The Competition

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The Competition Page 2

by Riley Rollins


  Gran and Gramps had married late in December. And he’d died in the summertime, almost fifty years later…

  “Hey, Em… I thought I heard someone.” Reese opened the glass door that separated the stairwell from the bakery itself. Her red hair was tied back and there was a white smudge on her cheekbone that highlighted the tiny lines just beginning to form there. “We’ve got ninety percent of the baking done. If we can finish it up by tonight, we’ll have the rest of the week for nothing but decorating.” She rubbed her hands together and smiled. “God knows, I’ve taken on a lot of different challenges in my day, but none like this… I can’t tell if I’m dying with excitement, or completely terrified…

  The uniforms came in today, by the way. I didn’t have the balls to open the box yet.”

  “I know exactly how you feel,” I said. I took a sweet lungful of air and tasted sugar at the back of my throat. A fine silt of sugar and flour always hung in the kitchen, along with the sinful aroma of deep, dark chocolate and browning butter. No matter how bitter my upstairs life could be, it was always warm and sweet and tempting down here…

  “I’m guessing Justine’s still not coming around?” Tam asked. She was twenty one, the youngest of the three of us, but didn’t look a day over fifteen. Her blonde hair was folded neatly into a hairnet, her sweet blue eyes were gentle and freckles sprinkled her little nose. She took an enormous bowl of buttercream frosting out of the fridge. “You always come back downstairs looking a little…”

  “Judged?” I asked, nodding and biting into my bottom lip. “Imagine that…” I rummaged in a drawer and came up with what I needed. A razor to open the box. “No, nothing’s changed. I don’t think it ever will. She doesn’t want to see things change. And I think it’s gotten harder for her, since she’s gotten sick. But I doubt she’ll turn down the food it puts on the table.”

  Reese lifted the box up onto the messy corner desk, while Tam paused long enough to wipe her hands on her apron and come over for the unveiling. I slipped the knife along the edges of the box and opened it, hating that my heart was pounding. Not just because I’d paid for the uniforms with money I didn’t really have yet, but because the idea of wearing one made me excited. Tingly in a way I’d never felt before. A way that I wasn’t fully ready to admit that I kind of liked…

  “Holy shit,” Reese said, reaching in and pulling out a tiny black and white uniform. She peeled off the whisper thin plastic sheath and held it up toward me. The two women stood looking with wide eyes. ‘We’re really gonna wear these things…?”

  I took the satin hanger and tucked it under my chin, spreading the tiny skirt across my hips and the even tinier bodice over my breasts. Candy pink letters rolled across my chest like a ribbon. The new name of our new adventure: Sweets and Classy. The word Sweets rested on my chest, the end of the S curling a gentle swirl right over the top of my barely concealed nipple. The word Classy was scrolled across the back of the little gathered skirt. Fluffs of white lace peeked out underneath and around the deep neckline. A little lace cap along with the predictable fishnets and pink heels rounded out the costume.

  Tam took hers out and held it up, exchanging a wide-eyed glance with Reese. I licked my lips, tasting sugar. “I know it feels risky, and I’m just as nervous about this as you are. But I have a four thousand dollar deposit in the bank,” I said softly, listening to the sound of my heart in my chest. “And another five due when the party ends on Saturday night.”

  I stroked the letters that rested like a promise over my heart. “And it’s all completely legit. I have it in writing… we provide the sweets and tend the bar, nothing else. The outfits are just for show… just to get our feet in the door.” I was breathing fast, talking fast… “No one at the party is allowed to touch us. And our sweets aren’t obscene… they’re just… erotic, but still in good taste. It’s a kind of art, really…” I stroked the dark satin and felt my pulse in my fingertips. “It’ll all be okay…

  We’re still good girls…”

  3

  Chase

  Game night, two weeks later

  I tossed the tuxedo jacket aside and pulled against the constraints of my shirt collar. I could still smell the relaxing scent of woodsmoke on my skin, and wondered why the hell I hadn’t just stayed at the cabin. It was dangerous to be here, even if I had no intention of participating. I could feel the same familiar excitement thrumming just under the surface of my skin. I’d been a goddamned fool for coming here tonight…

