He tilted his head. "We have a problem, Janey."
"What?"
"You agreed to do everything I said regarding sex, and I agreed to do everything you said regarding cooking."
"Yes, so?"
"So, what happens when I tell you to stand still and let me fondle your nipples to my heart's content and you tell me to stop fondling them and crack some eggs?"
"I win is what happens," she said sternly.
He smiled broadly, with real amusement. "How about we both obey? And see where it takes us."
"That doesn't sound safe. This is cooking, after all."
"Are cheesecakes that hazardous?" He seemed impressed.
"Um…hand mixers could be, maybe possibly. And ovens really are."
"I think," he said, "We'll use a safe word."
"Safe word?"
"Today let's make it…avocado. You're allowed to question, nay, even deny my sexual orders if you say 'avocado.'"
"Avocado."
"But you can't abuse it. I want to be able to tease you, Janey," he said seriously. "I want to turn you on. By the time that cheesecake is done, I want you moaning and begging me to allow you underwear because your pussy is dripping onto my nice clean floor."
"Oh."
"Which means you do what I say. So let's test this."
"Um."
"I'm going to sit down on this chair and suckle your tits for a while. After that you can start telling me what to do."
Since she couldn't respond to his statement with anything sensible, she didn't even try. She just nodded.
She stood there while Nyall did what he'd said he would. His tongue and lips pulled at her nipples, first one at a time, switching back and forth between them and rolling with two fingers whichever one he'd abandoned. "Pointy," he murmured. Then he coddled her breasts together and, while she watched in stunned amazement, slipped both nipples into his mouth at once and sucked on them together. She didn't even know something like that could be done. That made her all but run in place. When he finally released her breasts, they were glistening, the nipples red and jutting forward, and Janey was twisting and trembling from head to foot.
"Now," he said huskily. "What do I do?"
Take my virginity. This instant.
"Um…you cream the cheese with the sugar."
"How do I do that?" He stood up and adjusted himself in his jeans.
"Uh…" She had to get a grip. However overstimulated her body was, she trusted that Nyall knew what he was doing. If he thought she needed more time and for things to move slowly, it was probably true.
But she seriously considered jumping on him anyway.
"You're looking at me funny," he said. "Do I have something on my nose?"
"You are a maddening man," Janey said. "I can't think of anything except sex at the moment."
"Now you're getting the idea. So…what do I use?"
She took a deep breath. "First you get a big mixing bowl. Then you take these packages of cream cheese and open them. Use a measuring cup to…"
Twenty minutes later, Nyall turned off the hand mixer and tipped the bowl so she could see its contents. He looked so proud of himself Janey had to smile. He dipped his finger in the golden mixture and lifted it to his mouth to take a taste.
She stopped him. "No. There's raw egg in that. If it were straight from the farm, I'd maybe say go ahead, but this was just from the supermarket down the street."
He paused, struck. "I forgot. How did you pay for all those groceries today?"
"With my credit card," she said, testing the texture of the mixture with a wooden spoon. "It's okay. I'm eating this stuff too and besides, treating you is the least I can do given what you're doing for—"
She was spun around so fast she dropped the spoon on the floor. "Janey," he said cuttingly. "Don't say it."
Her eyes widened. "What? I was just going to say that if you're being nice enough to give up your vacation for me I should pay for—"
He took each of her hands in his and held them pinned behind her on the countertop. "I'm paying for our food. Having you here is not a favor to you. You're here because I want to fuck you."
"That's not true," she said hotly. "You're helping me."
"God help me, I'm trying to. But I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't want in your pants."
"Oh, yeah. Well, I guess, but even so—"
"No. We negotiated our exchange. You teach me to cook, I teach you to fuck. That's it. No paying for crap. You don't owe me anything."
His intensity was rather astonishing. "Why is it such a big deal?"
His expression said he couldn't believe she could ask that. "I am not a gigolo."
"A gigolo?" An involuntary laugh burst from her.
