Pleasured By You

by Steph Nuss

  He had that impressed look on his face that told me he found her just as appealing as I did. Fuck, I thought.

  “She’s hot,” I said, trying my best to play along. In the past, Cash and I talked about women all the time. I just didn’t want to talk about Bayler with him, but if I acted like I wasn’t interested in her, that gave him dibs on her. And like hell that was happening. She was already mine.

  “Yeah, she is,” he said, nodding. “She has a killer body, and those green eyes . . . man, they’re just like their mom’s. Hell, even Mrs. Jennings is hot for an older woman. Am I right?”

  I nodded silently. Bayler did look a lot like Mrs. Jennings. She had the same green eyes and blond hair, but their personalities were completely different. Where Mrs. Jennings cared about what her friends thought or how well business was doing, Bayler cared about being independent and having fun.

  “Since the wedding’s over, do you think she’s still off limits?” Cash asked, taking another drink of his water.

  “I’m pretty sure she’s still off limits,” I answered. I wasn’t sure if that was true, but according to me, she was definitely off limits to him and every other guy.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because she’s Carter’s sister.”

  “So,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Maverick knocked up his other sister.”

  I laughed. He had a point. “But Maverick’s not like us. He’s a good guy. He’s in love with Harper.”

  “I could love Bayler,” Cash said, making me laugh even harder. “But she doesn’t look like the type of woman who needs love. She looks like a man-eater, like she’s probably going to make us regret ever meeting her.”

  “Probably,” I laughed, nodding along with him. He was wrong though; I’d never regret meeting Bayler Jennings. Until she came along, no woman had ever held my attention for longer than a night. She’d been on my mind since New Year’s. I couldn’t regret someone who had that much control over my thoughts.

  “Did you know she’s moving to New York?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “She told me she has a few job interviews at some bakeries lined up this week. Did you tell her about your bakery?”

  I sighed and shook my head. “It’s not my bakery, Cash.”

  “Okay, your mom’s bakery,” he said, correcting himself.

  I swallowed hard as I remembered the first business I ever inherited. “No, I didn’t tell her about it.”

  He looked over at me sharply and rolled his eyes. “Why not?”

  “Because she already has jobs waiting for her,” I snapped, “And they’d be stupid not to hire her. Plus, I’m not even sure we’re hiring. You know Grams runs the bakery, not me.”

  “Sorry I fucking asked, man,” he said, shaking his head. “What if she doesn’t get any of the jobs she has interviews with?”

  Now, it was my turn to glare at him. “She’ll get them. Did you eat any of the wedding cake yesterday? It was fucking delicious. She won’t have a problem getting a job.”

  “Ah, I get it,” Cash said discreetly, wearing a shit-eating grin. “I know why you don’t want her working for you.”

  “Get what?” I asked, completely confused. “I don’t even know if we have any job openings.”

  “No, it’s your rules,” he said, pointing at me. “You don’t want her to work for you because that means sleeping with her is off the table. You don’t fuck the women who work for you.”

  He was right. That was one of my rules, and that was also one of the reasons I never told her I owned my mom’s bakery. I didn’t want Bayler working for me. Work and pleasure never mixed well together.

  “Am I right?” he asked. “You don’t think she’s off limits anymore. You just want her for yourself.”

  “So what if I do?” I asked, smiling back at him. “Am I going to have to fight you for her, or are you going to stay out of my way?”

  “No,” he said, raising his hands in the air. “She’s all yours. I just can’t wait to watch her chew you up and spit you out.”

  “Like hell that’ll happen.”

  ***

  After a few hours, the pilot came over the intercom to tell us we were preparing to land. Maverick and Harper came out of the bedroom looking less tired than when they went in. The girls packed up their electronics, and Justin put his book back in his bag. Cash buckled into his seat again, as did everyone else, and then he smiled at me.

