Making Whoopie

by Erin Nicholas

  And he was afraid he was falling in love with her.

  He nudged her hand out of the way, rolled the condom on, and said, “Get that skirt out of my way.”

  She hiked it up, lifting her butt off his thighs to get it out from underneath her. With the skirt bunched at her waist, he brought her forward. He held her just above his cock.

  “You ready for me, wife?” he asked, the word coming out naturally and making a surge of possessiveness rip through him.

  “I am,” she said, her voice soft. “So ready.”

  He brought her down, sinking down. They both groaned. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she took him. It was a tight fit—a holy-shit-nothing-has-ever-felt-this-good tight fit—and he paused, just breathing for a moment.

  Then Jocelyn started moving.

  He let her set the pace, watching her move up and down on him, her knees on the leather seat, her hands gripping his tux jacket, her eyes on the lights and traffic and buildings outside the car.

  Pleasure and other emotions—affection, happiness, more that he wasn’t quite willing to name—built as she moved, her pace picking up naturally.

  Finally he couldn’t hold back. He moved a hand between them, finding her clit with his thumb, rubbing and circling. She gasped and then moaned. “Yes, there.”

  “I’ve got you, love,” he said, his voice gruff. “Whatever you need.”

  “Faster.” She took a breath and tipped her head back, her hair spilling down her back. “Harder.”

  He circled her clit faster and leaned in, taking a nipple in his mouth, as he surged up into her. Faster and harder he could definitely do.

  It only took a few more strokes to send her flying, and he was right behind her, thrusting into her, chasing that completion that had never been as good as it was with her.

  “Fuck! Yes, Josie! Yes!”

  Her body gripped him, and he emptied himself, a groan erupting that seemed to come from his bones.

  She slumped against him, her arms around his neck. She rested her chin on her arm on top of his shoulder as she caught her breath, and Grant realized she was looking at the lights as she recovered.

  He chuckled and ran a hand up and down her back. “And that’s limo sex.”

  She sighed. “Wow, I really liked it.”

  “Me too.”

  She pulled back and looked down at him. “Thanks.”

  He lifted a brow. “Thanks? Seriously? This is the best limo ride I’ve ever had.”

  Something flickered in her eyes.

  “What?” he asked when she didn’t reply.

  “I was trying not to say that I hope it’s the best limo ride you ever have. Ever.”

  And this was where things got complicated. Because it was very likely this was the best limo ride he’d ever had, and it was almost over, and he didn’t want it to end. Or he at least wanted to know he could do this all again with her—not just the sex either, but the lights and the laughter and the teasing and getting to know her.

  For a guy who didn’t want to get involved and have a woman too dependent on him—emotionally or otherwise—that all sounded, well, pretty involved.

  “It honestly makes me dread riding in a limo with any of the guys at any point in the near future,” he said, trying to lighten the tone.

  “Why?” But she was almost smiling.

  “Because if I replay all of this and Dax is sitting across from me, he’ll notice me daydreaming and give me all kinds of shit.”

  Her smile grew, and Grant felt the band around his chest loosen slightly. “You don’t seem like the daydreaming type.”

  “I’m not.”

  “But you might daydream about me in a limo someday?” she asked.

  God, she was so fucking cute. And sweet. And he would absolutely daydream about her. Dammit.

  “I think the odds are actually quite good,” he admitted.

  She grinned. “I’ll take that.” Then she slid off his lap, and they both worked to get cleaned and straightened up, at least enough to walk through the hotel lobby to the elevators.

  Grant was glad that she was placated by the idea of him just remembering their limo ride together fondly. But he should have left it at that. He should have probably even withdrawn a little now that he saw her getting attached. He should definitely have banged her against the bathroom counter or something, reminding them both that they were fuck buddies with health insurance benefits.

  Instead, he cuddled her. All night long. His arm over her, her butt tucked against his groin, her hair spilling all over the pillow, his nose buried in her neck. And after she’d fallen asleep, he realized she’d worn her wedding ring to bed.

  And so had he.

  Grant’s seminar wasn’t boring.

  Josie was actually surprised by that. It was a seminar, with a PowerPoint presentation given in a hotel conference room, and it was about managing finances and budgets and investments.

  It should have been boring.

  But she was fascinated.

  It didn’t hurt that he looked hot. He was in a dress shirt and pants with a jacket, but no tie. And while the suits always did something to her, it wasn’t that or that he was freshly shaven—after scraping her inner thighs with his morning stubble as he “kissed” her awake that morning—or how he’d styled his hair or any of that. It was his confidence, his smile, and honestly, how damned excited he was to be talking about this stuff.

  He’d said she looked beautiful when she was serving the bakery customers and especially when they chose her cakes out of the display case. Now she understood. Watching Grant in his element, happy and excited and doing something he was clearly passionate about, and very good at, was a turn-on. Plain and simple. He looked hot talking about money.

