FRIDAY: Laced with Spice (Hookup Café Book 5)

by Fifi Flowers

  Mesmerized, I said nothing like an idiot, but with perfect timing, Pansie arrived with menus and her wine suggestions. “Good evening. May I interest either of you in a glass… or bottle of wine? Depending on your food selections, I would recommend a nice red Sangiovese to go with our Ribeye—it’s Laced with Spice.” I could not believe she was mentioning my codes and smirking at me. “Or if you are leaning toward our fish of the day which is a seared ahi, I would say a Rosé or a Sauvignon Blanc is a great choice. I personally love a Pinot Grigio, but we did just get this new white in and I hear it is to die for… definitely not Out of Coffee.”

  Mason looked confused, tilting his head, and I assumed that it was her mention of coffee. I understood her meaning, perfectly. “Who knew you were such a sommelier.” I shook my head and Pansie laughed. “Mason, this is my best friend Pansie, she owns the café. Pansie, this is Mason whom I don’t know much about yet. So give us a bottle of wine…”

  “Sangiovese. Spiced with Lace sounds promising to me,” he chimed in.

  “Laced with Spice…” I corrected him and he raised an eyebrow. “But… the wine sounds perfect to me. I’m not much of a pairing wines kind of girl. I like what I like and go all out to get the job done.” I realized that I was no longer talking about the wine like he seemed to have done mentioning spicy lace, and redirected my comments. “Red is my preferred shade of wine.”

  Quickly, our date appeared to be heading toward sexiness. Chilling it down a bit, I asked him what he did for a living and he told me that he worked in communications. He was in charge of a new division of a big company and I had to say—to myself—that it sounded extremely boring as I pictured him trying to sell people phone services. I had no problem switching gears to what I did for a living as the owner of Salon Luxe. I truly love working as a beauty engineer and I love the look on people’s faces when I tell them my job title.

  I was pretty sure he probably thought I was out of my mind crazy. I was also pretty sure that he was ready to see just how crazy I was between the sheets. The date might not be headed toward a perfect connection involving marriage and babies, but I was certain we were on the path to meaningless sex at the end of the evening—it was just the matter of whose home we would end up in, connecting on a lusty level.

  Even eating our selected meals had turned into a sexual act as he insisted that we try each other’s food by extending forks to eagerly opened mouths. We were both pretty vocal when it came to appreciating the café’s cuisine. I loved that he moaned almost as much as I did and I had visions of cooking breakfast for him in the morning.

  “You moan when you eat.” He was the first to point a finger.

  “So do you. And you, also, close your pretty blueish-green eyes when you sip your wine… and you inhale it too. You appear to have an affinity for good food.”

  “So you like my eyes?” He winked at me and changed the subject as I felt my face heat. Did he actually make me blush? No one did that to me. “I can’t believe I never knew about this place. It’s a hidden gem… like finding a hidden gem.”

  “Not hidden anymore.” I smiled, sipping from my wine glass.

  “You seem to like to contradict me with words.” He was right; since the first moment he greeted me, I had been defensive. “There’s no competition going on between us… and if there was, I would always win.” He smirked at me as if he was waiting for my rebuttal… anticipating my reaction, and sure enough, I fell into his trap.

  “Ha! You don’t know me very well.”

  “I have a feeling I could put you in your place.” His remark had me wondering exactly what was hidden behind the clean cut look he exhibited—something about him screamed naughty boy… bad boy. Which wouldn’t surprise me, I always seemed to gravitate toward them but never ones that looked innocent like Mason.

  Innocence is in the eye of the beholder? No, not it. Quiet but deadly? Closer. Beware the silent type? He wasn’t exactly the silent type… just the opposite, he was highly opinionated… like me. Looks can be deceiving? Yes, once again, I was reminded of Saylor’s warning.

  “I’d like to see you try.” I definitely saw fire in his eye with my challenge.

