by R. J. Scott
I kissed every part I could reach. As we slid and rutted against each other, I knew that if we didn’t stop, then I’d lose it in seconds, so I eased myself out of his hold and sat up and away from him.
“What?” he asked and circled his cock with those long capable fingers.
“I need to get… ” I crawled off the bed and slid my way across the wooden floor to the bathroom, grabbing the entire bag of stuff and then sliding back in. Brody hadn’t moved, and I whimpered a little. He was so gorgeous, spread out and waiting for me. I clambered back on the bed and upended everything onto the quilt. Only then did I feel like I was more in control of all of this, and I crawled up his body, stopping to nibble and suck at each nipple, focusing on the sensitive skin until that moment Brody pushed up against my mouth, and then I let go, and it was his turn to whimper.
“Justin?”
“Shhhh.” I kissed up to his throat and then captured his lips in a heated kiss, a tangle of tongues that was getting us both hot. He twisted under me, released his trapped hand, and abruptly our cocks were together, slick and sexy, and I swear my eyes rolled back in my head. I pinned Brody down to stop him from moving, and we fought for that small part of control, and it was nearly too much again. I slowed everything down a little. “What do you want?”
“All of it,” he answered and gripped my ass, yanking me down and pressing hard there.
“We should have a conversation—”
“Now?”
“Yeah, about tests and—”
“Negative, I was tested after I found out about Marc.”
“Negative and versatile,” I said against his lips, and now it was his turn for his eyes to roll.
“In me. Now.”
I slid down his body, moved lower, nibbling at every piece of exposed skin, each hard plane and dip marking his hip where the skin was taut. Sucking gently, his cock inches from my lips, I slid my hand between his spread legs, caressed his balls, and then behind, and then forward, and each time I was nearer to where he wanted me to be but not close enough for his liking. He cursed at me, slapped around the bed until he found the lube, even snapped the lid so we could use it and passed me a condom. How he had the presence of mind meant I wasn’t doing my job properly. In a smooth move, I sucked at the head of his cock, and he dropped the lube and condoms and whimpered as he thrust up into my mouth, his muscles flexing as I licked and sucked and had him writhing under me.
“Justin, fuck,” Brody groaned and demanded, with a condom on and slick on my fingers, I took him back in my mouth, listening to one word on repeat “please… ” caught somewhere between begging and commanding. I slicked the way, pressed inside, and accompanied each small push of my finger with a roll of my tongue on his sensitive head, sucking him down then kissing my way back up and all the time he writhed and pleaded and warned me he was close.
I twisted and stroked, the movements slow until the exquisite pleasure-pain had to be his only points of focus as he grew more and more incoherent. I clicked and pushed, found his sweet spot, sliding my fingers out almost to the tips then pushing back in.
“Fucking do it!” Brody screamed but another twist and he couldn’t form words at all.
I pulled my fingers out when he stiffened, wanting to be inside him before his orgasm hit him, and pinched the base of his cock, my name a curse on his lips. Then I was between his legs, pressing his thighs apart and pushing inside slowly, waiting for Brody to let me in. I could imagine the burn, the pressure, and then I pushed forward and swallowed his low moan with an awkward messy kiss. I set an agonizingly slow rhythm for me, and even though I was trying to control this, Brody was cursing and gripping me, with his cock trapped between us, and his hand wrapped around himself. Our eyes were locked on each other, and he was close. I needed to tell him that he was gorgeous and sexy, and that I wanted every inch of him, but I was fooling myself if I thought I had any control at all.
“I’m coming,” he said, moving his hand on his cock as much as he was able and then arching up, neck stretched taught and his mouth open in a silent howl.
I was so close, and the way he stiffened was enough to push me over the edge. With no rational thought but the intense tightness of Brody’s body pulling me along, I fucked into him and stared down at him as my orgasm ripped through me.
