A Fine Romance

by Christi Barth

  The freaking sun had set half an hour ago. Sam knew he’d already crossed a line once today, intruding on her business. No way could he give in to instinct, pull a caveman routine and go over there and drag her back to his lair. Patience was his only option. It was killing him.

  “Good night, Hays. Thanks so much for all your hard work today.” Mira’s voice set him off like a starting gun at a racetrack. He shot through the door, leading with his shoulder to push it open.

  “Sam?” Surprise colored her tone as she finished locking the front door. “Isn’t it late for you to be at work?”

  “Yes.” He couldn’t manage more than that one word. His mouth dried up just looking at her, knowing what he hoped like hell they were about to do.

  “You look so nice.”

  Self-conscious, he smoothed the front of his midnight-blue shirt. Gib called it The Closer. Sam just knew that, paired with his black slacks, it worked in any romantic situation from casual date to fancy restaurant. In other words, nice enough to hopefully entice Mira back through the door. “As you pointed out, the green frosting left its mark all over me. The Kermit look isn’t really in right now.”

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  “You.”

  Mira dropped her keys to the floor. “Excuse me?”

  Shit. For two seconds, his dick had taken over the speech center of his brain. He scrambled to fix it. “I, uh, hope you’re not too worn out. It’s late for you to be here, too.”

  She turned off the bank of lights that covered the front half of the store. “Are you kidding? Today was easy. Amazing what a difference having another person makes. Hays is tireless and motivated and enthusiastic.”

  Sam could be all those things. Hell, he was all those things. Just not about her store. But the minute he got Mira into his bed, he’d show her just how tireless he could be. “I’m glad you finally have some help.”

  She disappeared into the back office for a minute, then reappeared carrying a lavender windbreaker, folded to show the Aisle Bound logo. “Me, too. At first, it bothered me that Ivy hired him without consulting me. I mean, I know it’s her store on paper, but at this point, it’s really my store. The problem is that I took it personally.” Mira closed her eyes and shook her head. “Entirely the wrong reaction. Hiring Hays was just good business. Ivy had the best interest of the store at heart. We both do. Silly of me to get so possessive. After spending the day with him, I can tell Hays is going to work out great.”

  He had to stop her. When Mira started talking about the store, she tended to keep going indefinitely. On a normal night, Sam didn’t mind. Full of passion, Mira could make reciting the multiplication tables interesting. Tonight, however, he would not be swayed from his mission.

  “Mira.”

  She paused in shoveling the entire contents of the countertop into her purse. “Yes?”

  How to begin without just jumping her? “You’re very smart.”

  “Thank you. Any particular reason you’re dispensing that compliment? I don’t remember saying anything brilliant since you walked in.”

  “You gave me some sage advice this morning.”

  “Really?” She looked pleased, then slid her purse strap onto her arm. “The day’s been crazy. Refresh my memory. How brilliant was I?”

  “Very.” Sam batted at the rest of the light switches with his elbow. Now they were both backlit by only the dim light filtering over from the bakery. He strode forward, full of purpose and hoping like hell he’d read all her earlier signals right. “You told me to stake my claim. I’d have to be dead ten years and brainless not to act on that invitation.” Framing her tiny waist with his hands, Sam bent over her, his mouth a breath away from her. “I know you’ve had a long day, and a longer week, and a draining six months. But do you think I can entice you to stay up with me tonight? Just the two of us? Nobody else, no interruptions, and no clothes?”

  Mira’s breath caught. “Trust me. I’d be the brainless idiot if I turned down an offer that good.”

  “Glad we’re on the same page. Now put your legs around me,” he ordered. It took no effort to lift her to meet his kiss. He’d spent the entire afternoon telling himself to take it slow. Yet the moment their lips met, even the possibility of going slow went right out the window. Especially with her legs hugging his waist and her breasts tight against his chest. Heat flashed between them, a spark almost visible in the darkness. They were through the door in two steps. Sam kicked it shut with his foot.