  “Let me let you in on a little secret. I think that it is sexy as fuck…” I was a bit taken back by his use of the f-word, it didn’t seem like it would stumble from his lush lips. “… when you moan while eating. Another little insight, you close your eyes… your eyes even roll back in your head when you’re savoring your wine, and your food. The little shudders your body makes has me cursing the fact that we are not somewhere more private and…” And seemed to dangle in the air forever. “And I really want a taste of your lips right now.”

  I was speechless when I really wanted to say, “ooh la la, bring it on.” And, as if my lack of a retort was an invitation, he leaned toward me and ran his lips over mine seductively before capturing my mouth right there in the café for all to see.

  He had me wanting to skip out the front door for more. Yet, after that heated exchange and that equally steamy kiss that left me panting and soaking wet, I was surprised that we stayed and had dessert. But then again, I had boasted all about Marzi’s baking skills so much that he was ready to order dessert first. Assuring him that you had to save the best for last, we made it through every course and then shared a couple of new recipe mini cakes. A spiced ginger with a cream cheese frosting topped with a marzipan grasshopper and then, of course, an “orgasmic cake” as Pansie announced it. It was truly explosive like the cookies or maybe even better as it was moan-worthy. Imagine a decadent sinful brownie cake like no other with mascarpone buttercream frosting—a naughty looking flower decorated the top of that one.

  “You do know you owe me.” I tilted my head, slipping the last morsel of cake icing from my fork, and licked my lips as he watched me intently. “Did you drive?”

  “No, I hired a car.” All the better for you to drive me home.

  “I’m taking you home.” Oh, goody! We’re on the same page... I hoped.

  “And then what?” I had a feeling I knew exactly what that meant, but something told me he was a dirty talker—he had made many innuendoes already—and my body was dying to know details.

  Leaning forward, he didn’t disappoint, at all. “You have been moaning, licking your fork, sucking food off mine. I’d like to see how it feels to have my cock in your mouth.” Check please!

  Chapter Three…

  Out of the café, he guided me to his car—a gorgeous white Jaguar coupe—tucked into his side with my arm wrapped around his muscular arm. Once we were situated in the car, Mason instructed me to type my address into his phone. Then while we listened to soft rock music playing in the background, his navigation system chimed in and told him directions to my place, not far from the café.

  On my street, I told him to pull into the underground parking, gave him the gate code, and then had him park next to my convertible, mocha latte Fiat. Turning off the ignition, he walked around the car and opened my door. Taking his outstretched hand, he helped me out of the passenger seat, and pushed me up against the side of his car. I could feel his hard length against me and my eyelids getting heavy, consumed in lust. His tongue slid along the seam of my lips before he attacked my mouth with his, nothing like the sweet hint of tongue kisses he had given to me at our café table, or even in the parking lot before I slipped into the passenger seat. The new set of kisses were more animalistic, like he was hungry.

  The kisses continued up four short floors after I punched in my elevator code that bypassed the other floors and shot to the top floor. The brief ride with me pushed up against the wall had me wishing that I lived in a building with several more stories. When the doors opened directly into my unit, reluctantly, we broke apart, and stepped out, side by side, into my small foyer that I adored coming home to especially during the daylight with its bay view out one of the floor to ceiling windows. Not taking another step, Mason looked around the space and then up to a dimly lit crystal fixture. “S
tunning chandelier.” Stunning seemed to be a favorite descriptive word in his vocabulary.

  “My mother always had a medium size round table under it—fresh flowers were forever present in the same vase. I only kept her mirror.” I pointed to a black framed, full-length mirror leaning up against a wall on the left side of a hallway that went straight down the middle of the unit. “I added the bench…” It sat on the other side of the hall. “…under my ooh la la pride and joy painting by Lily LaSalle.”

