Seduce: A Cariad Romance Three Book Bundle (Cariad Collections)

by Stein, Charlotte

  Hold on and ride the beast, cowgirl. Bite your lip to stifle the moans because you don’t want to wake the rest of the world with your unbridled passion, but, boy, it’s really difficult not to when being bad feels so good!

  Matt squeezes my breasts, tweaking my nipples as I grind down upon him, his cock absolutely rigid, and the sensation of moving him further inside me is irresistible. I feel the sensation build, the magical fluttering that once it takes hold there is no denying it and certainly no stopping it. He feels the contractions and pounds against me, thrusting his cock further in. I yell out my appreciation of his finer understanding of the intricate workings of this highly tuned body and then scream the house down as my orgasm takes hold. There is nowhere to run and simply nowhere to hide. I cling on and fuck my way out of trouble until we are both surfing the oblivion wave, reaching for the stars and then tumbling into glorious numbness.

  I hear the pounding of my heart and the gentle ebb and flow of his chest as the remnants of his orgasm drift away. His cock wilts inside me as he leans back against the side of the tub and wraps his arms around me, drawing me back against him, closer and closer still. This is no one-night stand. This is everything. We are entwined now, bequeathed to one another and tied by the beating of our hearts. They beat as one. No one can ever tear us apart.

  Chapter Nine

  Freakout City

  It’s been three days. Three days since I have tasted Matt’s sweet lips, three days since I’ve felt the heat of his body lying next to me and three days since I felt his cock inside me. I’m feeling extraordinarily horny and my cravings need to be sated. Nor does it help that I keep missing his calls. The reality of hooking up with a television celebrity is starting to dawn on me. It’s not easy. His time is not his own. Running my own business means my time is not my own either. We have no time and it’s driving me crazy!

  ‘Fuck it!’ The flour bag explodes all over me and momentarily I am blinded by all things powdery.

  ‘Nice,’ comments Carly, entering the nerve centre of Little Angels carrying two takeaway coffees. ‘I didn’t think the geisha look was in this season.

  ‘You’re so funny,’ I mutter, wiping flour from my eyes.

  ‘Drink this,’ she instructs.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, accepting the offered cup.

  She studies me for a moment before giving me her trademark frown. ‘What is it, country girl?’

  I wish I’d never uttered a word about Bradley’s moniker for me.

  ‘I can’t do this.’

  ‘Sure you can. You just have to apply less pressure next time when opening the flour bag to avoid an all-over coating.’

  ‘That’s not what I’m talking about.’

  ‘I know,’ she says, nodding, ‘but this opportunity is too good to waste.’ She nods at the flour disaster.

  ‘Mock me! What do I care?’

  ‘Don’t be like that, Ava. Look, you’re wound up because you have all these crazy feelings running around your body about Mr Heavenly Baker himself, and you’re frustrated because you can’t be with him.’

  ‘Am I frustrated?’

  ‘I don’t need the details, thank you,’ replies Carly. ‘That’s why you need quality alone time.’ She winks at me.

  I’m way too horny to be embarrassed about her comment. Seriously, I’m off-the-scale horny currently and nothing, but nothing, is taking my mind off my indulgent weekend with Matt. It’s not that I don’t think I’m going to see him again; it’s the not knowing when that is eating me up. Speaking of eating me up … No! It’s best not to go there.

  ‘Call him,’ suggests Carly.

  ‘I already have and it keeps going to voice mail.’

  ‘Clearly,’ she observes, ‘this is one of the perils of dating celebrities. They have no time.’

  ‘Clearly. But what if he’s avoiding calling me?’ I venture.

  ‘That’s not it.’ Carly quickly attempts to head off any potential emotional breakdown on my part. ‘You told me the instant you got back from your big weekend how into you Matt is. You wouldn’t have told me if you hadn’t been sure.’

  ‘Maybe I was caught up in the moment?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I’ve known you a long time, girlie, and I can read you pretty well. You think this is pretty special and I have no reason to doubt you on information given.’

  ‘But we both know how flaky guys can be.’

  ‘That’s true. But we’re talking about the Heavenly Baker. This is not some random guy. He wants you on his television show. He wouldn’t be that stupid to seduce you over a weekend and then bin you when you’re about to be a contestant. Think of the damage you could cause on live television. He’s not going to do that.’

  ‘This isn’t like you,’ I point out. ‘Normally you’re completely anti the guy.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ complains Carly.

  ‘Yes, it is. You’re Miss-Fly-By-Night, so why are you giving him any kudos at all?’

  ‘I saw how happy you were when you stepped off the train on Sunday afternoon.’

  ‘Then why doesn’t he call?’

  ‘Do you need some special alone time?’

  ‘No!’ I reply and this time I do blush. ‘I have a batch of cupcakes to make up and then I need to go through my competition entry.’

  ‘No, you don’t. We went over it Monday and again Tuesday. You have it down.’

  ‘I just want to be sure. This competition is a big deal.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me. But it is a brilliant business plan.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Sleeping with the host. If it all goes pear-shaped you can go straight to the papers,’ she points out’

  ‘I’m not going to do that.’