  In the cooler he had already plated chicken salad, broccoli in a lemon vinaigrette and a raspberry mousse pie. Sam readjusted his plan for the night. All the food would be there when they finished. Unless she called a hunger time-out, Mira’s dinner would have to wait. Because he sure as hell couldn’t any longer.

  “Did I mention how nice you look?”

  “You did.”

  “I mention it again, because I’ve simply got to touch you. If you don’t take that very nice shirt off right this second, I’m going to rip it off you with my teeth.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” Sam turned sideways to slide into the work area, then adjusted his grip on Mira to one hand supporting her ass. With the other he pulled open the door to the cold room. In most restaurants they called a closet-sized refrigerator a walk-in. But at Lyons Bakery, the entire back of the store had been turned into a refrigerated room. It was impossible to bake a four-tier wedding cake from scratch, frost and decorate it the same day and deliver it. On any given week there might be five or six cakes in various stages of decoration on the glassed-in refrigerated shelves, along with an entire rack of cake layers. He’d also carved out a small section for his chocolate truffles. In the middle of the room sat his white marble island, where all the magic happened. Why break tradition?

  Candles burned in the sink, giving off a flickering light that danced shadows across the walls. He set her on the end of the island, leaving her legs dangling. Then, ever respectful of her needs, Sam quickly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it into a corner. “Happy now?”

  Mira placed her palms on his chest and started rubbing in slow, teasing circles. “Very.”

  “Uh-huh. I demand equity and fair play in this relationship. Yours, too.”

  In a flash, Mira tugged her shirt over her head, revealing a lacy cream bra. “Satisfied?”

  “No. That’s not going to work at all for what I have planned.”

  She looked down at her chest. “What’s wrong with my bra? Remember, I didn’t know we were having a date tonight, or I would’ve pulled out the really good undies.”

  God, if only she knew the effect she had on him, no matter what clothes she wore. Already his dick pressed against the fly of his pants with the insistence of a battering ram. “Your bra is sexy. Every perfect inch of you is beautiful. But we’re about to get messy, and you’re wearing white.” Before she could ask questions, he’d flicked open the clasp and slipped the straps down her arms. Then he leaned her back, her head landing on the soft stack of towels he’d placed there as a pillow.

  “What are you up to, Sam?”

  “Close your eyes and you’ll find out.” The minute she obeyed, he pulled a squirt bottle out of the pan of warm water on the stove. He soooo wanted to stand out from any other guy who’d been lucky enough to see her naked. For their first time, by-the-numbers sex wouldn’t be enough. Sam intended to give her an experience she’d never forget.

  With the same careful precision he used to create the intricate basket weave designs on wedding cakes, he squeezed the warm, melted chocolate onto her breast in a heart shape. Then he opened his mouth around that creamy mound and began to lick. The thick stickiness of the chocolate made him rasp his tongue a little harder as he swirled up, down and around. Every stroke lashed against her nipple, which instantly hardened to a delicate point. Mira locked her legs back around his
waist.

  “That’s...oh my...you know how to get me from zero to sixty in about one heartbeat,” she said breathlessly. “God, Sam, I feel it everywhere. Like you crawled into my bloodstream and are licking every inch of my body at once.”

  “Good.” He was reduced, yet again, to monosyllables. With his concentration split equally between pleasuring Mira and not exploding like a virgin from the sheer sweetness of her, Sam couldn’t spare any brain power to talk. He squeezed out another fat drop of chocolate sauce, this time right on the pale pink tip of her other nipple. Sensitized at this point, she squirmed against him. Enjoying the view, he waited, and squeezed out another drop.

  “Please, Sam,” she begged.

  The flat of his tongue worked the nipple, back and forth. It only lasted a few seconds before she fisted her hands in his hair and yanked him up for a kiss. Her tongue darted into his mouth, seeking and swirling. Then Mira gasped. Her eyelids flew open.

  “What is that?”

  Crap. She was tasting the chocolate. He’d thought about using honey, but it was twenty times stickier and frankly, less fun. Sam had figured since he would be the only one licking the viscous sauce, Mira wouldn’t have to know he’d used the chocolate she’d loathed for so long.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s the most exquisite thing I’ve ever tasted.”