  On unsteady legs, thanks to my high heeled sandals and a bit too much wine—not drunk, tipsy—for me, I strolled away from him to my hot pink tufted bench as he asked about my love of Paris. “I went as a pre-teen. I would love to go back someday as an adult,” I said, looking at the painting when he asked if it was acquired in Paris. I told him how I had purchased the Parisian balcony scene highlighted with a sexy pair of legs up in the air wearing pink shoes from the ODE Gallery in LA. The artist had a special showing and I was fortunate enough to attend with my surf instructor. She’s also an amazing landscape artist.

  Done with my narration, I turned to look at Mason a few feet away, burning into my flesh with his smoldering eyes. Lowering my pulsing body down onto the bench where a couple pairs of shoes had already been discarded beneath, I reached down to start unstrapping my sandals.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, standing directly in front of me and I wondered how he moved so fast.

  “Taking my shoes off.” I looked up into eyes that were an even darker shade than they had been earlier.

  “Leave them on and unzip my pants.” I glanced down and noticed that his package was at the perfect height for me to blow his fucking mind. Oh yeah! Things were about to get really hot and steamy.

  Licking my lips, looking back up, I reached forward with my hand and stroked the nice bulge in the front of his jeans as I watched him unbutton his casual dress shirt. “I don’t remember telling you to tease me. I got enough of that in the café. Now, take my cock out and wrap your lips around it.”

  Looking up at him, I tried not to smirk as my hands worked together, unhooking his pants at the waistband and lowering the zipper slowly. With my eyes drawn down to see the prize, a tan line and nicely groomed man hair captured my attention. “I didn’t think you’d be a commando kind of guy. You’re full of surprises.” And that proved to be quite an understatement once I freed him from the confines of his denims. “Very nice,” I remarked before he instructed me, again.

  “In your hot little mouth, no hands.” Then his hands were in my hair, guiding me, and I nearly laughed thinking about girls who wore extensions in their hair. Imagine a guy fucking a girl’s face, tugging on her hair, and finding a handful of hair in his hands. “Are you toying with me again? You better watch it or you will find your ass the same shade of pink as this bench.”

  Holy shit! Ooh la la! My own Christian Grey, wait until I tell Vixen.

  Not certain that I was up for the whole spanking thingy, as it had never been done to me before, but I was definitely intrigued and my body quivered at the thought. I found myself smiling around the big task staring me in the face and disappearing halfway down my throat. Not really a task, as giving a blow job is one of my favorite pastimes in the realm of sexual fun and games. However, I liked to be in control and it seemed that he did as well. And since his strong hands were grasping me, I went with the flow to a point. He couldn’t govern the flick and roll of my tongue or the sucking power of my jaw against his massive cock. I used all of my oral techniques to my advantage and had him groaning. “Oh so fucking… oh fuck… my…” He couldn’t seem to finish any of his sentences… phrases… thoughts as I swallowed and vibrated his length until he erupted. Proud of myself, I smirked as I finished licking him clean.

  Wrong thing to do with Mason. Though he couldn’t complain about the end result as his cock appeared to be very happy, but he didn’t seem to be thrilled with my lack of following directions. That was made obvious when I found myself pulled up from the plush bench after he tucked himself in and closed up his zipper, leaving the top button undone—a sexy as fuck look. Quickly, the view changed to me looking at my LaSalle painting as he lifted my dress to my waist.

  “Bend forward, hands on the wall. No panties.” The next sound I heard delivered by him was his hand making contact with my bare skin followed by questioning words. “Is it nice to be teasing me?” My right cheek stung. “Was it too much to please me as I asked?” My left cheek learned how my other one felt. “Sometimes it’s best to listen.” He was back to the other side and I noticed my breathing was getting quicker. “Sometimes it’s nice to let someone else be in charge.” My heart was pounding with the next slap to the opposite side again. “I’m the boss where you and I are concerned… say it, don’t nod your head.” I hadn’t even realized that I had moved my head in any direction.