"You didn't hire me. We don't have a business relationship."
"But—but that's not exactly true, is it? You give your mistresses gifts. That's basically a business relationship. Think of the groceries as a gift."
"You. Are. Not. A. Mistress. Did you even read the fucking ground rules? Don't assume anything about us from the women I bed. Go only by the rules. Nothing was said about owing each other anything."
Janey's mouth opened with dawning awareness. "This has to do with your wife, doesn't it?"
His chin jerked back. "What?"
"Amy told me about her." Janey nodded. "She said your wife accused you of being selfish."
"Amy," he muttered. "You are so toast."
"Don't blame Amy. She was helping me. But now I think I've figured something out. Your wife—"
"Ex-wife."
"Your ex-wife when she was your wife made you feel like you weren't generous enough. So now you have to prove you are. So you won't take gifts from people, you just give them."
He stared at her open-mouthed, then burst into laughter. "That's a new one. Sorry, sweetheart, I like getting gifts. Good try, though. Just—do me a favor and get me socks or something. Not groceries. All right?"
"She didn't scar you?" Janey said.
"If Kimberly did anything, it was teach me to establish clearly the terms of every future relationship. Which if you recall I did with you."
"Oh."
"And which you're conveniently forgetting. So maybe I should remind you why we're both here."
She knew what that meant. Her body shivered just at the expectation of what he was going to do.
"Yeah," he drawled. "That's what I'll do. A reminder is definitely in order. Take off that apron." He let go of her hands.
Janey took off the apron.
"That was very, very good," he said. "You didn't even hesitate. Now tell me, do you like games, Janey?"
"Games? You mean like video games?"
"Sure, and board games, RPGs, dice, marbles, Red Rover, whatever."
"Sometimes."
"That's great. We're going to play a game with very simple rules. You're going to give me my instructions for making this cheesecake. Each step in detail, all the way to the end. And if you get to the end and don't skip any steps, you get a reward."
"That sounds easy," she said doubtfully. "Why do I have the feeling there's a catch?"
"Because you're a smart girl." He grinned and then he went down on his knees in front of her.
"Uh, Nyall? Why are you…"
"Ssh. I want you to close your eyes. Keep them closed while we're playing. Now stand there just like that and start telling me what to do. Don't stop for anything. Remember, when you've told me everything, there's a reward waiting for you."
With her eyes closed, she tried to stare through her eyelids. "Why are you holding my hips like that? Nyall, you're not going to —"
"Widen your stance. More. I want your legs wide open. Are your eyes closed? Okay, now…begin."
With her eyes scrunched up, Janey focused on her senses other than vision. She felt a tickle on the hairs curling around her pussy and shuddered.
"What did you just do?" she said.
"I just touched you a little. Don't worry about i
t. Concentrate on your part. I'll concentrate on mine."
"What's your part?" she squeaked.
"Listening to your instructions."
Janey's forehead wrinkled. She didn't trust his innocent tone one bit.
"Ah. Um, so the next thing to do is preheat the oven." She paused, waiting for something. Nothing happened. Relief made her expel her breath. "You need to turn the oven on by setting it to bake at 450 degrees Fahrenheit. Oh, also make sure the top rack is in the middle of the—"
She broke off as she felt something.
"What was that?" she said quickly.
"Janey." The amusement was pretty obvious in his voice. "The rules are easy. Just keep talking. Remember, if you miss a step the cheesecake could be ruined. So do your job and no. More. Questions."
"In the middle of the oven," she finished. "And, uh, so after that you have to prepare the pan. The pan is round and has a catch with a lever on the side and it's on the counter. Make sure the catch is engaged so the bottom won't fall out. Next to the pan is-ah!"
She broke off at the sudden tingle of pleasure between her legs. Cupping her hands over her eyes to keep them from looking, she struggled to identify it. He'd touched her, she realized belatedly, between the lips of her cleft.
"Nyall," she whispered, "if you do stuff like that I won't be able to concentrate."