  “You look like you need this more than I do.” Ben came up behind me and put a glass in my hand. “I didn’t really expect you to show tonight. I thought you’d put all this behind you…”

  He stood next to me and we watched the undulating bodies on the dancefloor. Sutton had turned the entire rooftop of the Envisager building into a nightclub atmosphere. Unlike the fundraising event which had been geared only toward the wealthy and well connected, tonight’s guests were young, beautiful and looking for pure excitement. But even the prime ones Sutton had hand-picked, had no idea they were simply fish in a barrel…

  “I’m not sure why I did come,” I answered darkly, letting the ice bump against the side of my glass. “Other than to make sure the two of you don’t start a scandal even our kind money can’t fix.” I swirled the scotch in circles and looked out under heavy brows at the colored laser lights that crossed the night sky. The music was good, with a deep, rhythmic beat that I could feel in my chest. All the lights of the city were far below us. We stood like kings, at the top of the world.

  “So… you couldn’t stay away,” Sutton said, coming up and extending a hand. I gripped it, harder than I needed to, glancing away.

  “I’m not in tonight,” I replied, running a hand through my hair irritably. “Amelia heard there was a party tonight, and said she might drop by.” I shot Sutton a hard look. “And I don’t give a shit about points or risk factors. She’s fucking off limits.” I growled. My sister had no idea about the game, and I intended to keep it that way.

  “She always has been, always will be,” he answered dryly. “Now loosen up, and try to at least look like you’re enjoying yourself. Since you’re not in the competition anymore… who knows?” He smiled darkly and licked at his lips. “Maybe you’ll meet another nice girl you can take home to meet the family. Now you’re all through with enjoying your life…”

  It had been a cheap shot, his reference to Anna. He knew fucking well it had been the pain of losing her, that had turned the whole idea of love into nothing but a game. A game to be played and always won… I had to grit my teeth to do it, but I managed to keep silent.

  Sutton slapped Ben on the back and jerked his head in the direction of the dancers. “The blonde in silver,” he said. “Prime pick, and I’ve put down ten thousand that I’ll have her before midnight. Jason’s in… how ‘bout you?”

  He shot a look at me, back over his shoulder. “Make sure you take care of the caterer for me, Chase?… before the night is over. I’ll be entirely too be busy…”

  They left me standing behind, feeling the all too familiar mix of arousal and disgust. I watched the blonde lift her arms up and gather the hair off the back of her lovely neck. She was the daughter of one of our company’s toughest competitors. Not a virgin, but known for being cautious… selective. Private.

  Sutton had his work cut out for him. And I had that old familiar itch…

  I downed what was left in my glass and headed for the bar. On the way, I passed the buffet. A huge round table, draped in white, held an edible sculpture of a nude man and woman locked in passionate embrace. It was made entirely of cake and marzipan, airbrushed with colors so delicate, the skin looked warm, the figures seemed just about to move. I glanced at the smaller delicacies that surrounded it, a menagerie of sweet seduction. Round, soft cakes with pink frosted nipples, set in pairs. Cookies in the sweet shape of a woman’s ass. Chocolate in every shade, sculpted into the shape of a man’s cock… I watched as a woman made her selection a
nd licked at the tip as her companion watched, smiling.

  “Is there anything you need, sir?”

  I turned at the gentle sound of her voice, and had to look down to see her face. She was every inch as sweet and perfect as her confections. Need had been an interesting choice of words…

  “I’m Emily, sir. Emily Parrish, the caterer,” she continued, shifting from one pink-heeled foot to the other. “Is everything to your satisfaction?”