  “Okay, so I’m supposed to say something like, ‘think of something positive, Fletcher,’” he said, mocking Elly’s therapist tone.

  It made me laugh. I thought sitting by him would only annoy the hell out of me, but it turned out, he actually made the flight go by more quickly with his nonstop chatter. After he figured out what I wanted with Bayler, he dropped the subject, just like I figured he would and went on to talk about sports. That was one of the best things about Cash. He may talk a lot, but he knows when to drop a topic. He also knows when to keep his mouth shut, but I thought I’d remind him just in case.

  “Hey,” I said quietly, making sure no one else was listening. “About what we discussed earlier . . . just keep that to yourself, okay?”

  “Oh, I know, man,” he said, shaking his head. “I won’t say anything to anyone. It’s none of my business.”

  “Thanks,” I said, relaxing into my chair. I took a deep breath and rested my head back against the seat. I could feel the plane start to descend and my body immediately tensed. I closed my eyes and dug my fingers into the armrests. Think about something positive. Think about Bayler.

  “Fletcher,” Harper said softly, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “What?” I asked, my eyes still shut.

  She covered my hands with hers. “Hold my hands instead of the armrests. Maybe that’ll make you feel better.”

  “No,” I said, opening my eyes. She was leaned forward in her seat, and that made me even more uncomfortable because we were supposed to be sitting upright in our seats. “Please sit back in your seat like we’re supposed to. I don’t want anything happening to you and the baby.”

  “Okay.” She sat back and shot Maverick a sad look. He smiled weakly at her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  I could be an asshole when it came to flying, but that was only because I was on high alert. Everyone who knew about my phobia knew that. They didn’t try to intervene. They didn’t try to comfort me. With the exception of Elly, I really didn’t let any of them try either.

  Maverick slipped his hand into Harper’s and then looked over at me. “You haven’t guessed a baby name in a while.”

  “I know,” I said, trying to think of some girl names.

  “What about Jayden?” Cash guessed.

  “Oh, that’s cute!” Tessa said.

  Harper laughed lightly but shook her head. “It’s not Jayden.”

  “Dammit,” Cash said, shaking his head. “This is hard.”

  It was hard. Even Maverick wouldn’t name his little girl something normal like Ashley or Brittany. We had to think outside the box for girl names. “Um, what about . . . Grace?”

  “I like Grace,” Harper said, smiling brightly at me. “But that’s not it.”

  “Damn you,” I quipped, smiling back at her. She was enjoying the hell out of this.

  “Ooh, I got one!” Tessa announced. She looked at the four of us with a big grin on her face and then moved her hands in the air like she was showing off the name. “Lainey.”

  “Nope,” Maverick said, proudly rubbing Harper’s belly. “I like it, but that’s not it.”

  “Ugh!” Tessa complained, pulling her phone out of her purse. “Thank God for baby name websites!”

  “It’s not on any of the websites!” Maverick said, laughing.

  “Put your phone away,” I said, staring at Tessa. “They’re supposed to remain shut off until we land. They can fuck up the plane’s navigation and communication systems.”

  Tessa looked around at everyone like I was crazy
and then smiled at me. “Um, Fletch, we have landed.”

  “What?” I asked nervously, looking around in disbelief. I pulled up the window shade and she was right; we had landed safely. How did I miss that?

  “Congrats! You survived another flight, buddy,” Cash announced, patting me on the shoulder.

  “Fuck you,” I laughed, shaking my head as I unbuckled my seat belt and got up. Walking down the stairs of the plane, I smiled at the ground.

  Hello, land.

  Chapter Four

  “How do I look?” I asked, standing in front of Harper.

