“So beautiful.” I kissed a line from the hollow of her collarbones down to her navel, but didn’t go any further south, knowing she was on the verge of begging me.
Instead, I peered inside the box and found a small container of red syrup. I prayed it was raspberry sauce when I opened it. The scent of ripe berries enveloped me as I drizzled some over her belly and tits. Thick, red dots covered her nipples and slowly slid down over the slope of her breast to drip on her skin below.
I poked out my tongue to catch a drop and then kissed her, her own taste mixing with the berries.
Damn, I loved the way she tasted.
Her hands wandered over my arms and chest. She reached over for the frosting and circled her boobs with chocolate.
“You’re going to kill me.” I leaned down and licked her skin clean. I sucked on her nipples a little harder than was nice, but I wanted to make sure they were clean.
“Oww… mmm,” Diane moaned and turned her head. Another finger-full of frosting found its way onto my skin, this time on my neck.
I cocked my head to allow her access to lick it off. She bit my ear lobe before lying back down.
Two could play at the teasing game.
I stepped back from the counter’s edge and slid my hands down her thighs. Grabbing the sauce, I poured a thin line from one knee to the other, pausing to let some pool between her legs. Starting at her right knee, I licked up the sauce, letting my beard drag along her skin where my tongue had just been. I had to use my hands to still her squirming as I tortured her.
I let my breath hover over her center but didn’t lick up the sauce there before I moved to the other leg and my sticky path to her knee.
“John …” Diane’s voice was tense, almost annoyed.
I smiled into her thigh to hide my amusement. I knew she’d get me back, but this was too much fun to stop.
When I reached her knee, I lifted up her leg and rested her calf on my shoulder. Her eyes slowly opened and she glared at me. Or tried to glare. The lust and need I saw there clouded out her pretend anger. I nipped her calf and bent forward to finish the job.
Every inch between her thighs was covered in raspberry sauce, and it pooled on the counter beneath her. This would be messy.
Not that I complained.
I licked and sucked, covering my beard in sweet, sticky raspberry-flavored Diane. I braced her other leg on my shoulder and wrapped my hands under her butt and around her hips.
As she began to buck against my tongue, I found the spot inside that would push her over the edge. Two fingers slightly curled were all it took for her to lose herself. The taste of Diane combined with berries became my new favorite flavor.
I kept lapping at her until her hands tugging on my hair stilled me.
I stood and grinned at her.
“You are a fine mess, Day.” She crooked her finger at me and I bent to kiss her.
“Yeah?” I dragged a finger through the mess I had just made on her. “So are you.” I sucked on my finger before kissing her again.
She giggled. “You’re all sticky, and your beard smells of sex and berries.”
“I may never wash my face again.” I licked the corner of my mouth.
“My turn.” She hopped off the counter. With a devilish gleam in her eye, she scooped up all the chocolate frosting from a cupcake and reached for my dick. Cool, smooth icing coated me as she moved her hand from the base to tip.
“This is a first.”
“What?”
“Frosting hand job. Where were you in junior high?”
“Girls were giving you hand jobs in junior high?”
“Not really, and never with frosting.”
Her eyebrow raised in question.
I shrugged. “Late bloomer, remember? Scrawny kid who lived and breathed soccer? The Nineties weren’t my best decade.”
She bent at the waist to lick me. “Nothing scrawny about you now.”
That was the last thing she said for a while.
Hard to talk with a mouthful of frosting.
Closing my eyes, I leaned against the counter as she used her mouth to remove every trace of frosting. Her tongue ran up the underside and I jerked in response. My hand on the counter knocked the box onto the floor, but I couldn’t care less.
If I didn’t stop her soon, I’d finish in her mouth.
Not tonight. I had other plans.
My hand resting on her cheek paused her movements. Her eyes blinked open and met mine. Nothing could be hotter than seeing her from this angle. She slowly dragged her lips over the tip and held me in her hand. Her eyes held a silent question.
“I’m close and you need to stop.”
Her lips rose in a knowing smile. “Where do you want me?”
“Floor,” I grunted out when her hand squeezed me.
She tumbled backward and I followed, landing between her thighs. Something sticky pressed into my knee and she still had sauce on her hips.
“We’re a mess,” she said between kisses.
“This isn’t going to be slow and sweet.” I nipped her shoulder.
A giggle followed her moan. “Pun intended?”
“No.” I lined up with her and thrust inside in one movement. “I was thinking hard and fast.”
“Mmm, my favorite.”
She rolled on top and I held onto her hips as she rode me. Nothing sweet about her now.
I flipped us back over and kneeled, lifting her hips with me. That did it. I was so deep in this position; my vision started to darken in the corners, and a familiar building feeling pushed me toward the point-of-no-return.
With a low growl, I thrust and then stilled as I came inside her.
Damn.
We lay sprawled out on the kitchen floor for a few minutes in the quiet. She had frosting in her hair and I still had sauce in my beard. Cake crumbs laid on her naked chest from where she nibbled on a squashed cupcake. I pressed a finger into one of the chocolate crumbs and licked it off. The counter and floor were both covered in our mess. Even my shirt had frosting on it where it lay on the floor next to my boxers.
