Boxed Set: The Baker & the Billionaire

by Nikki Steele

  Briefly, I considered skipping the next bourbon in favor of several packets of pork rinds. I shuddered at how easy it would be to slip back into old habits, and decided to leave before temptation got me, instead.

  I was climbing from my stool when he reappeared. “Where are you going?” he asked. “I just got us a table by the fire.”

  My eyes widened in surprise. “A table? For us?”

  He chuckled. “Of course. Now that I’ve managed to find you again, I’m not gonna let you go without learning more about you. Come on—I’ll buy you a drink.”

  His smile was warm and inviting, but I hesitated. The last time I’d accepted a drink from a guy… but no. I pushed that thought from my mind. It had been years ago, and that had been a stupid frat boy. Jax was a man, through and through. He’d even helped pick up my shopping! He wouldn’t treat me that way, I knew it.

  “What are you drinking?” he asked when we were seated.

  “Bourbon,” I replied. He looked impressed, and murmured his order to the waitress.

  “That makes sense,” he said with a wink when he turned back to me. “You’re not the sort of girl who drinks cosmos or other frou-frou drinks like that. I can tell.”

  I felt myself frown. “What makes you say that?”

  “You’re more down-to-earth,” he said. “The frou-frou drinks are for spacey girls. Airheads. You know.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “And you’ve known a lot of these girls?”

  He laughed. “I’ve known my share. We’ll leave it at that.”

  Our drinks came, and I raised mine in a little salute to the man who had bought it for me. Was this really happening, a guy buying me a drink? I had to keep from pinching myself.

  I took a sip, then raised my eyebrows. “This is good. What is it?”

  “Jefferson’s Ocean.”

  I frowned. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “It’s a small batch bourbon from a boutique distillery. They mature it in casks which they put on ocean liners that travel the world. The theory is that as the contents of the barrels slosh with the rocking waves, more liquid comes in contact with the sides of the casks, giving the bourbon character.” He smiled. “I thought it might interest you.”

  I took another sip, and found the courage to meet his eyes. “It does,” I murmured. And in my mind I wasn’t talking about the drink.

  He asked what I did for a living.

  “Right now, I’m helping out my sister,” I told him. “Before that I worked part time.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I was a baker. I studied culinary arts and worked in a bakery.”

  He smiled. “Maybe one day I’ll get you to make me some of those chocolate croissants, like they have at the store.”

  I couldn’t help grinning back; little did he know that I had done just that, earlier in the day. Granted, I hadn’t made them specifically for him; it was the baker in me, wondering whether I could do better.

  Jax ordered another round of drinks, insisting on selecting and paying. This bourbon was different, but still smooth, and rich, and delicately balanced. “What do you do for fun?” he asked suddenly. He leant back in his chair, his hand softly swirling the ice in his drink as he gazed at me.

  I felt warm all over; it wasn’t from the fire. “I don’t really do much,” I admitted. “I mean, I read. I watch movies. I’m a homebody, I guess. How about you? Do you make a habit of coming to bars and picking up women?” My hand went to my mouth and I turned beetroot red. “Oh my god, I’m sorry I didn’t mean that. It just sort of slipped out.”

  He burst into a good natured laugh. “You forgot the part about stalking beautiful women around a grocery store.”

  I smiled timidly. “Wishful thinking, I guess.” Wait. Did I just say that too? And did he just call me beautiful? The bourbon must be going to my head.

  “Wishful thinking indeed,” Jax murmured, meeting my eyes. A tension stretched between us. It was broken by the waiter collecting our glasses.

  Jax ordered another round of drinks. “I’ll have a Black Maple Hill 16-Year, and the lady will have Hirsch Reserve. We’ll take them in short glasses, neat, with no ice.”

  The waiter nodded, then hurried away.

  “That’s the third time you’ve ordered a drink for me,” I commented. “You seem the controlling type.”

  He winked at me. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  I leaned forward. “So how about you? What do you like doing?”

