by Maggie Ryan
Craig immediately set her at ease. "Baby, as much as I'd love to stay here and cuddle you, I came to show you some of my world." She looked at him, her face showing her confusion. He chuckled and explained. "We've established that you are an attorney, but, having spoken to your mother, I discovered we have something important in common. You love to cook and, Gracie, I'm a chef." She nodded but still didn't understand how that fact brought him to her room in the middle of the night. "I've arranged for a surprise not only for you, but if you help me, everyone can benefit. Are you game?"
She found herself nodding. "Great, I'll let you get changed. As much as I'd rather you keep those jammies on, I can't promise that everyone in the hotel is asleep." She blushed again, bending over to grab the clothes she had worn earlier. Craig almost groaned, seeing her bent over, the pajama shorts stretching and clinging over the rounded globes of her bottom. As she went into the bathroom to change, he found himself picturing her over his lap, lifting her hips so he could slowly draw the cute shorts down. He wondered what sort of panties she might be wearing or if the thin shorts were the only thing hiding her bottom from view. He had to shake his head and pace a bit in order to get himself back under control, the soft scent of her perfume in the room only feeding his libido.
They were back down to the lobby level and walking towards the dining room when he finally told her his plan: "You were right on the money this morning when you made your suggestion," he said.
She just shook her head, knowing he'd tell her in his own way what she was doing walking into a dark dining room instead of sleeping in her bed at close to three in the morning. "Are you sure we're not going to get in trouble?" she asked, as he pushed through the door that led into the kitchen.
"It's okay, I've already gotten permission from the manager and the chef," he assured her. "All it took was a promise we'd make enough for the entire hotel and leave your recipe for them."
"I have no idea what you are talking about," she said as he flipped on the lights, illuminating the small commercial kitchen.
"Cinnamon rolls," he said as if the answer should have been obvious.
"Cinnamon rolls?"
"Yes. Remember, this morning you said they used too much cinnamon and that they would be better with orange zest. I completely agree and since I've made rolls for both my restaurant and catering company, I figured between the two of us, we can make the best damn rolls in Texas," he explained, smiling the entire time as he began to gather the ingredients and utensils.
Barbara finally smiled and understood. Though it was far too early, she suddenly was having fun. Within an hour, the dough was made and left to rise. This was only the first step, and it would be a while before they could continue. While she washed her hands in the huge sink, she turned to him.
"I understand this is a process that takes quite a bit of time," she said. "However, since we've agreed to meet at nine and not at six, can you please explain to me why in the world we had to start before the crack of dawn?"
Craig smiled and handed her a towel. "Well, even though I know you have to be really tired, it was one of the conditions the chef gave me. If he is to serve these rolls tomorrow morning, well, they need to be ready to come out of the oven and be iced by six. We're going to be cutting it close as it is."
Barbara groaned and then yawned. "Hey, baby," he said, "you don't have to stay. I'll take you back to your room, tuck you in, and finish this up myself."
"No … no," she said, shaking her head, her insides fluttering when she realized he had said 'tuck you in'. "In for a penny, in for a pound. However, I will let you hold me and wake me in an hour or so when the first rise is done, okay?"
His answer was a huge grin, and he took her hand, leading her back out into the dining room. "Wait here," he said as he dropped her hand and went through the doors into the lobby proper. She shook her head when he returned carrying one of the armchairs from the lobby area. "Hey, I love holding you but I don't want to do it sitting on one of those hard chairs," he said, nodding towards the standard metal-and-plastic cushioned chairs that decorated the dining rooms of thousands of hotels. "If I take you back to your room, I'm afraid I wouldn't have the heart to wake you up again." He set the alarm on his watch, pulled one of the dining chairs over to use as an ottoman, sat down in the armchair, and patted his lap. She hesitated, but he took her hand and pulled her down. She snuggled into him, her head against his shoulder as he gently ran his hand down her back. She barely even noticed when one hand dropped to pat against her bottom, but simply yawned again and snuggled closer. Craig laid his head back, closing his eyes and smiling. They might not be sharing a bed, but he couldn't have been happier having this gorgeous, talented, and precious woman on his lap, her head tucked beneath his chin, her soft, even breathing telling him that she had fallen asleep in his arms.
