He met her innocent gaze and enclosed his lips over her finger, sucking the chocolate, warm and sweet, into his mouth.
‘Good?’
Blood and desire were surging to his groin, but he managed a smile and a nod.
She dipped her finger in again, then reached up and slid the warm chocolate over his neck. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she pushed onto her tiptoes, gripped his shoulders and sucked at his neck. Holy Jesus, help me.
Instantly hard.
No stopping it.
Licking her lips, she grinned. ‘Yummy.’
He blew out a long breath, scrubbed his palm over his chin. How was he going to help her bake when she was doing things like that? Her seductive blue eyes met his. Beneath those long lashes was wickedness.
Had this been her plan the entire time?
Wet ingredients were tipped into the dry ingredients, then Amy mixed the batter by hand with a long metal whisk. A blush crept along her cheeks, and her lips were parted. Everything inside him moved, beckoned him to touch her.
With each whip of the whisk in the batter, her breasts wobbled and stroked that primal side of him that found such things mesmerising.
No longer thinking, ruled by his desire, he stood behind her, his chest to her back, and stroked her hair to the side. As his lips neared the curve of her neck, her scent consumed him: sugar and bubble bath.
He pressed kisses along her neck until her head lolled back, bearing herself more to him. He sucked then, tasting the sweetness of that soft skin at the curve between her head and shoulder.
Spinning to face him, Amy lifted the whisk from the batter. She hovered it above her chest and allowed the silky batter to drip, landing on the plump top of her cleavage. Before the next drop could fall, she tongued the whisk, licking it long and slow.
The growl that sprung from Tom’s chest surprised him, but then again, he’d never had a woman tease him like this. He lowered his mouth to her breasts and licked the batter off, then sucked the flesh gently into his mouth.
Amy glided her tongue along the whisk again, from handle to tip. He groaned. Not needing any more of an invitation to taste her mouth, he bent and kissed her deeply, savouring the sweet chocolate batter on her tongue. As he deepened the kiss, he lifted her up until she was seated on the bench and stepped between her legs.
His brain swam through an aroused fog. His body was firing and tight with need. He wasn’t going to be any kind of useful assistant not now she had whipped him into this type of frenzy.
He tugged her shirt over her head, tossed it to the side, and stared at the bounty of breasts presented before him straining against a lacy pink bra. As sexy as that bra was, he had every intention of sliding it off and drizzling chocolate over what swelled beneath and feeding off her nipples.
As though reading his wicked thoughts, Amy reached behind her back, unclasped her bra and slowly peeled the straps from her shoulders. As his gaze roamed over her full breasts, nipples hard, he thought her the most incredible woman on the planet. His mouth was actually watering.
Amy reached for the bowl of chocolate. ‘Dip your thumb in, Tom. Is it warm enough?’
He did as she asked. A hand to his wrist, she drew that chocolate coated thumb to her mouth, wrapped her lips around it and sucked and swirled her tongue. He hardened more, if that was at all possible, as though his thumb and shaft now shared a sexual connection.
His breaths were coming faster, shallower, and he was so worked up, desperate to taste her, fill her up with him, he ached. ‘Warm enough.’
Amy reached for a spoon and held it out to him. He grinned as he took it from her and scooped out the runny chocolate. He allowed the spoon to hover above her breasts. The silky mixture drizzled onto her nipples, some sneaking onto the soft skin of her belly.
Desperate to taste her, he closed his mouth over her nipple, drew it deep into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the taut peak.
The combination was heady, and when she softly sighed, he groaned, losing control. He licked over her nipple, sucked again until all the chocolate was gone, then he greedily moved to the opposite breast until that too had been licked clean.
With a hand to her chest, he urged her to lie back against the bench then fed from her stomach, edging lower.
He unbuttoned her jeans and helped her remove them, followed by her panties. A drizzle of more chocolate across her belly, over her mound, and along her inner thighs before he licked every part clean.