  I was in shock. Were all of his words in the café about putting me in my place, his way of letting me know that he preferred dominance? And had my challenging words told him in some way that I was into being submissive? I wasn’t sure of anything as I felt like I was floating somewhere outside of my body. What was happening to me seemed unreal. Was I losing my mind? Why was being spanked by him turning me on… exciting me? Was it me that was panting words that sounded a whole lot like “more” and “please” while pushing back into his touch?

  Then his hands stilled their motion and he grasped the sides of my ass. “Spread your legs.” Eager to see what was happening next, I stepped my feet apart. “So pretty. So pink. So fragrant. So delicious.” Yes, his mouth was whispering against my lusty lower lips and licking me from back to front and back again. Sweeping continually in a perfect rhythm. “Stay still.” His mouth abandoned me and I wanted to scream “no,” but I stayed perfectly still, hoping that his highly skilled tongue and lips would return to pleasuring me. “Yes,” I moaned as they did and I was even more delighted when fingers invaded my very wet lusty loft. Closer and closer, my body was on fire running toward a volatile ending that had my body beginning to twitch and shake. “That’s it. Come now!” That was one ooh la la command I refused to disobey and I did just as he had instructed me.

  “That was amazing,” I said, breathlessly.

  “That was just a warm up.” He pulled my body up, back against his, unbending me, and removing my hands from the wall, on either side of my painting. “We’re not done by a long shot. Now, show me to your bedroom.” His voice tingled my ear and perked my nipples thinking of more orgasmic moments with him. And I was thankful for the box of condoms I had in a drawer next to my bed.

  Shimming my dress back down over my bare ass, I turned around to face him, took his hand, and pulled him down the dark hallway to my bedroom door. “You know I didn’t tell you to pull your dress down. I would’ve liked to see your ass swaying in front of me, marked with my handprint.”

  “I didn’t think it would matter since it’s dark.” Seriously?! Were his handprints still visible?

  “It’s not your job to think when I’m taking charge.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to spank me again?”

  “Not necessarily. I think you might like that too much. I might not let you come for the rest of the night.”

  Oh no, that was not going to be my punishment. I guarantee he was going to have his ass kicked to the curb before I let that happen. I had been bringing on my own orgasms for years when a man couldn’t bring me all the way across the finish line.

  Entering my bedroom, I twisted the dimmer switch to a little less than halfway and then clicked it on. Just enough light to set the mood. “Get undressed and then undress me,” was his next command.

  Happy with his direction, I asked for his assistance with the back zipper that was much easier to pull up than down. And to be honest, there is something incredibly sexy about feeling a man unzip your dress. Mason didn’t disappoint as his long fingers skimmed my exposed back and unhooked my nude colored bra. Expecting to turn around on my own accord
and let my garments hit the floor, he surprised me by spinning me in his arms, and attacking my mouth.

  I was no longer being instructed to disrobe him as he managed to unhook his own pants one handed while his other hand had grasped and twisted my hair in his fist to better control the deepening of our kiss. Next, his shirt joined his pants and when our bodies met flesh to flesh, I literally swooned in his la la lovely arms causing us to plunge onto my bed. I wish I could say that one of us had planned that move but, alas, it was purely by accident. A brilliant one that had me quickly reaching for protection and him rolling it down his erection before expertly impaling me with it. The first round was frantic and wild, lacking all control on either of our parts but ending with an equally pleasing result that culminated in two people moaning and screaming profanities mixed with familiar names. And while the last round of the night was lazy and slow before we crashed, it seemed to be the most meaningful—filled with passionate caresses and lingering kisses like those of a consummate lover.

  Unlike most nights where I had found myself jumping straight into bed with a man, we were still in each other’s presence the following morning. Although, I had slipped out of bed early thanks to my phone ringing in my shiny bronze box purse left in the foyer the night before. I could’ve slid right back in next to his warm body, but I decided to let him make the next move, and I was certain he would like that. So instead, dressed in a heather grey fitted t-shirt and sheer, see-through panties, I went to the kitchen to ready things for breakfast.