Neither complained when the alarm woke them. He helped her off his lap and gave her a kiss when he stood. She stretched and asked if she had squashed him. He shook his head, gave her a quick pop on her bottom, and then grinned. She blushed but smiled and followed him back into the kitchen. The dough had risen beautifully, and they each separated the contents of their huge bowls into sections. As she lined and then buttered the large commercial cooking sheets, he set out the ingredients for the filling. The room was soon fragrant with the smell of cinnamon and orange, the two cooks smiling across the island at each other, both admitting that the delicious smells were making them hungry. Once they had the filling made, they sprinkled each section of rolled-out dough with the mixture and then sprinkled two trays with chopped walnuts, two with chopped pecans and left one tray nut-free. They rolled up each section, and as Craig cut each log into individual slices, she placed them on the trays. Sliding the trays into a large rack, they left a note for the chef, telling him what the trays contained and at what time they would be back to finish the tray they had made for their own group. They quickly whipped up a huge vat of icing, sprinkling in additional zest to assure a bright, fresh flavor with every bite. The chef could rewhip small batches of the icing to frost the rolls as needed. Satisfied that they had done all they had promised, including Barbara's writing out the recipe, they prepared to leave. Craig went into the walk-in refrigerator and returned with bread layered with roast beef and cheese, which he quickly melted under the salamander broiler. Once the cheese was completely melted, he pulled it out, assembled the sandwich, and cut it into half and then halved hers again. She watched, perched on a tall stool as he worked. He slid the sandwich in front of her along with a glass of milk. Her eyebrow rose at the milk and he smiled, sliding a napkin with one of his chocolate chip cookies next to her glass.
"Thank you, this looks delicious," she said as she picked up the sandwich quarter. It was delicious, the meat warm and the cheese stringy and gooey. She wasn't even finished with her first quarter when she realized his sandwich was gone. "Take mine," she insisted. When he hesitated, she giggled. "I'll share my sandwich but if you so much as breathe on my cookie, I can't be held responsible." He laughed and took the offering, finishing it in two bites. Barbara broke her cookie in half and dunked the first into her glass. She moaned as she ate it, finishing the entire cookie, not even looking like she was considering sharing. Craig cleaned up the bar quickly and then helped her from her stool.
They were soon standing outside her door again. She looked up to him. "Thank you, that was a lot of fun."
"You're welcome. I loved cooking with you," he said, smiling down at her and tucking a section of auburn hair behind her ear.
"Would you hold me?" she asked softly, and he immediately pulled her into his arms. She smiled against him and then pushed her hands against his chest. "I mean, will you hold me afterwards?"
He didn't smile or act as if he had no idea what she meant. He put a finger under her chin, lifting her eyes to his. "Before, during, and after, every time," he said, and though she blushed, she nodded. He bent, kissed her on her forehead, and then turned her to the door. "Get some s
leep. I'll come get you around 8:30 so we can ice our rolls."
"Yes, Sir," she said softly. When her door had clicked shut and he heard her flip the bolt, he finally did smile and didn't stop until he was in bed, his alarm set again and his head on the pillow.
Chapter 8
The cinnamon rolls were a huge success. The moment Craig and Barbara entered the kitchen, the chef was profusely praising the rolls and the entire room smelled heavenly. Barbara protested when Craig tried to give her all the credit but was pleased that the chef and the hotel guests seemed to love them. Craig got their sheet of rolls from the rack and slid them into the oven while Barbara rewhipped the frosting. As the rolls baked, they enjoyed a cup of coffee and chatted with some of the kitchen staff. When the rolls were done, they finished them off with a thick, gooey layer of the icing and arranged them on a tray. Craig carried them into the dining room, placing the tray on the table they had all shared the previous morning. Compliments were effusive as their group devoured the entire tray, Nancy getting her butt swatted when she attempted to grab the last roll out of Jason's hand.