  ‘Don’t be too hasty,’ she suggests. ‘Winning the competition will put Little Angels firmly on the map and lead to untold wealth for you and me. It’s a win-win situation all the way. Sleeping with the host just adds an added level of insurance.’

  ‘I’m not sleeping with him because I want to win the competition!’

  ‘I know that, but it’s got to help.’

  ‘Do you really have so little faith in our abilities as bakers?’

  ‘I have every faith,’ she insists. ‘But you sleeping with the host clearly gives us the edge.’

  ‘It’s not like that. There’s a real chemistry between us.’

  ‘So you do believe it?’ Carly smiles wickedly.

  ‘Yes,’ I say.

  ‘Good, so stop stressing. I think he’s one of the good guys.’

  ‘But you haven’t met him.’

  ‘I know, but I get a good feeling about him and I’m rarely wrong where matters of the heart are involved.’

  Carly looks extremely pleased and then it dawns on me. ‘What are you not telling me?’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell.’

  ‘You’re hiding something from me. You know I’ll find out.’

  ‘You haven’t so far,’ comments my best friend, which means she does know something.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I couldn’t possibly say.’ She looks at her watch. ‘But I think you’re about to find out.’

  Right on cue the bell above the entrance chimes, announcing the arrival of a potential customer.

  ‘I’ll go,’ offers Carly, skipping out before I can stop her.

  ‘What aren’t you telling me?’ I call out after her.

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ she calls back.

  ‘Tell me!’

  The door to the nerve centre opens.

  ‘You know, I didn’t have you down as a shouter.’

  He’s here. He’s right here in my bakery. Somehow Carly knew and I will find out, but later because now I just don’t care. Matt Richards is here on my home turf and he looks heavenly dressed in a clingy black tee, jeans and boots, his hair freshly cut.

  ‘Wow! You’re here.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘You’re actually here.’


  ‘Yes.’

  I could talk to him. I could complain about trying to phone him endlessly but it doesn’t matter. It’s all white noise anyway. All that matters is that he is here and I’m feeling super-horny. I can feel the electricity in the air. I can tune everything else out and hear his heartbeat across the room. This is real. What I feel for this man cannot be faked and I see the way that he is looking at me; the easy smile is there but I see the hunger behind his eyes and I know he is hurting as much as I am. We both want this and nothing is going to stop it from happening. In hindsight, though, we probably should have got a room.

  I fling myself at him as if compelled into his arms by some monstrous magnet. He hugs me to him as his lips search out mine and his tongue is hungry and desperate to reacquaint itself with mine. His kisses sizzle, igniting my loins and setting a thousand fuses around my body. His touch is TNT. Blow me away. Like a storm that has been building, leaving the air heavy and pregnant with desire, this wanting within us both cannot be controlled. We are lava bubbling and boiling and in danger of eruption and nothing will prevent the inevitable from becoming a reality.

  We are not silent and we are not subtle. The red mist has descended and we can see no further than sating our own pent-up desires and frustrations. I feel him tug at my jeans, slipping the button free and dragging the denim roughly away. He doesn’t ask. There is no need. His fingers peel away the silk of my panties, feeling me hot and wet and needy. He finds me and the touch of his finger against my pearl causes me to cry out. And then he is silencing my moans with his lips and his tongue drives harder into me and his finger continues to work me into a frenzy and I feel like I am in heaven.

  Matt unbuckles one-handed and then I take over, delving into the deep to unleash his beast. The feel of him, so hard and wanting, is reassuring to a girl who has been plagued by ridiculous nagging doubts for these past three days.

  ‘Condom,’ he whispers into my ear as I start to play, though concentrating on anything is tricky when it feels so good having him finger-fuck me.

  ‘Where is it?’ I manage to ask.

  ‘My back pocket,’ he murmurs, as he continues to destroy me from the inside out.

  ‘Slow down,’ I whisper dreamily. ‘Otherwise it’s going to be over before we’ve even got started.’

  ‘It just feels so good feeling you again. I can’t help myself.’

  ‘I’ve really missed you.’ I have to bite my tongue from saying something potentially more explosive.

  Feeling my way into his back pocket, I locate the little package. Recovering the precious cargo, I rip the seal as Matt shrugs off his jeans and drops his shorts. He is good to go so I roll the condom smoothly over him before stealing a kiss and then another and then I can’t seem to let go of his lips. Reaching around me, he picks me up with strong arms and I wrap my legs around him, feeling his cock brush against me, and the yearning to have him inside me is intense beyond belief. Dragging my panties away, he enters me and I gasp. It is such a sweet sensation.

  Seeking this pleasure high, we bounce around the bakery, creating chaos in our wake, but I can’t worry or focus on anything except for the sensation of Matt thrusting in and out of me and this burning need for release. I will have my release. I feel him thrust harder into me, feel myself being filled up to my core, and then the delicious rub of his cock against me, this sensual massage as he slips away, the subtle friction of cock against vagina as he slips away again and immediately it happens I am greedy for more. I want him driving back inside me, pushing deeper until he has filled my void entirely and there is nowhere left for him to go.