“Who knew cake could be so much fun?” I asked.
“See? You were so cranky about Sweet Endings. I knew the cake would change your mind.”
“I don’t think you naked with frosting in your hair and covered in raspberry sauce were what Cassandra had in mind when she opened the pink palace of cake.”
Her hand landed on my shoulder with a thwack. “John Day!”
“What?” I rubbed my shoulder. She hit like a boy.
“That sweet woman didn’t name her bakery after some sort of sex euphemism.”
“Are you sure? It’s always the ones in the dumpy cardigans who turn out to be the biggest perverts. At least in my experience.” I dodged her hand and pulled her onto my lap.
“We burned that sweater, remember?” Her hands tugged at my beard at the corner of my jaw.
“Still doesn’t change the fact that inside all that wool was the naked girl sitting in my lap right now.”
She ground her hips into mine, stirring me back to life. I knew she felt me getting hard beneath her by the way her eyes widened.
“And you, Mr. Day, are a horn-dog in flannel clothing.”
“Did you just call me a horn-dog?”
“Yep. Seemed to fit the whole frosting hand-job conversation from earlier.”
“Can’t argue with that logic. Speaking of flannel, we should have a plaid cake.”
“Plaid?”
“Yeah, like my shirt. Better than pink any day.”
“Maybe for the groom’s cake?”
“I get my own cake? Do I have to share it? Like with the guests? Or just the best man? ‘Cause I’m not sure I’d want to give Donnely any. I mean, it’s not the groomsmen cake.” This sounded like a great idea to me.
“John?”
“Yes, Diane?”
“Let’s get married.”
I grinned at her and kissed her nose. “Already doi
ng that.” I picked up a piece of red velvet cake from the crushed box on the floor. “Remember? Wedding cake tasting is how we ended up here.”
“No, I mean, now.”
“Right now?” I wiped off a spot of chocolate on her cheek and held it up to her.
She sucked on my finger. “No, not this minute. Just soon. Soon and no fancy Seattle wedding cakes. We can do it on the beach—”
“We’ve already done it on the beach. A few times, if I remember correctly. That time by the beach fire. Christening our new outdoor shower.” I interrupted her. I couldn’t help myself.
“You know what I mean. I never wanted fancy or big.”
I lifted my eyebrows and my beard twitched.
“Stop! I’m not talking about your dick or having sex with you.” Exasperated, she wove her fingers into my hair and pulled my head back.
“Okay, I’ll focus. But you get any feistier and I won’t be able to concentrate.”
She growled and I kissed her. A few minutes later she was panting, but no longer frustrated with me.
“Can we have my aunt’s chocolate cake?”
“Yes, I was going to ask her to make it for us anyway.”
I frowned at her. “So today was for?”
She pressed her lips together and looked over my shoulder. I grabbed her ass and squeezed to get her attention.
“I heard their cakes were amazing and wanted to try them. And you like cake. So it seemed like a win-win for everyone.”
“Diane…”
“You can’t be mad. You got cake, and frosting. And a frosting hand-job.” She squirmed off of my lap before I could catch her.
“I had to play the Beast in a tiny pink theater production of Beauty and the Beast today for your amusement?” I stalked her around the counter. Naked or not, covered in sauce, frosting, and cake crumbs, she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
How she was mine and wanting to be my wife, I wasn’t going to question. All that being said, she was still in trouble.
I paused and she scampered toward the hall.
“Oh, you better run, Mrs. Day.” I counted to ten to give her a head-start up the stairs. When I heard her turn on the shower, I pounded up the stairs after her.
I loved shower sex even more than cake.
Chapter 4
One thing about the Sweet Endings experience, both the bakery and what happened in our kitchen, was I could never look at red velvet cake or raspberry sauce the same way again.
Thursday night back at the Dog House it was just Donnely and I playing pool. Diane had a late Pilates client and promised to meet us after. Her studio was only two blocks away in Langley’s small downtown. I offered to meet her and walk her back, but she insisted she’d be fine walking at night. It wasn’t like we lived in the city. Hell, the Dog House was the only real tavern in this four street town.
Donnely racked up the balls and then took solids. “How’d the wedding planning go? You get your balls monogrammed yet?”
I ignored him and took my shot.
“I’m taking your silence as a yes. Damn, I can’t believe in a year you’ve gone from bachelor to married.”
“We’re not married yet.”
“Having cold feet?”
“Not at all. I would’ve kept driving over the pass to the Hitching Post in Idaho if she said yes. It’s the wedding I’m not looking forward to. All the fuss.”
“Hey, didn’t you get free cake out of the deal last weekend? Can I fake being engaged and go get free shit?”
Pink dots flashed in my peripheral vision like some sort of post-traumatic stress hallucination. “Trust me, you’d never survive the process. Tom Cats can’t be domesticated.”
Donnely frowned. “You never know.”
“That’ll be the day.” I laughed.
When he didn’t joke back, I raised my eyebrow at him, but he lined up his shot and refused to look at me. I shrugged it off. He’d tell me what was going on when he was ready.