"Woman, after last night my body needs every calorie it can get," Jason said as he bit into the roll and rolled his eyes in what looked suspiciously like orgasmic pleasure.
Nancy rubbed her rear but was smiling as the memory of their lovemaking the night before replayed in her mind. It had been every bit as wonderful as she had imagined. At one point she had needed to bury her face in her pillow to keep her own cries to a minimum, and at another, she had distinctly heard cries coming from the room next door. Even with high quality gags, not every sound was muffled enough to be totally inaudible. Jason allowed her the last bite of the roll and then kissed her soundly. As the men went to help Craig empty the refrigerator and pack the items to haul down to the worksite where they'd lunch by the lake again, Nancy walked over to where the girls were enjoying their coffee.
"Haven Note," Nancy began, and Elizabeth instantly looked up in interest. "All linens are to be of the highest thread count possible, as the sheets in this place are very rough against my delicate skin."
Elizabeth shook her head and grinned. "What's the matter, got some 'sheet burn' on your butt?"
"Nope, on my nipples," Nancy quipped, unabashedly. Barbara almost spit out her coffee, causing her to choke and Ariel to pound her on her back.
Once she was sure her sister wasn't going to choke to death, Ariel turned to Elizabeth. "Also, the pillows … I mean, could these pillows be any flatter? It takes two to even begin to be comfortable."
Elizabeth nodded and then grinned, "I agree. Even four barely was enough in Logan's opinion. I'd better start an official Haven Notebook before I forget all these suggestions. She turned to Barbara. "Anything you think of, please don't hesitate to mention, okay? We can use all the help we can get."
Smiling and feeling ever more part of the group, Barbara nodded. "I will but the only suggestion I have so far is to tell my oaf of a brother that he shouldn't hog all the pillows." She wondered for a moment at the look that passed between the other three and when they burst out into laughter she blushed hotly.
Ariel saw the embarrassed look in her sister's eyes and reached out to take her hand. "We aren't laughing at you, Barbara," Ariel whispered, and Elizabeth and Nancy immediately realized their laughter had caused her to feel uncomfortable.
"Logan did give me a pillow, but, well, it took all four to be high enough for me to bend over. Remember last night I said I was owed a spanking? Well, it only takes two pillows at home but these were so thin, it took all four. That's what I was laughing at, not you. I think it is sweet that you thought your brother was a selfish oaf … but, I assure you he was a gentleman."
Barbara relaxed, even though the image Elizabeth had painted reminded her of her own dilemma, something she had yet to come to terms with. Smiling, she nodded. "Thanks, I … I would like to talk to you sometime," she said softy, her head turning to look back over her shoulder. "I mean, when you have time and we can be alone."
Elizabeth smiled and nodded. "I'd like that."
"Sounds to me we need another Sub-Club meeting," Nancy said, and when the others rolled their eyes, she shrugged her shoulders. "Face it girls, unless one of you comes up with a better name, I'll call it like it is." When Jason called out to her, she gave them a wave and went to him.
"I'll treat either of you to dinner, your choice, if you can come up with a name for our club," Elizabeth promised as they all stood from the table. "Her name sounds like we are meeting to eat those twelve-inchers." Barbara couldn't help but laugh, as the first thing that popped into her mind was quite a naughty image. Elizabeth seemed to realize it and blushed deeply. "I mean sandwiches!" she proclaimed and then giggled. "Okay, winner gets dinner and a lunch. God, please think of something!"
They all disappeared to finish packing in preparation for checking out of the hotel. Logan reminded Elizabeth to make sure she kept out a complete change of clothing, underwear included, unless she wished to go commando as she had the afternoon before. She blushed but double-checked to make sure she had lingerie in her small bag.