"That's the game," he said softly. "Try."
"There's a box of cinnamon graham crackers," she said. "Put all the graham crackers into the gallon plastic bag on—" Janey drew in a breath. Something was sliding back and forth over her clit. It was long and blunt. The sensation was so delicious she gasped.
Waiting for it to stop proved futile. The caress kept happening. Janey realized she was going to have to go on while her clit was being stroked with something hard—his finger, she was almost positive.
"On the counter on the island," she choked out. "Seal up the bag and put it on the counter and…and take the rolling pin and roll it back and forth over the bag using all your weight to press it down until…Nyall…"
"I'm getting this," he said, even as the stroking continued. "You're being very thorough. That's good thinking, since I'm just a beginner."
"Until everything is crushed."
The rhythm changed and now her clit was being circled and the folds around it delicately massaged. That did it; Janey needed a break. Her palms were still blindfolding her eyes because otherwise she'd have to open them and watch what he was doing to her. Her body was responding not just to how he was touching her but to what she knew, or thought, was coming.
Suddenly the touch was withdrawn and Janey sighed in relief and disappointment. Only to again suck in her breath when she felt cool air wash across her intimate folds and realized he'd parted them with his fingers. She waited nervously.
Nothing more happened. Quivering and flushed, she went on.
"When the graham crackers are down to tiny little crumbs, pour them into the springform pan. Sprinkle on a couple of tablespoonfuls of sugar. Take the stick of butter and cut it off at the two tablespoon mark. Put the two tablespoons in the saucepan on the stove. Turn the heat to—oh, God."
Janey's pussy lips were still being held open, but now something slithered between them. It stroked slickly down the middle of her sex. A burst of sweetness traveled from her pussy down her thighs and along the nerve endings in her back. And another. And another…
"Low," her voice croaked out. "Watch it very…carefully because you don't want it to burn while it…melts…oh, help, I can't…"
Not being able to see what was happening, Janey could only use her imagination and she had a pretty good imagination. Her brain steered completely off its culinary course. In her mind's eye, she could see his head at the level of her hips, the backs of his hands resting on her thighs as his fingers held her sex open and between them…between them…
There was a slurping sound and then his voice came huskily. "What do I do after the butter's melted, Janey?"
She shook her head because she couldn't go on. Not when that insidious curling pressure glided into her folds and stole her ability to formulate thoughts. Over and over, in an easy rhythm, came the warm, wonderful slinking sensation in her pussy, like something was giving it a playful bath…
But then it stopped. Air chilled her wet flesh and she heard as well as felt the draft. Blowing. He was blowing on her.
"You need to talk in order to get your reward, Janey," he reminded her.
She knew she was squirming. "You pour it over the graham cracker crumbs," she whispered. "And then mix the butter and the crumbs and sugar with a fork until all the, ah, all the crumbs are moistened, ahhhh."
She heard the rumble of his muffled laughter but it didn't penetrate far, since her world was pretty much down to what was happening between her legs.
He was licking her. He had to be. And just knowing it and feeling it and not being able to see it made her wild.
The touch eased away and she felt his soft kisses on her thigh. "Don't you want your reward?" he asked.
Janey decided she needed her reward. Like in the elevator, excitement brought enough sharpness to her mind that she was able to achieve the bare minimum of focus necessary.
"Pat down…" Since there was currently no contact at her most vulnerable spot, just little nibbles on the skin of her hip, she rushed on hurriedly. "Okay, so pat down the crumbs until they're tight in the pan. Check that the oven has preheated. Pour the bowl of cream cheese mix into the pan over the crumbs. Use the rubber spatula to get all of it. Fill it no higher than one inch from the top. Um…"
"You're doing great," he said and darted his tongue into her navel.
"Put it in the oven on the top rack. Set the timer to twenty minutes. Um…after the timer goes off, turn the oven down to 275. Set the timer for another two hours. Whatever you do, don't open the oven door. When those two hours are done, turn off the oven and leave the cheesecake in there for another hour. Then it's done. And I'm done."