  The spark of the match, the hiss and fizz as the friction against the side of the matchbox causes it to ignite – I feel it now as my sex sparks and ignites and the contractions begin and the sensations build. It is the great wave that the surfers wait patiently out on the water for, bobbing like so many seals out in the swells, until it appears on the horizon and they take their place in the line-up, paddling hard, paddling true until the wave catches and they are away, carried along on a wave of energy and euphoria. I feel the euphoria surge through me as my orgasm builds and breaks, cling to Matt as he thrusts into me, his cock reacting to the contractions that emanate from my core, feel him spasm and splurge, but I am denied the sensation of his come inside me, and momentarily I am disappointed. But the feeling is fleeting as a numbing bliss settles over me. I close my eyes and let the numbness take over.

  I smile. I sigh. Eventually I open my eyes to …

  A scene of utter carnage.

  ‘Oops!’ I murmur.

  ‘Call the police,’ whispers Matt. ‘I think you’ve been burgled.’ He smiles.

  I can’t help but laugh. Nothing else matters when he is with me.

  Chapter Ten

  Competition Face On

  I wonder if this is how cardiac arrest feels. My heart is beating off the scale and it concerns me that it might actually explode out of my chest, Alien-style. Now that would be a television moment that would be picked up to run for eternity on YouTube.

  Matt is running through last-minute script changes with the writers as the make-up girls flit around us like butterflies. I should be mentally running through my preparations for our first bake-off, but it is a struggle to tear my eyes away from him and focus on the job in hand. Thinking of jobs in hand; Matt’s cock in my hand would be a stress relief – or maybe his cock somewhere else?

  Stop it! Concentrate, foolish girl, or this gilt-edged opportunity will be over before it has begun and then you will have to face the wrath of Carly.

  ‘Hey, how are you?’ A familiar face breaks me out of my thoughts.

  ‘I’m OK, I think,’ I reply, immediately warmed by Laura’s smile.

  ‘You’ll be killer,’ she whispers, squeezing my arm encouragingly.

  ‘Thanks, but I don’t feel killer. The others are brilliant. I feel like I’m here to make up the numbers.’

  ‘Rubbish!’ scoffs Laura. ‘The competition is yours for the taking.’

  ‘I doubt that!’

  She smiles again. ‘That’s right. Matt did warn me that you weren’t good with pressure.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘What’s your definition of pressure?’ asks Laura. ‘Baking to order for your array of customers sounds like pressure to me.’

  ‘I don’t see it like that,’ I admit.

  ‘So it’s really a question of interpretation, then. See this as an opportunity to show off your baking skills and nothing more. And if the judges ask you to come back next week then that’s a bonus.’

  ‘That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose.’

  ‘Why can’t you see it?’ she asks.

  ‘Matt asked me the same question in the pub the first time I came to London. It’s not that I’m arrogant or fishing for compliments; I just don’t see it.’

  ‘I know you don’t see how amazing you are, but you will,’ Laura assures me. ‘The television coverage is alien to you, but it doesn’t have to be. You’re just baking for people, the thing you’ve been doing all your life. It’s the thing you love to do.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘So remember that.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘It’s important that you do because I, for one, don’t want to see you go home early.’

  ‘Thank you, Laura.’

  ‘Thank you, Ava.’

  ‘What have I done?’ I ask.

  ‘I haven’t seen him this happy for months.’

  ‘But he’s always happy, isn’t he?’

  ‘No, he’s not,’ admits Laura. ‘He’s just very good at hiding it.’

  I didn’t know that but I do now.

  Let the games begin.

  Interview after interview and an interminable amount of waiting around and I’m starting to get the feeling that this television business isn’t for me. I duck out to visit the bathroom, just to collect my thoughts and get a handle on this newfound madness that has suddenly become my life, and I�
�m walking down corridors I really don’t know, trying to mind my own business.

  ‘Hey, gorgeous, you’re not thinking about leaving, are you?’

  Before I can answer he takes me by the hand and sweeps me into his body, kissing me with those lips I have been lusting after all morning before dragging me into a cupboard.

  ‘Well, this is romantic!’ I murmur.

  ‘This is television, baby,’ Matt whispers. ‘Didn’t they warn you about the glamour?’

  ‘It must have slipped their minds,’ I reply, happy enough to be anywhere with him. ‘I’m trying really hard to be professional and not stare at you the whole time but it’s really hard.’

  ‘It will be in a moment,’ he admits.

  ‘We haven’t got time. But I’m willing to give it a go if you are.’

  ‘You dirty girl!’ he exclaims, mock-surprised.

  ‘You don’t know the half of it.’

  ‘But I’m desperate to find out.’

  ‘Promises, promises,’ I whisper as he nuzzles my neck and then he breaks free and my neck seems to scream for his imminent return.

  ‘Seriously, how are you?’ He gazes at me intently.

  ‘Honestly?’

  ‘Yes, honestly.’

  ‘I’m struggling. This world is alien to me and the calibre of the competition is dazzling. I’m so out of my league.’

  He takes my hand in his and raises our hands until he can kiss mine. ‘Don’t think like that. Each of you was chosen on the merits of your baking ability. You’re just as good as the others, but it’s personality that counts. You need to let your personality shine through.’