  He considered the question. “I have… expensive tastes. I like good food, fine bourbons, and beautiful women.” He looked at me under lidded eyes. “If we had some of those chocolate croissants here right now, I’d call this evening a perfect trifecta.”

  I blushed. “You’re just saying that… about the beautiful women,” I said. I looked down. “I’m sure you could find a hundred ski bunnies in this bar, if that’s what you want.” I waved one hand around the bar; there were, in fact, gorgeous women all around.

  He shook his head. Then his hand went to my cheek, briefly.

  It sent a thrill racing across my skin, making my heart beat faster. “I only see one beautiful woman, and she’s sitting across from me.”

  Suddenly I was hot all over. My heart was racing a mile a minute. Had he really just said that?

  I took another drink of my bourbon. “You’re very forward, aren’t you?” I said. It occurred to me that I’d never see this man again after tonight. Forward wasn’t such a bad thing, and besides, after all my hard work today, didn’t I deserve a little fun? “Are you always like this?”

  “Only when I see something I want. It goes hand in hand with that control thing you spotted earlier.”

  I looked at him and then, bourbon buzzing through my head, bit my lower lip. “And what is it that you want?”

  Chapter 6

  We’d tumbled through the door of the cabin and had spent the last half hour kissing like naughty high schoolers on the couch. Erica was still out.

  He was a good kisser; his lips the type I just wanted to keep tasting over and over again. Soft, and when his hands went behind my head just… there… I could just close my eyes and get lost in them.

  Our kissing was slowly growing more passionate. I delighted in the feel of every rippling muscle beneath his sweater, and I could already feel a deep throbbing starting between my legs; I had never been kissed this way before.

  His hand left my head and travelled slowly down my body. It gripped the bottom of my sweater, and began to pull it slowly up.

  I broke away from him, panting. “We should stop.”

  “You don’t want to continue?”

  “I don’t want my sister to come home and find us.”

  He kissed me again. “Why don’t we go out to the hot tub, then?”

  “I… don’t have a bathing suit,” I stammered.

  His smile grew wide. “Neither do I.” Then he kissed me with passion.

  When our mouths parted, I was breathless and shaky. He still had that smile on his face, only now there was a note of pride in it. He had me, and he knew it.

  “Hot tub?” he asked again, and this time I nodded. My heart was in my throat and I felt slightly nauseated with fear, but if that kiss told me anything, it was that the man wanted me. What else could he do to me with that tongue?

  We stepped onto the deck, where snow was now falling. The tub was protected by an overhang, but I could use the temperature as an excuse to strip down quickly and get into the water.

  And that was exactly what I did, pulling off my boots and casting them aside, then stripping off my leggings and sweater. I was just about to tear off my underwear and submerge when a command made me stop.

  I froze, feeling exposed.

  He was looking at me, eyes raking over my body. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. I didn’t believe him, and I turned my face away. He stepped closer to me and ran his fingertips along my shoulders, then down my chest and over my breasts. Electricity
sparked when he skimmed my nipples. I felt like it should arc from one to the other.

  His fingers roamed lower, over my stomach and hips. “Why be ashamed of this beauty?” he asked.

  He kissed me again, lightly this time, while slipping the bra straps from my shoulders. I shivered from both his touch, and the cold. He must have felt this, because he chuckled. “You should get in the water,” he murmured. I nodded, and when he stepped back I unhooked my bra and allowed it to fall from my breasts. I was watching him, and I saw him catch his breath. Then I turned and slowly lowered my panties with a feeling of strange power.

  I would never see this man again. And it felt… free. I could be who I wanted, and do what I wanted, without fear or anxiety. Tonight, I could skinny dip in a hot tub with a stranger. And then tomorrow, I could be myself once again.

  I stepped into the water and settled myself against the wall of the hot tub. It was comfortable here; a change after shivering in the cold.

  “Your turn,” I said, hearing the new confidence in my voice and liking it. I watched hungrily as he took off his sweater, my fingers aching to touch him. He was built solid, strong, and lean. He stripped off his pants, then, and his shorts. Though I didn’t have much experience with the male form, I knew what I saw was exceptional. I felt a stirring in my body that had nothing to do with the heat of the tub.