  “Really?” Ridiculously pleased, he picked up the bottle. “I make it myself. A special blend with extra vanilla and a kick of cinnamon.”

  “Skip the ingredient list. Just tell me what it is?”

  Had it been so many years she really didn’t recognize the flavor? Once he told her, would she be mad? “Melted chocolate sauce.”

  “No. Seriously?”

  Sam waggled the bottle in front of her nose. “I never joke about chocolate.”

  She nipped it right out of his fingers. Then she tilted her head back and squeezed a long, steady stream right into her mouth. It could very well be the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. A throaty purr came from deep in her throat. “I hope you didn’t have plans for the rest of this bottle. There won’t be any left by the end of the night.” Mira captured his mouth. The sweet, dark aftertaste of his chocolate mingled with her own sweet flavor. It pushed Sam straight over the edge.

  It only took one good yank to strip off her yoga pants. She toed off her sneakers while he stepped out of his slacks and ripped open the condom he’d strategically left at one corner of the island. As he slid it on, he planted his feet wide. “Mira, I don’t want to rush you.”

  “Impossible. You primed me on our date at the Botanic Garden. You pushed me about twenty steps past ready in the elevator at the Cavendish. All I’ve done for days is think about getting you naked. I appreciate the thought, and the way you’ve reopened my eyes to the delights of the cacao bean. But what I would appreciate more than any tender foreplay or sweet nothings whispered in my ear is you driving yourself into me. Now.”

  No wonder he’d fallen so hard for this woman. Sam anchored his hands on her hips, tugging her a little closer to the edge of the island. Locking eyes with her, he entered in one smooth, slow stroke. Mira bowed off the marble with a long moan. He drew back, practically seeing stars from the soft tightness she squeezed around his dick in warm pulses. Again he drove into her, sinking into her welcoming, perfect fit.

  This time when she arched up, she stayed, planting her hands flat on the marble to steady herself. The position allowed Sam to latch on to her breast and suck in rhythm to his strokes. The combination of seeing her luscious breasts, tasting them and losing himself inside her stoked the fire inside him past all control. Faster and faster he pumped. Mira answered him with breathy little cries and pants, locking her ankles together on his back and meeting every thrust.

  “Sam, oh, you’re amazing. It feels so... I can’t wait...” Her head dropped back and she let out a satisfied scream as he exploded inside her, waves of rippling pleasure washing over him. Before the last inner pulse subsided, Sam gathered her close and kissed her the rest of the way to senseless.

  “Wow. I mean, wow!”

  Sam agreed one hundred percent. “And that was just my chocolate sauce. Wait til you see what happens when you taste my whiskey caramel sauce.”

  She threw back her head and laughed. “Looks like I’d be smart to test every flavor.”

  “Fine by me.” Sam loved it when laughter and fun could be a part of sex. With one last kiss, he disentangled himself. Walking over to the sink, he disposed of the condom in the trash can and blew out the candles. “If you want something a little more substantial, though, I’ve got dinner ready for us.”

  Mira gave a dramatic gasp and made an exaggerated show of covering her mouth with her hands. “You mean even though you’ve had your way with me, you still want me around the rest of the night?” she teased.

  Beginning to root in his belly was the certainty he’d want Mira around a lot longer than just one night. “You bet. Except, I’ve left you super sticky. How about we go to my place and we can take a shower? You’d be amazed at how good I can be with a bar of soap.”

  “Talk about the ultimate walk of shame. What am I supposed to do—walk through the city topless?”

  Other men ogling the beauty of all her parts? Especially the ones he’d just paid tribute to so lovingly with his hands and mouth? Sam hated the thought. “I’ve got a short commute. Down the hall and up the stairs.”

  “You live over the bakery?”

  “Yeah. So I hope my new neighbor doesn’t plan on throwing any all-night raves.”

  “No promises. But if I do, you’ll at least get an invitation.”