As Barbara packed her bag, she smiled as she tucked the pajamas into it, remembering the honest pleasure she had seen on Craig's face the night before. Her fingers stroked across the white rabbit and she thought of hearing him call her Bunny, Grace, Gracie—as well as Barbara—as if he couldn't decide what suited her the most. Some deep part of her was thrilled when he called her Bunny, as it made her feel even younger, just like she was a little girl who wasn't quite ready to grow up. She also liked Grace or Gracie, as no one had ever used her middle name before … well, except for her parents, when her entire name was used to let her know she was in deep trouble and could expect to be across her father's lap for a sound spanking. As that thought bloomed in her mind, she zipped the suitcase closed, trying to seal it away. However, until she decided what to do about the situation, she knew it would continue to pop into her mind at unexpected moments.
When they met in the lobby, they discovered that Benjamin wanted to take Helen down to Galveston to spend a lazy Sunday walking along the beach and shopping in the unique shops and boutiques all along The Strand. Since Barbara had ridden in with them, they wanted to make sure she didn't mind. Garrett said that she could ride back with him and Ariel but Craig shook his head.
"Not necessary. The lady's carriage awaits, and I'd be more than honored to escort her home. I was planning on doing so, even if Ben and Helen were staying." Barbara smiled and accepted; her parents looked pleased at the arrangement. That settled, everyone piled into cars, and while the older couple drove off in one direction, the rest of them drove back to the worksite.
Everyone was amazed at how much work had already been done. Two huge dumpsters had been brought onto the site. The friends parked some distance away and walked towards the house, where they were met by the foreman. "From now on, if you come on-site, you'll need to wear a hard hat," he said, and motioned to a large bin. As Elizabeth reached for one, the man grinned, reached under a table, and removed a box. "This is for you, ma'am," he said. Elizabeth looked at Logan who, too, looked puzzled, especially when the man pulled out another box and handed it to him. "This is yours, sir."
The two set the boxes on the table and undid the ribbon that held the lids closed. Once undone, they took the lids off and lifted a hardhat out of their box. Everyone started to chuckle and then laugh as the couple just stared at the hats and then at each other.
"Put them on!" Ariel demanded, her camera already up and ready. They did with identical sighs and then turned to their group of friends and family. Elizabeth's was neon pink with rhinestones and glitter that shone in the sunlight. Across the front, in a beautiful script was written "Haven Mistress". Logan's was coal black which would have been fine, but the front was also sparkly and the same script declared, "Haven Master". Garrett was laughing so hard at the expression on their faces that Ariel shot his picture several times. Jason and Nancy remained s
toic, their expression instantly letting everyone know whose idea this had been. Barbara just shook her head and smiled, and Craig simply watched her, enjoying her reaction.
"Haven Note: Shouldn't Liz's say Haven Sub?" Barbara said, and there was a second of silence before the entire group broke up again, this time Nancy joining in.
"You are absolutely correct. There's hope for you yet, girlfriend," Nancy giggled, and hugged Barbara.
Elizabeth and Logan shrugged and grinned, knowing their friends were just teasing. After everyone had put on a hardhat, the grinning foreman told them that their contractor, Ryan Douglas, was inside waiting to walk them through the house. Walls were already being demolished, allowing light to flood through the tall windows. When they went into the kitchen, they all were shocked at the progress. All of the debris from the cabinet demolition was gone, as was much of the cracked linoleum flooring. Barbara felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing that she and Craig had done most of the demo work. They made their way carefully up the stairs, being warned that while the risers and treads were in good condition under the thick coating of paint, the railing would need to be redone. What had been several small rooms was going to be transformed into three bedrooms on each side of the wide hallway, all which would include a larger ensuite bath.
"Logan wanted to just put big shower stalls in but we're still arguing. I know that I like soaking in a bubble bath and think a tub with a shower head would be fine. What do you think?" Elizabeth asked, ready to take notes with the pad and pen she was holding.
"Heck, I enjoy a soak just as much as Ariel, especially when soothing my girl after a spanking," Garrett said, giving her a smile. "But, please if you do put in tubs, could you make them big enough so that my knees aren't up to my chin?" The other men agreed, and Elizabeth smiled.