  He slipped beneath the water with me, and approached. “Come here,” he whispered, holding his hands out to me. I crossed the tub, gliding toward him. It felt so graceful and sexy to moving through the water totally naked—there was something erotic about the feel of it on every part of your body; the tingle as it moved past your skin.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed against him, then tilted my head up for another kiss. This time I whimpered slightly when I felt his tongue touch mine.

  His hands slid down my back until they cupped my backside. My whimper became a moan. I moved my own hands over his shoulders and tight chest, reveling in the feel of him. When his mouth left mine and began trailing kisses down my throat, I buried my fingers in his thick dark hair and let my head fall back. I bared myself to him, completely.

  His mouth latched onto my neck and I moaned again, my skin on fire, hotter than the water in which we soaked. I felt his hands cupping my butt squeeze, and then slip forward around my hips.

  I stayed them. “Jax…”

  “Yes?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

  “I’m… not very experienced doing this. It’s been a long time.”

  He nuzzled my neck. “If you’ll be my student, I can be a very good teacher.”

  My head arched back. “Mmm. I think I could like that.”

  His hands resumed their journey. I gasped as they moved between my legs.

  “Shhhh…” he whispered, “the first lesson is, relax and enjoy.” He resumed his kissing, and I did as I was told, allowing myself to succumb to the private sensation of being touched. It was unreal, I felt like I was floating in a sea of bliss, not a pool of water, and he soon had me aching for release.

  “So good,” I murmured between whimpers. “So good, Jax…” I felt him chuckle against my skin at the amazement in my voice.

  “Do you want more? Do you want me to teach you more?” he whispered into my ear, sweeping his tongue around the edge of the lobe before taking it between his teeth. I shuddered, and then nodded. I wanted very badly to learn everything he could teach.

  His mouth moved down to suckle at me, lapping at hard nipples just above the waterline, as his hands worked other areas below. I panted through open lips, watching him as he explored me with his fingers. His touch was intoxicating. His mouth left my skin and I felt cold air; he strummed my nipples with his thumbs and I cried out softly, head rolling back on my shoulders.

  “Do you like me playing with your breasts?” he murmured. “Do you like the cold air, after my warm breath?

  I bit my lip, then nodded.

  One of his hands left my breasts. I opened my eyes to find him reaching outside the tub. “What are you doing?” I managed through the haze of bliss enveloping me.

  “Giving you your second lesson,” he said. Then he took a handful of snow in his hand, from where it had piled up on the deck, and without another word, rubbed it against erect nipples. I yelped in shock and pleasure.

  His head dipped swiftly to my breast to replace the cold snow with his warm, wet mouth. I groaned, holding his head tightly to me. I could feel myself growing hotter; the aching between my legs getting more intense.

  Suddenly the warmth was replaced again with snow, and I cried out. I tried to pull away, the pleasure so intense it was almost torture. But he held me close to him, his strong arm around my waist, forcing me to accept what he was giving. He rubbed the snow on me, teasing and torturing me until it melted. His mouth covered the nipple again, his tongue sweeping over my sensitive flesh and making me writhe.

  He removed his mouth and I made a disappointed noise without intending to. He laughed softly. “Your second lesson was, the body can turn pain into pleasure quickly, in skilled hands.” His tongue trailed up my neck, giving me shivers. “Did you like the lesson?” he asked. He shifted himself closer to me. I could feel his need pressing against my thigh, and I knew that he had liked it, too.

  Instead of answering I growled, then pulled him toward me, kissing him passionately. Tonight I could be who I wanted to be. Not the assistant, not the masseuse, but a sexual tigress liberated by his hand. I rubbed myself against him, under the water, using its smooth lubrication as oil between our bodies. He groaned as the pressure of our hips stimulated us both.

  His hands grasped me, spreading my legs, using my own movement to stimulate me even as my body stimulated him. I nearly screamed.