  “Christopher Chase,” I said smoothly, putting my oversized hand out to envelop her tiny one. I felt the warmth of her fingers and a fleeting sensation, like an undercurrent, just underneath the surface of her skin. Sable brown hair curved around her shoulders, framing a heart-shaped face and a tantalizing amount of bared flesh. Her lips were full and slightly parted, as if she’d forgotten to close them. Clear green eyes, flecked with gold stared up at me and set up a pounding in my blood. I had a sudden, almost overwhelming desire to taste her skin. Deep down, I knew her flavor…

  “My satisfaction…, Miss Parrish?” I whispered the question, enjoying the feel of the words on my lips.

  “The evening’s only just begun…”

  4

  Emily

  I stared up, unable to tear my eyes away. I knew I was being rude… rude to my employer, no less. But I’d never seen him outside of glossy mag covers or newspaper headlines… He was Mr. Boothe’s senior business partner, and the head of a multibillion dollar company right here in LA. I figured he would be here tonight, but I never expected more than a passing glance and hopefully the balance due on tonight’s job. One thing was for sure, pictures didn’t do him justice. And pictures never made a good girl like me go weak in the knees and damp in the panties. But he did. And he wasn’t letting go of my hand…

  “We’ve never… I mean… this is the largest event we’ve done, Mr. Chase,” I rambled, annoyed at losing my composure, even for a moment. I took a deep breath and felt the confines of the black satin covering my breasts. “If there’s anything that doesn’t meet your expectations…”

  “You’ll be the first to know,” he said, in a voice so deep it seemed to resonate inside me. He gestured with his chin, but didn’t take his eyes off me. I felt the sudden awareness that he was as aware of my breathing as I was. “Your work is exquisite… exotic, to be sure. And yet surprisingly tasteful…” He ran his eyes over the sculpted cake and I felt myself blushing as I watched him. Even his glance, touching the sugary imitation of flesh, struck me as embarrassingly intimate…

  He was well over six feet, forcing me to tilt my head far back to meet his eyes. They were grey, the color of storm clouds, and his hair was thick, black, with a hint of curl that brushed the tops of his shoulders. The shadow of unshaven skin along his jaw made me ache for the feel of it… to discover if it was silky or coarse… For a second, I imagined how it would feel along the insides of my thighs…

  “Thank you, sir,” I said, a little too softly. He bent down as if to hear and I caught a woodsy, earthy scent that made me dizzy… “I should get back… if there’s nothing more I can do.”

  He smiled and his eyes grew even darker under their thick brows. He held my hand quietly, a moment longer… as if weighing a thought…

  “Of course,” he replied finally, letting go of my hand and leaving it chilling in the night air. “I should get back to my guests… and not keep you all to myself.” He turned away. I watched as he took a step, and then looked back over his shoulder. “Miss Parrish?”

  “Sir?”

  He gave me a look that made me ache inside with a need I couldn’t even put a name to.

  “Come and see me…

  before the evening is over.”

  “Who in god’s name was that?”

  Reese caught up with me as I was putting out a fresh spread of cookies. They were iced in petal pink, and more than suggestive of a woman’s most delicate places… “I’ll lay odds that’s a man who’s never heard the word no…”

  “Christopher Chase himself,” I breathed quietly, trying not to stare as he talked to a couple at the edge of the crowd.

  “...Hmmm… and good enough to eat,” Reese answered back smoothly. “So did he like what he saw? What did he say?” She frowned slightly, trying to smooth the ivory marzipan on the centerpiece. Some wise ass had taken a bite out of the female figure’s behind, leaving a sharp outline of teeth behind.

  “I think he was pleased…,” I said, trying to remember his words. Mostly all I remembered was how he’d made me feel… “I’m not entirely sure if he said.

  Here… let me…” I took out a small tub of icing and filled in the missing chunk of cake. “We’ll just avoid that spot when we carve these two up at the end of the night. We’re supposed to have it all plated before the fireworks start.”

  “Well, so far so good,” Reese said, trying to readjust her tiny costume to cover more. “Honestly, I was a little worried about tonight. Bachelorette parties are one thing… you’d expect them to want erotic pastries. Just as a cute gag, you know. But people like these… the elite of the elite. I wasn’t sure what kind of night this might turn out to be…”

  “I know,” I answered. “It’s why I wrote it into the contract that we’re strictly professional. You hear things sometimes… about how these parties can get a bit on the wild side.” I shot her a sidelong look. “No one’s gotten out of line with you…?”