Her skin was warm silk against his tongue, sweetly delicious from the chocolate. And with his lips and tongue stroking the length of her inner thigh, so close to her most delicious centre, he couldn’t help but taste. Her pleasured mewl sung out in the silence. With or without chocolate, she was the sweetest treat.
As she neared the edge of her limits, she rolled to meet his mouth, asking for more, and he gave it, long firm licks over her clit until she gasped and sat up, panting. ‘Hang on.’ She reached for Tom’s shirt. ‘I want you naked too.’
A cheeky smile loitered on his lips as he lifted his shirt the rest of the way, then unbuttoned his jeans. She tugged hard at the hem, urging him to hurry. He chuckled.
When fully naked, so engorged his erection was almost touching his stomach, he stood between her legs. With her on the bench, naked, and legs spread before him, they were a perfect height.
She clawed at his shoulders, edging him closer, opening her thighs wider and wrapped her legs around his hips. ‘I neeeeed you,’ she hissed, voice low and husky.
Tell me about it.
He couldn’t hold back, had zero self-control left. He guided his shaft to that glistening opening and nudged until she was full of him. She felt so damn good he was ready to explode.
He waited an unmoving moment, breathing deeply to settle himself or this was going to be over too quickly. But then she rocked against him eliciting a deep rumble in his chest as pleasure shook through him. There was no delaying this.
He thrust, long and slow at first, until he could no longer control his motions. He circled his hips, making sure there was friction with her clit. He knew every time he hit it because she’d moan ever so quietly.
They could have been anywhere because nothing else existed but the two of them and this intensity of sensation.
How they were together at that moment had nothing to do with cooking and everything to do with satiating the desire to be near and full and cherished.
And every touch that was never quite firm enough, and each kiss that could never be deep enough, and the sighs and the pressure and the tight, aching pleasure would never be enough when he wanted them to be whole.
But it was more than he had ever felt or imagined he needed, and the brilliant pleasure of their togetherness penetrated his flesh down deep into his heart and his bones and his marrow.
And when she threw her head back, eyes closed and breathed through an orgasm, he let himself go, thrusting deep and hard until he was spent.
Afterwards, as Tom touched Amy’s face and kissed her for a long moment, unwilling to pull away, he felt connected to her, the way he fit so perfectly inside her, and they breathed in each other’s air. Like they were one for a little while. He’d take that moment, and any other that followed.
‘I think your cupcakes are a potent force,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Make me behave wildly. Or maybe that’s just your influence.’
Amy giggled. ‘No, it’s definitely the cupcakes.’
Chapter 24
Mitch lifted his bloodshot eyes to meet Amy’s as she strode through to the lounge room around noon on Saturday.
Amy was startled by the unkempt stubble on his usually shaven chin and the nest of hair on his head. Soured booze filled her nostrils. The three empty bottles of wine on the coffee table did not escape notice.
‘Hi,’ she said.
Mitch grumbled hello back but winced and pressed a hand to his forehead.
‘Rough night?’
‘You could say that.’
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Amy sat on the lounge next to him and squeezed Sophie’s foot gently. ‘Hello, Sophie darling. Don’t you look gorgeous today?’
She was dressed in a bright pink dress with little pants that had frills on the bum. Her hair was brushed and held back with a thin, pink headband. She was almost finished with a bottle.
Mitch might have looked like hell, but at least he’d taken care of her needs.
Amy gestured to the wine bottles. ‘You think that’s a good idea?’
Mitch turned to her, eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t know, Amy. You seem the expert. Why don’t you tell me?’
No, she didn’t think it was okay, nor would it help with his grief, but she also understood why he would feel the need to drown his sorrows, so she bit her tongue. ‘Get much sleep?’
He shook his head.
‘I’ll make you some lunch.’
In the kitchen, Amy stacked the dishwasher with the dirty dishes piled in the sink. She scrubbed Sophie’s bottles, rimmed with dry milk, and placed them in there too. With disinfectant, she cleaned down all the benches, straightened the stools, wiped out the microwave.
Amy checked the fridge. There was barely any fresh produce. The cupboards were bare. She’d have to do some shopping for him, so he didn’t starve himself to death. She checked the freezer, noting her homemade meal supply was getting low, which was a relief. At least he was eating something.