  Not because she cared about money—she so didn’t—but because he did. And more, he cared about these people. She’d had no idea what these seminars were about. She never would have believed that someone could make money personal like this and that they might care about the people sitting in the straight-backed hotel conference room chairs. But clearly, Grant did. He was part educator, part life coach, part cheerleader up there. He was teaching them about their finances, but he was also preaching that they not only should take control of their money but that they could. They had that power. They didn’t need anyone taking care of them. If they were in control of their money, they were in control of their life. And he was going to help them get there.

  She had to know more about him now. Why was he so passionate about this? There was a story there, and she couldn’t wait to hear it. He was fascinating.

  He was gruff and serious and protective and bossy, but he was also sweet and, dammit, romantic and passionate and so, so sexy.

  Josie sighed and sat back in her chair, watching him up on the raised platform at the front of the room with the headset microphone, pacing in front of the screen that displayed his PowerPoint slides.

  He was a grumpy, suit-wearing, money guy from the big city. Who, it turned out, did like her cupcakes, but could show amazing restraint around them.

  And yes, she was never going to get over him.

  They took an hour-long lunch break where everyone was on their own for finding food in the various restaurants in the area. Grant bought Josie a salad in the hotel dining room and they chatted as they ate.

  “So how did this all happen?” she asked, waving her fork in the general direction of the conference room.

  “The seminars?” he asked.

  “Yes. Your passion for helping women become financially independent.”

  “My sister and grandma,” he said. He sipped his iced tea then met her gaze. “My grandma was widowed at age forty-eight. Really young. She’d never even balanced the checkbook when my grandpa died of a heart attack in the backyard while mowing the lawn.”

  Josie felt her eyebrows rise. “Wow.”

  He nodded. “She didn’t know where their life insurance policies were, where the key to the safe deposit box was—noth
ing. She was completely scared. So she quickly started another relationship. She was afraid of being alone and thought she needed someone to take care of her. Ten years later, he stole a bunch of her money and left her for a much younger woman. Very cliché.”

  Josie frowned. “Oh my God.”

  He nodded. “I watched her struggle after that, not just financially but also with her self-esteem. She felt stupid and used. She dated on and off but had a hard time trusting anyone, obviously. Finally, when I was old enough, I decided to teach her everything she needed to know about managing her money and her finances. I wanted her to be totally secure in that and how to take care of herself. I taught her everything from interest rates to taxes to investments. We’ve played the stock market together for about ten years now.” He smiled. “Once she felt confident and secure financially, she was able to find a guy she really liked who she could get close to—because she didn’t have to worry about him scamming her. Because she knew everything about her accounts and her money and could make all of those decisions completely on her own.” He shrugged. “So they signed a prenup and got married about three years ago.”

  Josie smiled at that. “Wow. That’s pretty amazing.”

  He smiled.

  “What about your sister?”

  Josie watched his eyes harden with that question. “My sister was in a flat-out abusive relationship,” he said. “Corey wasn’t physically abusive, but he was emotionally and financially abusive. She never had money of her own. He didn’t want her to work, insisting that it was his place to take care of her. But he also didn’t give her money to spend. She had to tell him exactly what she was getting at the grocery store, how much gas she was putting in the car, when she needed new clothes. And then he got to decide what she bought.”

  Grant’s voice had gone cold, and he was staring at the tablecloth instead of looking at Josie. “He didn’t ‘let’ her have things like makeup or perfume. He said that it would just lead to other men finding her attractive. He didn’t let her buy ice cream or cookies because he didn’t want her to get fat.”

  Grant’s hand was fisted on top of the table now, and Josie could feel the waves of rage coming off him.

  “And he didn’t ‘let’ her buy birth control. He said she should want to get pregnant with his babies and that birth control was too expensive anyway.” Grant’s jaw tightened. “When she did end up pregnant was when she finally realized she had to leave him. She needed prenatal vitamins and he said no. Said they were too expensive, and she just needed to take better care of herself and the baby. She realized that he would deny their child all kinds of things—toys and treats—but she was also scared he’d skimp on things like car seats and other safety items. So she showed up at my house one night and told me everything and asked if she could stay with me.”

  “And, of course, you let her,” Josie said. This man was the most protective she’d ever met. Now she had a very clear window into why.

  His eyes met hers. “I did. And I’ll admit, I was really fucking happy when her piece-of-shit husband came over to demand she come home with him. I’m not a violent guy but breaking his nose felt really damned good.”

  Josie nodded. “I’m glad you did that. I want to break his nose, even now.”

  Grant took a deep breath.

  “Please tell me she’s fine. Totally independent and in charge of her life. And that she and their child don’t have to see him?” Josie said.

  Grant blew out his breath. “She miscarried at four months,” he said. “So the child isn’t an issue.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It’s for the best, really. But yes, she’s totally independent now. Fully in charge of her own life. And no, she doesn’t ever see him. I’m very fortunate to know one of the best, take-no-shit lawyers Chicago has to offer.”

  She smiled. “Cam?”

  “Cam,” Grant said with a nod.

  “Awesome.”

  Grant still looked incredibly tense. She hated that she’d brought this all up. But she really liked knowing these intimate details about his background.

  She reached out and covered his hand with hers on the tabletop. She didn’t know if he wanted comforting, or if he’d find her comforting, but she couldn’t not touch him.