  “Nope, sorry to say,” she said, waggling one brow at me. “But then I’m no fresh faced kid, like you and Tammy.” She handed me a tray of empty champagne flutes. “I’ve got wizened divorcee written all over me.”

  “Bullshit,” I whispered under my breath, trying to contain my grin. After twenty three years of living under my grandmother’s roof and confining sense of propriety, I still got a childish thrill from using words she’d find shocking. I glanced over at a male guest who was nibbling at the pink peak on one of our cupcakes and shivered with forbidden pleasure. How much of our company’s new direction was really about becoming competitive… and how much was my own late-blooming defiance…?

  “You’re sexy as hell in that outfit, Reese. And I’m not quite as fresh as you think.” I grinned and looked over toward the bar where Tam was shaking a martini. “But I think we should both keep an eye out for Tammy…

  Tell you what. You two can take a break and I’ll cover the bar. By the time you get back, it’ll be time to pour the champagne for the finale. I’ll take care of that while you guys slice up the cake.”

  “Thank god,” Reese sighed, waving a hand for Tam to head over. “I may not be able to walk in the morning if I don’t get twenty minutes out of these damned heels. I’m getting too old for this…”

  I scoffed politely, but smiled in sympathy. My feet were aching too, but I headed toward the bar with a fresh rack of glasses. There was less than an hour left before the fireworks, and by one a.m. we would be five thousand dollars richer…

  There were small slate-topped tables set near the polished steel bar, candlelight flickered from the center of each one. They were tall and narrow, with couples and groups clustered intimately around them. Glasses clinked gently and sparkled, reflecting the flames. The noisy energy from earlier in the evening was beginning to mellow now, and there were couples who had moved into the darker corners of the rooftop, seeking a moment of privacy. I noticed Sutton, the man who’d hired us, speaking to Tam. His face was close to hers and there was something fleeting in her expression… like a look of distaste…

  But she walked away with a tray of drinks, and he took her place behind the bar. A couple wandered up and ordered their drinks. Sutton smiled congenially and pulled the pretty blonde who was with him behind the bar. He stood behind her, his arms around her, helping her pour a scoop of ice into a cocktail shaker.

  “Miss Parrish,” he smiled warmly as I came closer, his eyes shining brilliantly. “You don’t mind if the host plays bartender for his guests, now do you?” His voice was deep and cajoling, thick with the pleasure o
f the evening. “I just wanted to introduce Victoria here, to the pleasures of making a Cosmopolitan.” I stood, holding my tray of glassware, watching as he covered the shaker and put it into her hands.

  “Tell me what to do next,” the blonde purred, her eyes as bright as Sutton’s. He shifted his body half a step forward until his chest was pressed tight against her back. I blinked, unsure why the air seemed filled with a strange tension. I watched as her hands began to move, not understanding why I couldn’t seem to look away. The ice clattered inside the steel cup and she started to shake it harder. Her breasts, barely contained by her dress, bounced… rubbing at the insides of her arms as she moved faster. The couple across from them seemed too interested in each other to notice, but I felt mesmerized. Not so much by what I was watching… but by how it was making me feel…

  “That’s right, Vicki,” Sutton murmured into the side of her neck. “Just like that… just a little more… and it’ll be perfect...”

  Shocked by my own confusing reactions, I sucked a mouthful of cool night air and forced myself to look away from them. I walked to the far end of the bar, determined to focus on doing my job. I knelt down discreetly, and slid my tray of stemware underneath. But when I started to stand up again, I saw…

  The girl’s dress was hiked up and tucked into the narrow belt surrounding her waist. She was exposed completely, panties gone, and stood on the tiptoes of her stiletto heels. Sutton’s slacks were open at the zipper.

  All but the last inch of his thick, dark cock was pushed far up inside her…

  5

 

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