  “Please… please…” I whispered, my own body faltering in its movements as I began to lose concentration.

  He grinned, pressing the advantage. “Lesson number three is, it’s much more fun if you let me be in control.”

  He pushed me back against the seat of the tub, moving between my legs to glide his cupped hand over me with a smooth, steady rhythm. I grasped him while he worked, though I could do little else but hold on with clenched, shuddering fingers as he worked me higher and her. Soon the aching tension he’d created was tearing me apart.

  I was being driven mad. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, and I curled up to press my face against his shoulder as the intensity began to peak. My breathing quickened. My fingers curled into his back. And then his free hand reached across to grab just the tiniest pinch of snow and sit it, balancing, atop a nipple. The icy pain, unrelenting, turned to indescribable pleasure. I screamed into his shoulder as the force of my passion overtook me.

  He held me as I recovered, wiping away the snow as I trembled from the aftershocks. Gentle kisses moved along my shoulders and the back of my neck. Eventually I was recovered enough to pull away from him and smile.

  “Let’s go inside,” he suggested. I nodded, and I felt him twitch against me. Tonight wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.

  “There should be robes in that closet,” he said, pointing to an almost hidden door in the wall. I was surprised, having not noticed it before now. We climbed from the tub and quickly wrapped ourselves against the cold night air. I knew I’d never look at snow the same way again, and I blushed.

  We gathered our things and he followed me upstairs to my room. I giggled, tipsy on bourbon and sex. “We have to be quiet,” I whispered, feeling like I was back in high school and hiding a boyfriend from Mom and Dad.

  That all went out the window as soon as we closed the door of my bedroom. He ripped my robe open, throwing me onto the bed, then knelt down at the edge. His tongue dove where his hands had been in the tub, and soon I was lit on fire from within once more.

  Then I felt a different pressure. Further back, below where his tongue worked. I looked up suddenly. “Your next lesson,” he said, coming up with a lick, “is that there are many different pleasure
zones in the body.”

  I gasped as I felt his finger slide across my back door. It felt dirty, tawdry… but also amazing. Tonight, I decided suddenly, I was going to be the sort of girl that did this, and enjoyed it. I nodded, and his head moved back down between my legs. His tongue lapped out, pleasuring me in little flicks from the front. Then the tip of his finger slid in from the back.

  I gasped—a million nerve endings had just fired all at once; my body a Christmas tree plugged directly into a lightning bolt. My eyes rolled back at the sensation. I would never see this man again, but oh how I wished I could when he showed me these sorts of wonders!

  The finger slid in further. I could feel it deep inside. Between it and the tongue at the front, I was being driven mad. I cried out, unable to keep quiet, my juices flowing freely as another orgasm began to build.

  Then his mouth moved from the front, and two fingers slid inside there, too. He began to pump them in and out. I was saying something to him, begging him I think, but I couldn’t concentrate on the words as I writhed on the bed before him. I never wanted this to stop, and at the same time I ached for that sweet end I could feel fast approaching.

  His fingers curled. I could almost feel them touching, inside me. And then the wave crashed down as I arched my back, my hips leaving the bed and thighs gripping Jax’s head. A series of explosions were going off, starting at my pelvis and radiating throughout my body. My muscles unclenched from around his fingers only slowly.

  “Did you like lesson four?” he asked.

  “Mmm-hmm,” I moaned, lost in bliss. I felt incredible.

  “Touch yourself for me,” he commanded, still kneeling between my hips. “We’re about to begin lesson five.”

  In my newfound persona, I found it easy to bring a hand between my legs. I stared into his eyes as my other hand caressed a breast and then pinched a nipple. His eyes widened when he saw my enthusiasm. “What’s lesson five?” I asked, breathless.

  He stood up, and now my own eyes widened. His member was standing hard and erect upon his naked body, obvious in his passion for me. “Lesson five,” he said, stroking himself slowly. “Is that no matter how good my hands or even your hands feel…” he knelt on the bed above me, and positioned himself at my entrance, “my cock is going to feel better.” In one smooth motion, he slid himself inside.