Amy found some cheese in the fridge and some bread she’d frozen a few weeks ago and made him a couple of toasted sandwiches. She placed them on the couch beside him while he was burping Sophie.
‘I know you won’t agree, but I’m ordering you to sleep. This can’t be helping your situation.’
He glared, incredulous. ‘You think I like this? You think I wouldn’t love to lie down and fall straight to sleep, not a care in the world? All I can think about is how Rachel’s not in bed beside me. Or how Sophie smiled for the first time yesterday, and that’s just one of many milestones Rachel will never get to see. I’d love to not miss her every single breath. But no matter what I fucking do, she’s gone.’
Amy sighed. ‘I know. It’s a horrible situation.’ She didn’t bother adding all the clichés like they were going to get through this, or just had to take it day by day, or time will heal because all of those sentiments, at the moment, wouldn’t make one difference to how Mitch was feeling. She knew because they didn’t help her at all either.
How could anyone take one day at a time when they could barely keep it together minute to minute?
‘But, you’ve got Sophie now. And she needs you. She needs you to take care of yourself—to eat properly, to try, as hard as it might be, to get some sleep from time to time, and to keep things as stable as possible.’
She might sound harsh, but it was the truth. And she was sure Rachel would agree with her. If she were able to, she’d be kicking him up the arse.
Sophie let out a monstrous burp, startling Amy. She looked at her with wide eyes. How could someone so little make such a sound? Amy couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Wow, Sophie, trying for a Guinness world record there?’
Mitch smiled and lifted her over his shoulder. ‘You should hear the other end. She gives me a run for my money.’
Amy giggled. ‘I can’t believe that. Not our little Sophie.’ And then, just to confirm that size does not matter, a quick series of rumbles sounded in her nappy. Amy burst into laughter. ‘I take that back.’
Mitch slanted a brow as if to say, I told you so.
Amy held out her arms. ‘Here, let me take her. I’ll pack a bag, and I’d like to spend the afternoon with her. Let you have a sleep. Or go see your brothers. Or catch up around the vineyard.’
‘You’re not going to let me get out of this, are you?’
Amy shook her head. ‘Sorry, but I’m putting my foot down. Besides, Sophie and I have earned a girls day out.’ Amy peered into Sophie’s eyes and said in a childish voice, ‘Haven’t we? What do you think? You and I will go do a bit of grocery shopping for Dad? Maybe go for a stroll in your pram?’
She turned to Mitch again, who was watching his daughter with a warmth of adoration in his gaze, as though she was the most magical being on the planet. And in a way, she was. A true blessing. ‘So she smiled yesterday?’
Mitched nodded, both pride and sorrow lining his features.
‘You’re such a clever girl.’ It was important, with all the distractions and pain of the current situation, that they remembered this new life who deserved to be celebrated.
‘Are you going to show me?’ she asked, tickling Sophie’s soft cheek. ‘Show me how clever you are.’ Sophie watched Amy, curled her fingers and kicked her legs a little, but didn’t smile.
‘I can be patient,’ she said. ‘And persistent.’
A large meadow at the end of town had its back to a growth of Alpine Ash, the thick blonde trunks thrusting high in the sky.
Two toddlers, mum’s watching on, raced under a big oak tree with old gnarled limbs and creviced bark. Burnt orange shades of autumn were already colouring the tips of the ragged leaves. Little children, rugged up to buffer the cooling weather, stamped on the dry leaves that had already fallen to the grass below, bright smiles lighting their red-flushed faces.
A playground was at one end. Mums and dads pushed kids on swings, while other children rocked on spring animals, jumped over colourfully painted mushroom caps, or climbed the big timber jungle gym.
Around the meadow was a cement path that Amy scooted Sophie along in her stroller. The sun managed to sneak through the few dark clouds that otherwise blemished the sky and stole the heat.
After two lazy laps, Amy sat on a bench near a reedy pond, ducks gliding along the still water. Some waddled out, pecked at the grass.