We stayed very still, only exchanging soft kisses. I didn’t want to be the first to move and break the intensity of what we’d just done, but I had to be. When I could, I pulled out, cleaned us up, pulled up the covers, encouraging him to come under, and we snuggled. I expected awkwardness, or reservation, or both of us not knowing what to say next, but even as I planned how I was going to tell him that he was changing my life, he was the one to talk first.
“Sex is like baking you know,” he said, yawning into my neck.
“How so?” I had my theories as to how he was going to explain this, but I wanted to hear him say it.
“Magic.”
“Okaaaay?”
“No stay with me.” He snuggled closer. “It’s something magical that takes two ordinary people, mixes them all up and makes something new and wonderful. Like eggs and butter, sugar and flour. Voilà, a cupcake is born.” He yawned again. “I’m not making any sense am I?”
“Nah, it makes perfect sense.”
“You’re like soft silk buttercream over a fudge cupcake,” he said sleepily.
“And you’re like a chocolate-dipped strawberry,” I teased, but he was already asleep.
To be honest, I didn’t last much longer and wrapped as close as we could be, we slept.
Wedding cupcakes went as I expected, Brody took the win by a country mile, his delicate chocolate work, all in white, was stunning. I don’t know how the hell I did it, but I took a second, with a smiling Clare coming third.
Of course, off camera, she scowled and sent me a stare that could kill a man at six paces. I ignored her because we had the blind bake next, and because I was still on a high from last night.
Brody and I woke up this morning when both alarms went off at the same time, shared a lazy shower, and then he’d gone back to his room to dress for today. We walked to the venue hand in hand, swinging them like kids, and an enormous joy lived inside me that I had this right now. The sky seemed bluer, the snow more pristine, and the ice puffs of our mingled breath as we stole kisses was utterly perfect. This must be what it’s like to open your heart and make love instead of just getting off and having sex because it was all rainbows and smiles, and if I wasn’t careful, I could become addicted to this.
And why was that a bad thing? Because I lived in New York City, and he lived in Corning? That wasn’t a barrier, after all, I didn’t need to live in the city all the time. The parties I attended and the events I was featured at were on specific nights, so I could just travel to New York when I needed to. It wasn’t inconceivable. I could meet Brody’s family, learn all about him, and not just from what I saw but from what other people thought of him. I already knew he was a twin, and that he was a good brother and uncle, but I wanted to know all of what made him Brody.
I refused to let doubt creep in, and with a second in the first part of this round, I was riding the high.
“And for today’s blind bake, the judges want you to make croquembouche, this edible spire of caramelized pastry should contain at least twenty caramel-glazed cream puffs and feature a spun sugar cage. Your cream puffs should be filled with a cream of your choice reflecting the theme of weddings at Christmas. You have two hours to create this masterpiece, and your time starts now!”
As soon as Courtney said the words I pulled off the cloth that covered the ingredients and stared at them. Flour, butter, eggs, the makings of pastry cream, and I knew what a croquembouche looked like. But choux pastry was my nemesis, and I had to take two very deep breaths and then count back from twenty as I pretended to check the recipe if you could even call a list of ingredients a recipe. There was no method, no suggested oven temperature, no timings and my mind was
a blank. I could hear sounds from Brody behind me, water running, saucepans clattering, and I knew in my bones that this was something he would do brilliantly. A casual glance behind me as I pulled out a saucepan to boil the water, I saw Clare already confidently swishing and moving and generally looking efficient. So it was just me.
And when the judges got to taste all three, including mine in the middle that was a little crooked, with only half a sugar spun cage, I knew I’d come up short. I was in last place, Clare in second and yet again, Brody was first. Unless he messed up the wedding cake in the morning then he was going through to the final, but for me and Clare, it was going to go down to the wire.
I hugged him and congratulated him as soon as we got outside and away from the cameras, and he seemed embarrassed at the praise.
“I only just did a croquembouche for the last wedding, so I had an unfair advantage.”