  It was the Wednesday after Carter and Elly’s wedding, and I was officially living in New York and about to go to my first job interview at my top choice of bakeries. The place was called Batter Up. It had a small-town vibe to it in a big part of the Bronx. I’d been in there once before when I’d visited Harper and Carter, and fell in love with the place. The workers were nice. The food tasted fresh. With its cream-colored walls decorated in vintage men’s and women’s baseball decor and its location near Yankee Stadium, it was absolutely perfect in my eyes. Plus, it had a great reputation among the locals and tourists. Batter Up had been in business for over twenty years and hadn’t had a bad review since opening its doors. It was the bakery to work at in New York, and I had an interview with Mrs. Theodora Winger, the manager.

  “You look great!” Harper said, eying my outfit. “I love that coral color on you.”

  “Do I look professional?” I asked, looking back in the mirror. My blond hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. I had on a sleeveless coral blouse, a pair of black skinny dress pants and my lucky, black Jimmy Choo pumps. Yes, I had a pair of lucky heels. They were simple, black pumps that went with almost every outfit I owned. They were the heels I was wearing nearly every time I got myself out of a speeding ticket. They’d never had anything spilled on them. Never once had a heel break on me in the years I’d owned them. They were the heels that never made my feet hurt. They were my lucky heels; I had to wear them to my job interview of a lifetime.

  “Of course you look professional,” Harper said, smiling back at me. “You’re going to kill it!”

  I took a deep breath and let it go. “God, I hope so.” I turned around to face her and grabbed my purse. “I want this job so bad, H!”

  “You’ll get it!” she said in a cheerful voice. “And then we’ll go out to celebrate!”

  I laughed. She couldn’t drink being pregnant, but she’d make sure we celebrated nonetheless. “Thanks.”

  “Okay, now get out of here so you’re not late!” she said, shooing me out of my apartment. “Imani is waiting for you downstairs, and I don’t want to hear anything from you about using my driver. You’re using her today. End of story.”

  “Okay,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. I’d told her I could just take a cab, but she wasn’t having any of that. “Are you just going to stay here?”

  “Yep,” she said, nodding toward my last two boxes of stuff I still needed to unpack. “I’m going to finish unpacking for you, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said, rolling my eyes at her.

  “I want to,” she insisted, shooting me a glare. “Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t help my little sister move into her apartment. I’m thrilled to have you here in New York with us. Now, go kick ass at your interview!”

  “Okay, okay, I’m going!”

  ***

  When Imani pulled up to the bakery, I double-checked to make sure I had everything I needed. Copy of my resume? Check. Portfolio of all my cake designs? Check.

  “Good luck, Bayler!” Imani said from the front seat.

  “Thanks, Imani,” I said, before opening the back door.

  I stepped out into the June heat and smiled up at the Batter Up logo on the outside of the building. Walking into the bakery, I was greeted by the delicious smell of cake and frosting. This type of environment was where I excelled. Taking recipes and making them my own was what I loved to do. Making clients’ dreams come true by creating the perfect masterpieces for them was my specialty.

  A woman with short brown hair greeted me. “Hello, welcome to Batter Up, what can I get for you today?”

  “I have a meeting with Mrs. Winger,” I said, smiling back at her.

  “Oh, you must be Ms. Jennings,” she said politely, waving me forward. “Come on back. I’ll take you to her office.”

  “Thank you.” I followed her behind the counter to the back, where four women stood at separate stations working on different projects. They each had their own space. During my internship, I had to share a space with some bitch who couldn’t clean up her station after she was finished. To have my own place equipped with appliances just for me would be a dream come true.

  We stopped when we got to a white door and the woman knocked.

  “Yes?” I heard a woman’s voice call from the inside.

  The woman opened the door slightly. “Ms. Jennings is here to see you.”

  “Let her on in!” she said, “I’m ready for her.”

  “Okay.” She turned back to me and smiled again. “She’s ready for you.”

  “Thank you,” I said, walking into the office.

  Behind the desk sat an older woman with auburn gray hair. She had glasses perched on her nose and an apron over her blouse and jeans.

  “It’s really nice to meet you, Mrs. Winger,” I said, holding my hand out to her.

