Making Whoopie - Erin Nicholas Page 0,22

him want to stay, all made happy bubbles of emotion fizz through her body.

That was damned romantic.

He might be fighting the feelings, but he was having them.

She liked that a lot.

He nodded. “You’ll see me tomorrow.”

She grinned. “I thought you kind of thought you should stay away.”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“So…” She trailed off on purpose, really wanting him to fill in that blank.

He hesitated for just a second, then he backed her up against the island where they’d just been very friendly, braced a hand on the counter next to her, and leaned in. “So…” he said, his voice low and husky. “Now that I’ve had a taste of your cupcakes, I have no chance of staying away.”

That was exactly what she’d wanted him to say. Or a very nice variation of it anyway. She looped her arms around his neck and went up on tiptoe, pressing her lips to his. He didn’t move his hands or lean in any closer, but he kissed her back thoroughly.

When she pulled back she said, “I like your cupcakes a lot too, Grant.”

He gave a short huff of laughter. “My cupcakes? That’s not very manly.”

She arched into him, pressing against his cock that was already hardening again. “Your Yule log?” she asked, then giggled.

He growled and kissed her again, deeply and hungrily. When he lifted his head, she was breathing hard. “I’m going to go,” he said firmly. “But I’ll be thinking about your cream filling all night.”

Her eyes widened for just a moment. That was surprisingly dirty. And funny. And hot. “I hope so,” she told him honestly.

Lord knew she was going to be lying in bed thinking about him. She loved the idea that it would be mutual.

Grant grabbed his shirt, donned his shoes, and headed for the back door with a final, “’Night, Jocelyn” as he paused at the threshold. Then he was gone.

Josie gave what could only be described as a swoony sigh as the screen door slapped shut behind him.

She surveyed her kitchen. It was a disaster. And it made her smile.

Then, still wearing only an apron, she pulled the frozen cookies out to thaw for Karen for the next day and she went to work baking cupcakes for Grant. Very special cupcakes. Just for him.

“Is this a pussy cupcake?”

Dax was standing in front of the bakery box Grant had set on the table in Aiden’s office. Dax had just lifted the lid to check out the goodies.

Grant crossed the room quickly. He looked down into the box.

Of pornographic cupcakes.

His mouth twitched.

Jocelyn had baked him cupcakes. Especially for him, or so she’d said when she’d grinned at him as if she’d never been happier to see anyone in her life and handed over the bright yellow Buttered Up bakery box.

He’d been downright dazzled by that smile. He’d had a hell of a time falling asleep after leaving her, and he swore, even after a shower, that his skin still smelled like chocolate cake. And Jocelyn.

Then he’d walked into the bakery, and her face had fucking lit up when she’d seen him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him like that. He did get a lot of admiration and general gratitude from the women who attended his financial seminars. But this had been different. He hadn’t helped Jocelyn pay off her credit cards or refinance her house. He’d just laughed and fucked and had fun with her.

And she’d looked at him like seeing him had made her entire day.

Damn. That had jabbed him right in the chest.

He’d still been thinking about it when he’d taken the box of cupcakes and headed for the office. He’d still been thinking about her. And how eager he’d been to see her too and how much he wanted to carry her into the kitchen and take a nice deep taste of her. Her mouth. Her breasts. Her pussy.

Yeah, her actual pussy had definitely been on his mind. Which was why he hadn’t looked inside the bakery box—where she’d given him another sweet, sticky, delicious pussy to start his day—before bringing them in to share with the guys.

He’d figured he wasn’t going to be able to eat six cupcakes anyway, and he’d looked forward to the guys wondering why Jocelyn had made him special cupcakes.

That was pretty obvious now. But how could he have expected the woman who made caterpillar cupcakes to make him sexual cupcakes?

There were six. Two were breasts, complete with hard nipples. One was a mouth. One was a

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