  To her relief, and pleasure, he turned his hand over and linked his fingers with hers.

  “Thanks for telling me.”

  He gave her a single nod.

  “So you do all of this in their honor,” she said, resting her chin on her other hand. “That’s pretty great. Do they know?”

  “They do. My grandmother has come to a couple of my seminars.”

  “That’s so great. She must be really proud of you.”

  “I think so. I’m proud of her. She changed her whole life. Her whole outlook on life.”

  “And now you’re helping other women do that.” She really liked him. She loved being naked with him. She loved his romantic, surprisingly sweet moments, she liked the idea that she was a bit of a surprise to him as well. She loved his protective side. But she also just liked him. He was a good guy.

  “I’m trying to teach other women a few things so they can do that,” he said. “They still have to do the work.”

  “I bet you get emails and letters all the time,” she said. “I bet you have a huge fan club.”

  He gave her a grin that made her lower stomach clench. “I do, actually. It’s why bringing a wife along as an assistant is a good idea.”

  She felt her stomach swoop as it always did when he used the W-word. “Seriously,” she said, smiling. “I completely understand why they want to be all over you.”

  He gave her a slow, wicked grin. “Oh yeah?”

  “Even if I didn’t know how good you are with your tongue and fingers,” she said. “You’re a unicorn.”

  He chuckled. “A what?”

  “A unicorn. You’re this incredibly hot guy who’s young, rich, successful, could have any woman, the world is your oyster. But you’re a huge champion for women. You truly believe that women can and should be independent and not rely on men. You spend your weekends telling roomfuls of women how smart and savvy they are and to trust and have faith in themselves and helping them take charge. And you’re motivated by love for your grandmother and sister, for heaven’s sake.” She sighed. “Yeah, I would be shocked if women weren’t throwing themselves at you.”

  His fingers tightened on hers and he leaned in. “Well, I’m not above reminding my wife that there are a couple of things she does need me for.”

  Jocelyn loved when he got dirty and playful. “Oh?”

  “Like reaching that one particular spot inside her pussy that makes her eyes cross and her toes curl.”

  His voice was low and husky, for her only, and that spot tingled at the reminder. It was true that no one, including herself, had ever gotten to that spot before Grant. She swallowed. “I’ll give you that.”

  “And you can’t suck on your own nipples, can you, Jocelyn?” he said, his eyes dark.

  She cleared her throat. “No, no I can’t.”

  He looked smug. “Good. I just don’t want you leaving my seminar thinking you don’t need me at all.”

  She grinned at him. “Well, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I haven’t really been listening to the specifics.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “No?”

  “I’ve been too distracted.”

  “By?”

  “Your ass. Your hands. Your mouth. Your package.”

  Now he was the one who had to clear his throat. “Is that right?”

  She shrugged. “I’m wanton now.”

  He snorted softly. “Really. And that’s my fault?” But he looked cocky. As if he knew that it was absolutely his fault and he was very proud of it.

  “Completely.” She really loved flirting with him. A few weeks ago, she never would have believed that Grant Lorre was the flirting type, but he not only brought it out in her, he seemed to genuinel
y enjoy it too. “Before you came along I was a sweet, small-town baker who thought cake batter and frosting were these innocent, fun things that I enjoyed baking into innocent, fun shapes like ladybugs and rainbows. Now I look at a cupcake, and my panties get wet and my nipples get hard, and all I can think about is how much I want to smear frosting all over your body and then lick it off, slowly.”

  He leaned in. “I’m going to be doing the afternoon session with a hard-on now. Mrs. Lorre.”

  Her stomach swooped. “You better not. I know I’m not the only one in that room checking you out. They’ll totally notice.”

  “Then my assistant better get the hotel staff to bring a podium in there.”

  She giggled. “I’m on it.”

  And Grant did, indeed, do most of the afternoon’s presentation from behind that podium.

  Jocelyn knew that he could see her very smug expression even from the back row.

  15

  I quit.

  Grant grinned at the text from Piper and simply responded with, Again?

  She’d sent back a middle finger emoji.

  He chuckled and texted back, What did Ollie do? He knew it had to do with Ollie. Piper told Grant she was quitting at least once a week. He never believed her, of course, but that was the signal that Ollie had pushed his luck with her.

  She answered, He talked Whitney into buying a circus tent for the snack cake baking contest.

  Grant snorted out loud at that. Ollie was turning the thing into an actual circus? Of course he was. And you said?

  I asked if he wanted pony rides and a petting zoo too. Do you want to guess what his answer was?

  Grant didn’t need to guess. No way would Whitney go for that. But Grant felt a little niggle of dread. Would she?

  Lord, was Ollie turning Whitney into an ally? That would never do. Dax and Ollie were enough. It had been a bit of a relief when Dax had stepped down from Hot Cakes to go do his own thing. Not that he didn’t get Ollie going on crazy ideas, but at least he wasn’t there all day, every day. And thanks to Jane, he wouldn’t be hopping on planes at the last minute to take wild trips or getting thrown into jail in Italy. Or had that been in France? Grant couldn’t even remember.