“The free cake was pretty amazing, but I swear the woman and the place were the creepiest things you’ve ever seen.” I told him about the dancing cakes on the toilet.
We laughed about the cougar and the fork.
“I’ve been with an older woman before.” Tom confessed.
“Just one?”
“I mean like mid-forties.”
“And?”
“She was wild in bed. Totally hot.” He sipped his beer and paused in memory. “I would have gone out with her again.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“When I left in the morning I realized I’d also slept with her daughter.” He shuddered. “That was weird. I mean, she didn’t even look that old. Must have been a teen mom or something.”
I shook my head. “Tom.”
“Don’t even start. I know.”
If I even needed a reminder how lucky I was to have found Diane and be loved by her, this conversation was it.
Mother and daughter? That crossed a line somewhere into manwhore. Tom was a good guy.
“Hey, I could always set you up with one of Diane’s friends if you—”
“No way! Not the married friend hook-up. My sisters have pulled that shit on me for years. Single or suddenly divorced and looking to play, but then complain when I won’t settle down. Been there and done that.”
I lifted my hands up palms facing him. “Okay, okay.”
We continued our game. Tom swept the table on his next turn while I nursed our pitcher of beer.
Any time someone walked by or entered the tavern’s double doors, my head swung around to see if it was Diane.
I glanced at the clock, realizing Diane would only be finishing with her client now. I resisted the temptation to jog over to the studio to meet her at the door.
A few minutes later, the doors swung open and a familiar scent of raspberries wafted toward me. She pulled off her grey knitted hat and shook out her long hair. Even in her workout clothes, my woman was a vision.
“Hi, Donnely.” She greeted Tom with a hug, and then waved to Olaf at the bar before walking over to me. “Hi, honey.”
She stood on her tiptoes and I leaned down to kiss her. There was something sweet on her lips. I licked my bottom lip to taste it.
“Why do you taste so amazing?” I kissed her again before she could answer. I couldn’t figure out the flavor, but I was willing to keep kissing her to find out.
“Ahem, you two can take that home if you keep at it. This is a family place,” Olaf scolded us from behind the bar.
Diane stepped away from me to look around the room. Peter sat at the end of the bar with Lester, and both looked up at the mention of family before returning to their discussion of baseball.
I scratched my beard and chuckled. “Okay, O, we get it.”
Diane set down a white box on the thin ledge that ran behind the stools near the pool table before taking off her coat.
“What’s in the box?” I walked over to have a look.
“Nothing.” She swatted my hand away and moved the box under her coat.
“Diane? What’s in the box?”
She blushed and poured herself a glass of beer. “It’s something a client brought me.”
“Okay, that was vague.”
“Can I look?” Donnely asked.
He reached for the box, but Diane spun around and lunged in front of him to protect it.
“Wow. It must be dirty with the way you’re blushing. Sex toys? Kinky stuff to keep things interesting?” He wiggled his eyebrows and gave her his best attempt at a seductive grin.
“Shut it, D.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “So what is it? And why are your clients bringing you kinky shit?”
“Stop it. It’s not kinky. At all. You two have the dirtiest minds.” With an exasperated sigh, she opened the box.
Tom and I peered inside like two kids allowed to peek at their Christmas presents.
“It’s cupcakes.” He
sounded disappointed. “And not even chocolate.”
Inside the box sat four cupcakes and a small container of raspberry sauce. That’s what I’d tasted on Diane’s lips—vanilla frosting. My body reacted like one of Pavlov’s dogs. Heat raced through my veins and blood headed south.
Great.
Any time I had dessert now, I’d be at risk of sporting.
Diane leaned into me, bringing me back into the moment. “You need some help with that wood in your pants?”
“You’re an evil minx.”
“I told you not to open the box, but you didn’t listen. Had to open it, didn’t you?”
“Let’s go,” I growled into her ear.
“But I just got here and I haven’t even played a game, or finished my beer—”
I cut her off by grabbing her hand and the cake box, tugging her toward the door.
“Sorry to play and run, Donnely, but we need to go.”
“But my coat—” Diane wiggled out of my grip and retrieved her stuff while I waited by the door.
Donnely stood by the pool table and grinned. He mouthed “whipped” at me.
I flipped him the bird.
I heard him say “Lucky bastard” as I pulled Diane out into the night. I couldn’t get her home soon enough.
“How are we going to have cake at the wedding if this is how you react now every time you see frosting?” She giggled as she jogged to keep up with me back to the truck.
I swung her around so her back rested against the truck door and kissed her, tasting vanilla and pure Diane. “I’ve decided we should have pie.”
TAKE IT EASY
A WINGMEN SHORT
Introduction
First published in Red Hot Candy, this silly short captures the friendship between John and Tom as they adjust from being solo wingmen to their new lives with Diane and Hailey. Summers in the Pacific Northwest are my favorite.
When Diane and Hailey join John and Tom for a weekend in the San Juan Islands, it won’t be the typical guys’ camping trip the best friends and former wingmen are used to having.
Two couples, four friends in the woods… one crazy night.
Love, Laughter and Happily Ever After: A Short Story Collection Page 8