  She shook it and pointed to one of the chairs in front of her desk. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Please have a seat.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh, and you can just call me Teddy,” she said, smiling back at me. She flipped through some papers on her desk and pulled out my resume. Placing it in front of her, she scanned it and then moved her glasses to the top of her head. “I was very impressed by your resume, Bayler. Culinary school and then an internship at Darlene’s in Dallas.” She laughed at the mention of my previous boss. “Darlene isn’t an easy person to work for.”

  I laughed lightly and kept my thoughts to myself. Darlene was a bitch and I was thankful my internship with her was over. Her bakery might have been one of the best in Dallas, but her attitude was one of the worst. “I’m thankful I got through it.”

  She laughed heartily and leaned back in her chair. “So, tell me a little bit about yourself. How’d you get into baking?”

  I took a deep breath and smiled. “I owe my love for baking to my Grandma Ceci. She started teaching me how to bake when I was just a little girl, and my love of the kitchen stemmed from there. She’d give me new recipes to try, and I’d take them and make them my own. She always says, ‘If the kitchen isn’t a mess afterwards, you’re not doin’ it right, honey.’”

  Teddy laughed, nodding at that last statement. “She’s got that right. The messier, the better!”

  I laughed and continued. “But my love didn’t just stop at baking. I love decorating, too. I excelled at art in school, so I started taking my desserts and turning them into art projects. During culinary school, I learned how to work with different types of frosting and how to use the different shaping tools to get my designs just right. When it comes to baking, learning never stops. There’s always something new to discover and something new to create, and I think that’s why I love it so much.”

  “I agree,” she said, nodding again. “There’s always something new to bake. I, too, love baking and I passed that love on to my daughter. Batter Up used to be Tatum’s. She opened it right after she married Michael. They were crazy about the Yankees, and she wanted to open a bakery right down the road from their stadium. It was expensive even back then, but Michael made it happen for her.” She paused for a moment and gathered herself. “After their accident, I couldn’t stand the thought of her dream dying with them, so I kept the place going. But my grandson owns it; he inherited it after they passed away.”

  She pointed to a picture of a little boy on her desk. He
had short blond hair and bright blue eyes that looked hauntingly familiar.

  “He’s a cutie,” I said, smiling at his picture.

  “In that picture, yes,” she said, holding it up. “Now that he’s older, he’s much more ornery than he was back then.”

  “Aren’t all men that way?” I asked jokingly.

  “Yes,” she laughed, nodding. “Yes, they are.” She pulled on her glasses and studied my resume for a moment before sliding them back on her head. “I saw on your resume you were involved with the Big Brothers Big Sisters program in Dallas. Is that something you’d like to continue doing here in New York? My grandson’s involved with the program, too. I entered him in the program after his parents passed away, but now he’s a Big. If you’d like, I could have the director contact you. They’re always looking for more volunteers.”

  “Of course, that’d be great. I’d love to continue helping with the program here,” I said, sincerely. “I’m really sorry about your daughter, though. I think she’d be happy that you kept the bakery alive.”

  “Me, too,” she said, placing her grandson’s picture back on her desk. “You actually remind me of her. You have that same drive and passion for baking as she did. I know she’d want—”

  A knock on Teddy’s door interrupted her and then it opened.

  “Grams!” I heard a familiar voice say.

  No.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  My stomach tightened and the hairs on the back of my neck stood as Fletcher Haney sauntered into the office and gave Teddy a hug.

  “Fletcher! It’s good to see you,” she said, holding him in a tight embrace. “But I’m in the middle of an interview.”

  “I’m sorry for interrupting,” he said, breaking away from her. His eyes moved over to me, and I watched shock wash over his features as he took me in. He swallowed hard and pinned me to the seat with his arrogant gaze. I was too angry to look away from him. He was wearing a soft blue dress shirt, the top button undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and black dress pants. It also pissed me off how good he always looked. Couldn’t he just look like shit for once?