She unpacked Sophie’s bottle and a little towel. If she fed Sophie now, then she should sleep in the trolley capsule while Amy did some shopping.
But Sophie was still wide-eyed by the time Amy arrived at the supermarket. Amy chuckled to herself as she spotted three saddled horses standing in a row, their reins tied to the trolley collection section.
‘You don’t see stuff like that in Melbourne,’ she said to Sophie as she unbuckled her from the capsule.
Leaves blew across the cracked bitumen car park. A woman rushed to stop a trolley from blowing into a car.
Amy managed to fill her trolley with nearly all that she needed before Sophie started to grizzle. She hastened her pace around the small store, collecting the last few items. But by the time she made it to the checkout, Sophie was full-on screaming, her cries high-pitched like a bleating lamb.
Amy collected a red-faced Sophie from the capsule that sat atop the trolley and cradled her in her arms to spare the other shoppers from being bellowed to the ground.
‘Need some help?’ came a voice behind her.
Felicity with a sympathetic smile.
Amy blew out a relieved breath. ‘Yes, please.’ She’d never been happier to run into someone she knew.
While Amy rocked and paced, circling her hand over Sophie’s little back, Felicity unpacked each item, placing them on the conveyor belt, then pushed the trolley out to the car park and loaded the groceries into the back of the car. The next time Felicity came into Amy’s store, her cupcakes would be on the house.
Sophie was bundled into her capsule, warm and cosy. Amy drove not even two minutes of their journey home, and she looked in the rear view. Like a little angel, Sophie was sound asleep. Typical.
Parked out the back of Sugar Cakes, Amy opened the car door. The wind blew her hair over her face and whistled through the car. How quickly it had arrived.
‘You could’ve waited until we got home,’ she whispered to Sophie as she lifted her out of the car with slow, considered movements.
Sophie stirred a little, letting out a small cry, but Amy rocked her against her chest until she drifted back to sleep, every movement into the shop considered and noise kept to a minimum. Holding her breath, she placed her
in the centre of her bed and tiptoed out of the room. Only then, as she pulled the door closed, but leaving it ajar enough so she could hear Sophie, did she take a breath.
Although, going by the power of the babe’s lungs at the grocery shop, Amy didn’t think she’d have any problems hearing her. How could a small set of lungs produce such high-pitched bleating?
Once Amy was certain Sophie had settled, she started on hauling the groceries in from the car, packing away her own and leaving Mitch’s separate. Her phone rang, as obtrusive as a fire alarm, while she was outside getting the final bags. She dropped them on the ground, heart thumping, and sprinted back inside, reaching her phone before, God forbid, it rang again.
‘Hello,’ she answered breathlessly, creeping towards the door and looking through the gap at Sophie. Sound asleep, wrapped up in her blanket.
‘Amy? You okay?’
It was Tom.
She didn’t answer again until she was outside. ‘Fine. I’ve got Sophie here. She’s sleeping. I forgot to turn my phone down.’
‘You’ve got Sophie?’
‘Yep. Till this afternoon. Hopefully Mitch will catch up on some rest.’
‘I was going to ask you if you wanted to have lunch somewhere, but I guess we’ll have to take a raincheck.’
‘You can come over here if you like? I’ll make us some toasted sandwiches. But you must promise to be quiet.’
He laughed. ‘I promise. I’ll see you soon.’
Amy unloaded the rest of the groceries and got to preparing lunch. They could have ordinary toasted sandwiches, or she could prepare delicious croque-monsieurs just like the one’s she’d learned to make while on work experience in Paris.
By the time Tom arrived, she had the béchamel made, the ham and bread slices ready, as well as the beautiful mustard she’d bought from a local farmers market.
Tom sniffed the air and smiled as he strode to her. ‘Smells good. How are you?’
She kissed his lips. ‘Good. You?’
‘Great, now I’m here. I feel like I haven’t seen you for three months.’
She giggled. ‘It’s only been three days. Imagine how you’ll feel when you’re back at work.’
Bittersweet Page 19