  Sam decided to come back for the dinner plates after their shower. He had high hopes it would be a long one. “Leave your clothes for now. I’ve got a robe you can wear.” After helping Mira off the island, he guided her up the narrow wooden stairs. He paused at his front door. “Remember, you told me to stake my claim. I just followed directions.” Either she’d go nuts for it, or think he was the cheesiest idiot ever born. In which case she’d probably make a nervous excuse and avoid him like the plague from here on out. Sam held his breath and pushed open the door.

  Candles flickered on every surface. On the low coffee table, he’d created a heart out of his white meringue cookies. In the middle, the cookies spelled out M + S. At least, he remembered doing it. Sam couldn’t take his eyes off Mira, naked next to him. How did he get so lucky?

  “I guess, to prevent any misunderstanding, you had to spell it out for me?” She shot him a sly, sassy look from beneath her lashes.

  He barked out a laugh. “Yep.”

  “Message received.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “When do I get to meet the sexiest man alive?” Helen asked, clattering a whisk against the glass mixing bowl at a steady rhythm.

  Mira lifted her head, grateful for the excuse to look away from her laptop. She still hadn’t unlocked all the quirks in the new inventory system. Two solid hours of staring at spreadsheet gridlines had a killer headache cued up and waiting to attack. Even her fabulous new high-backed stool didn’t cheer her any longer. “Um, I don’t know. Is this a trick question? Is your book group taking a field trip to a strip club?”

  “My book club?” Helen hooted. “I’d bet most of them don’t even watch their husbands strip anymore. The mere sight of man flesh might set them off into a hot flash cycle.” As usual, she wore an impeccably tailored St. John suit—today’s was burnt orange—and never splashed so much as a flake of flour on it.

  “Not you, though. I bet you’d sit in the front row waving a fistful of dollar bills.”

  “Why be stingy? For a good set of abs, I’d stuff a fiver down their G-string.”

  Mira thought, for about the millionth time, how she’d lucked out with Helen. Here it was, Sunday mo
rning, and she’d come in to create one last test batch of focaccia to kick off the preview week. Mira didn’t have to wrestle her spreadsheets in sullen silence, and now they were talking about rock-hard abs? They might not have any customers yet, or earned a single dollar, but already A Fine Romance had eclipsed every other job to be her best managerial experience. She sure hoped the store survived the possibly slow first few weeks to give her a taste of the real thing. Of course Mira wanted the store to succeed for Ivy’s sake, and because she believed in it. But at this point, she also really wanted it to take off because it was flat-out so darn much fun.

  “It’s never too early for Daphne and me to start planning Ivy’s bachelorette party. If you’d like to sample some high-class male, uh, entertainment, you’re welcome to help us.”

  Helen threw a towel over the top of the bowl and set it near the heat vent to rise. “Thank you for the lovely invitation. But I was asking about my new fellow employee, Hays. I hear he’s hotter than a stack of fresh pancakes.”

  Imagery she abso-freaking-lutely did not need. Pancakes made Mira think of syrup, and that led her thoughts straight to Sam. Sam’s tongue. Sam’s fingers smearing things on her for his tongue to lick off. Best to derail that train of thought before her eyes crossed in joy at reliving those moments.

  “I won’t bother to ask where you heard that little nugget. I’ve accepted the fact you know everyone and everything.” Mira switched over to email. A steady stream of responses to their grand opening party came in every day. It both soothed and excited her to add names to the RSVP list. Sort of the same reaction she got trying out a new hairdresser. Or trying to cool her tongue with too big a margarita gulp after accidentally chomping on a jalapeño. “Hays is undeniable eye candy. Also as charming as a gigolo and better at upselling than a used car salesman. He’s the total package.”

  Helen slid open the doors to the display case, fussing with things for the fifteenth time. She’d moved a cluster of grapes down a shelf, then switched the order of the camembert, Brie and smoked gouda. Mira figured the constant rearranging wouldn’t stop until the first customer asked for a chunk of cheese. “I hate that I keep missing him. Good thing he’s coming on full-time soon. But I can absolutely tell the difference he’s made in the store already.”