. “Then none of them have really known you,” he said. “Without knowing your sisters, they don’t see all of you. You are, most definitely, kick-ass. But you’re more than that.” Did he know that because of something Rudy had told him? Or had Evan or Noah shared something that made him understand this about Ava?
But he realized that if Rudy hadn’t really seen Ava with her sisters, then he hadn’t really known her either.
He knew as soon as she asked, “Why do you think that?” how he knew what he did about Ava Carmichael.
“Because you still come to this pie shop every day and try to make pies from scratch,” he said. “You hate this place. It makes you feel incompetent. It frustrates you. It confuses you because you thought you knew and understood your dad, and this place makes you question all of that. You found a loophole for making the pies that would meet that stipulation, and you could just leave it at that. But you come in here every day anyw
ay, because the shop makes your sisters happy. And it’s gotten Cori to settle down and Brynn to come out of her bubble. So you’ll sacrifice feeling good, you’ll put up with the frustration and confusion for yourself, because that’s what you’ve always done. You don’t get to have fun and softness and sweetness because you’re making sure they have it. But it’s not because you’re kick-ass, Boss,” he said huskily. “It’s because you are soft and sweet.”
He took a breath, his hand just resting on her breast now. It was an intimate position, but not as lust-filled as before. It still felt amazing in his hand, of course, but this was very different. She was mostly undressed, while he had all of his clothes on. His hands were on her body. And he was revealing the things he’d figured out about her. He would put good money down on the fact that this was something new for Ava.
She blinked rapidly and took a deep breath. Then she said, “For God’s sake, kiss me.”
10
She pulled him down into a hot kiss again. This time it was hungry, her mouth opening under his almost immediately, her back arching and her hand moving to cover his. She pressed it more firmly against her breast and stroked her tongue against his.
Parker could hardly argue with a woman who so clearly knew what she wanted. At least in this moment. And the fact that what she wanted was him, got him fully on board instantly. He kissed her deeply as he plucked at her nipple, then slid his hand to her stomach as he lowered his head and licked, then sucked the cinnamon and sugar from her skin. She moaned, and he moved to the other nipple. She took his hand again and moved it down to the peach silk of her panties. She was hot and wet as his finger coasted over the fabric between her legs, and he had to suck in a deep breath as he returned his finger to press against her clit. She gasped his name and he circled, relishing the way her hips bucked up closer to his touch.
Parker had to grit his teeth and force himself to remove his hand.
“Parker,” she protested.
“Patience, sweetheart,” he said gruffly. He reached to swirl his finger through the melted butter spilled on the counter, then dipped it into the brown sugar. He lifted it to her mouth.
High Heels and Haystacks: Billionaires in Blue Jeans, book two Page 14