“No,” I said quickly and kissed him hard. “You’re a freaking genius, and I’m so proud of you.” He blushed and scuffed his foot like a kid getting a good report, and I tilted his chin. “You can win this,” I told him.
I know I was quiet as we walked back to the hotel, and Brody didn’t push me to talk, just took my hand and tugged me off the main path so we could walk in peace and all too soon we found ourselves in front of Jeremy.
“I don’t want to go home,” I told Jeremy as I straightened his scarf. “I want to stay in the competition with your other dad.” Brody let me talk to the inanimate pile of snow as we patched up holes with ice and leaves. It was my way of explaining how I felt without having to face Brody and see the compassion in him that might be my undoing.
“You will,” he said after a short break. “I know you’ll be in the final.”
“With you.”
“Together.”
The snow was heavy overnight as an icy late October gripped Banff, and the flurries of snow were icy against any exposed skin. I didn’t complain because holding Brody’s hand and feeling the ice on my face made me feel alive. We woke up in my room again, wrapped in each other’s arms, and I ached from where Brody had bent me over the sofa in the small sitting room. When we came together again in the middle of the night, it was slow and steady and whispered endearments mingled with soft kisses. I was falling in love. I knew it, but I wasn’t ready to say it because what if I said it, and he left me.
I didn’t expect he would laugh at me or tell me that I was being stupid, but I feared the worst thing of all—that he told me he loved me back and then left me. How could I live the rest of my life knowing that I’d loved and lost? Who even though that it was better that way then never knowing love at all. An idiot, that’s who.
Now we were at breakfast, both with sketchbooks that we are scribbling ideas into, only he was working on some complicated design for someone important, and I was doodling this cake with numbers around it. By the numbers. One, put the egg in a bowl and whisk. Then step two, and so on. It made sense to me that a child would learn from a numbered list with everything illustrated so they knew what to do. I was lost in thinking about how I’d present this and what it meant for the career I had already. My cell began to dance across the table as it vibrated, and I caught it, call it divine intervention or the worst timing anyone could ever have, but it was Erin calling, and I answered it.
“Hang on,” I told her and indicated to Brody I was taking the call outside. As soon as I was in the corridor, I found a corner. “Hello?”
“Justin, Kleckso have offered a bonus for you to use the creamer in today’s bake—”
“No.” I cut that dead at the knees.
“It’s your last chance to feature them after you get last place today.”
“What? No, it’s not. I could make the final.” Although even then I wouldn’t use that crap because that was what it was. Shit. The guilt at the twenty k in my bank for the exaggerations I’d propagated about that fake cream churned in my stomach.
“That’s very unlikely,” she said and clucked her tongue. “You’ve been very lucky so far it seems.”
“I’m sorry?”
“From your messages to me it would seem that you’ve felt lucky. You said you missed having someone to tidy up your messes.”
“That was last week.”
“And it’s changed this week?”
“Yes.” Yes, it had because I’d opened myself up and become something more. I didn’t need to lie or be something I wasn’t. I didn’t need to have money in the bank that defined me, and I certainly didn’t need someone tidying up my messes.
“I wasn’t that bothered, you know. I never thought I’d make it past round one, and we all know that Brody will win because he’s a freaking genius, but I have a good chance of getting second, and I want to take it.”
“But it would make more sense if you came third and used your time to fulfill some of the promotional obligations I have booked you in for.”
“Cancel them.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” She sounded like I’d told her I was joining a commune and the horror in her voice made me wave. Why was I rocking the boat?
“Nope. Cancel them, cancel everything. Invoice me, and then we need to renegotiate the terms of my contract with you on renewal at the end of December. I’m looking to move into education entertainment, maybe create an online kids show? Or books?”
“That is not our demographic—”
“Then I’ll hire someone else for the twenty-five percent you get from me.”
“What the hell Justin?”
“I respect you, Erin, but let’s be honest. It’s my career, and I’ve lost control of my life, and I want it back.”