She flushed, knowing her eagerness was showing through.
"You did great. I think I got all of that. Just one question. Where's the sugar and how do I measure it into tablespoonfulls? Don't open your eyes yet," he added.
"Oh!" Her loins were so tight she couldn't keep her feet still. "It's, ah, I think I put it on the table. It's in a glass canister marked sugar. The measuring spoons are somewhere on the counter. The tablespoon measure is the largest but one and it says one capital tee on it. Just scoop that into the sugar and level it off with the back of a straight knife."
"That was awesome, Janey. Now you get your reward. You can open your eyes."
Her hands fell away from her face and she stared down at him. He was still down there in front of her, his head tilted and his eyes gazing up at her face, their brown irises dark and smoky.
"God, you're sweet," he said. ""Ready?"
She nodded. "Please," she said. "It hurts."
"I know, baby." He slid his hand between her legs and trailed one finger through her pussy until it reached her entrance. Slowly, watching her face all the while, he eased one finger inside her, then another. And then, while she stood there trying not to fall due to the ecstasy of being filled where she so desperately needed it, a third finger squeezed inside.
"Nyall."
"You're fuller than you've ever been," he murmured. "Does it feel good?"
She didn't know what to do or say.
"We're not done with our game yet," he said tenderly. "This is just the first level. For your reward, I'm going to lick your pussy with my fingers inside you like this. Then we'll move onto the next level. There's an even better reward after that. All right?"
First level?
Next level?
"Help," she said. "I don't know what to do."
"Just stand there quietly while I suck on your clit. You taste fantastic, Janey."
While she watched, dazed and overheated and unbearably aroused, he stuck his face between her thighs and did exactly
what he'd promised. While his tongue and mouth tugged repeatedly on her budding flesh, his fingers twisted deep inside her.
Janey didn't know how she stood it. How she stood upright. Knees shaking but somehow remaining vertical while her clit found a home between his tongue and palate and within her passage, his wonderful fingers turned….
All she knew was that when he eased away and rose to his feet, letting go of her completely, she felt horribly empty at the huge loss. Her knees almost gave out. He caught her, kissed her mouth and backed her up against the counter.
"Did you taste yourself?" he asked when he finally released her mouth, the mild words belied by his urgent tone. She could feel his cock stabbing into her abdomen through his jeans.
"Y-yes."
"I know you wanted to come," he said. "You will, real soon. If you do a good job on this next level."
She wriggled her arms around him and tried to press even closer to him. "I'm so turned on," she said wretchedly. "I don't think I can play anymore."
"Are you going to use your safe word?" he panted, rotating his hips against her.
"Safe word?" she said dumbly. "I can't remember the word."
"You can just say 'safe word.'"
"Oh, God. If I do, what happens?'
"Whatever you want," he promised. "But it won't be as nice as if you keep playing. This is supposed to be fun, Janey. If it helps, I'm hurting twice as much as you are. This isn't as easy as it looks. You're fucking beautiful."
She shuddered. "I want you inside me again."
"You'll get it. You took three fingers. You're still killer tight, but you're almost ready to take my cock."
"Okay," she said. "I'll play."
"Great." He cupped her breasts, squeezed gently. "What you have to do is easy, baby. Just sit on the table. I'm going to clear a space for you. Sit there and watch me while I follow your instructions. Make sure I'm not missing any steps."
"That's all?'
"Basically. While you're sitting, though, play with your tits. Use your fingers to fondle your nipples. You do that without stopping and then you'll get your reward."
Janey was suspicious this time so she made sure to specify. "And that would be an orgasm?"
"Mm, yes."
She wriggled a little. "Okay."
He tilted up her chin, kissed her mouth, withdrew, and smiled at her affectionately.
Heat Exchange (The Alpha Billionaire's Virgin Book 1) Page 9