She sighed, and I could imagine her expression of distaste or anger or whatever it was she was feeling.
“Okay, Justin, if that is your final decision.”
“It is.”
“We could part company at the end of the year if you insist on doing this.”
“I’m cool with that, and you’ll go on and make some other kid rich, and I’ll move on and do something else.” I very nearly said ‘follow Brody to Corning’, but I restrained myself.
“I think you’re making a mistake. You’re on the cusp of something big, all it would take is one revealing photograph with Brody, and we could triple your followers and there are big bonuses for that.”
“Not interested.”
“You’ll lose money. We’ll lose money.”
“I’m sorry, Erin. I’ve made my decision.”
“Goodbye, Justin.”
She’d ended the call before I could return the pleasantry. I didn’t have a single clue what was coming next, but if the buzz in my chest wasn’t me having an anxiety attack, then I think I was excited.
The photo that appeared on my social media an hour later, a long-distance shot of me and Brody rolling in the snow with all kinds of stupid ass hashtags made my heart fall. He was going to think I did that, and I tried to log in to delete it, but the password wouldn’t work. What the hell?
What did I do now?
Get ahead of it. Make a statement.
I sat on the window seat, turned on the lamp, and set up the phone, all on autopilot.
“Hi, Mallys!” I began enthusiastically. “Just wanted you all to know that the last photo was posted by mistake!” I needed to make sure that I chose my words carefully. “You should all be the first to hear that I’ve met someone and you all know him! Brody is a fellow contestant, and I’ve fallen harder than I ever thought.” I cupped my hands to make a heart on my chest and grinned. “Wish us well if you can. I think he might be the one. Night, Mallys!”
Hearts were already flying up the screen, and I’d mitigated the damage, now I just had to face Brody and tell him what I’d done.
My cell vibrated with a message. “I’m the one?” Brody typed, and I saw that he was typing more, so I waited. “I think you might be the one for me too.” He signed off with a kiss. I then sent a paragraph about how it wasn’t me that had posted t
he photo of us in the snow, followed by an email to Erin, threatening to sue her if she didn’t share the new passwords. Her response was instant. I went in, locked her out, and then felt like I had control.
And then? I sent a kiss to Brody, along with the cutest heart gif I could find.
“Ready for this?” Brody asked me from his work area behind me, and I turned to face him, leaning back on the counter and grinning. There was no way I could let him see too deep inside me because he wouldn’t only find fear and nerves about the bake, he’d find the love I had for him, which was nestled so far inside that to expose it would risk breaking me apart. I was still reeling over what I’d told Erin, and how direct I’d been, but I also felt lighter as if the weight of the Justin character I’d assumed had been lifted from me. Maybe it was okay to be me, maybe other people would like the real me.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I quipped back in my best ‘Justin-is-a-badass-and-isn’t-terrified-really’ voice.
Which is when everything went terribly wrong.
Part of my cake design was a dome of set jelly with a needled flower inside, and I left it in my refrigerator to set, but I must have put it too close to an edge because when I moved a tray just an inch with my perfectly baked sponges on it to cool, the entire shelf collapsed and the bowl of the jelly plus the cream I’d made smashed into each other. The crack of glass on glass was loud enough to wake the dead, and there was no mistaking Brody’s gasp. The cameras panned in on the chaos and then up at me staring down at the mess. There was no way I would have put my precious elements on the shelf in that kind of way. I’d have to start over and bake another cake layer as I was one short now. I backed away from the refrigerator slowly and straight into Brody.
“It will be okay, Justin,” he said softly near my ear.
How? How was it going to be okay?
“Cut!” the director called, and a group gathered around the devastation. My perfectly iced first bakes were scratched and tilted, the rest of the cream full of glass, and the beautiful scarlet jelly flower was destroyed. I wouldn’t have time left to do that again. I backed away from the group and headed to my table, Brody next to me and everything was wrong.
