Sweet as Candy - Karla Doyle Page 0,40

for a peek at the giggler. Jake and Macy sat on the floor, their blond heads nearly touching as they drew a picture together. The perfection of it tugged at Candace’s heart.

Jake looked up, smiling as he met her gaze. “Need help in the kitchen?”

“No, you’re good where you are.” She returned to the meal prep before he could read the depth of truth in her statement.

Before Jake barged into her life, she’d had a plan mapped out. A solid, plotted plan that included her and Macy. Beginning, middle, and end. Jake had changed things. First for her, and now, possibly, for Macy. He made her want things she hadn’t dared to dream about since Ken exited their lives.

The trouble with warm and tingly feelings was their lack of permanence. Like smoke rings, they faded and disappeared, leaving only a burning cancer stick behind.

She needed a new plan before her life, and Macy’s, went up in smoke.

Jake

“Is Macy asleep?”

Candace eased into place on the couch, beneath his outstretched arm. “Yes. Like an angel.”

“Good.” Not because he wanted the little girl out of the way. He liked the kid. Genuinely, to his surprise. But he liked her mother more. “You have a nice voice. Do you sing to her every night?”

“Except for nights she falls asleep watching a movie, or in the car, yes. It calmed her as a baby, and it has been our routine ever since.”

“You’re a great mom.”

“Most of the time.”

He could let the comment go, pull her in closer and move on to the adult-content section of the night. His cock liked that plan. His gut, not so much. “Want to talk about what made you upset right before I got here?”

“That was hours ago.”

“Did you think I’d forget?”

“No. You don’t forget anything.” A soft sigh left her lips as she tilted her head to look at him. “We don’t have to waste time talking about my mama drama. Wouldn’t you rather do, oh, I don’t know…” She trailed her fingers down his chest, sliding the tips beneath the waistband of his jeans. “Something else?”

The suggestion had his cock straining to meet her fingertips. He shifted position and her hand fell away, onto his thigh. Still tempting, but less distracting. “Time with you is never a waste. As for the something else—absolutely, always. But I’m not with you just to get with you, Candace. We’ve got time for all of it, so talk to me.”

She leaned closer, cupping his jaw in her palms, her soft gaze moving over his face. “I—” Her hair danced on her shoulders as she shook her head.

“You can tell me anything. I’m here for you. For you and Macy.”

“I know,” she said, straddling his lap. Balancing on her knees, she reached inside her shirt and unfastened her bra, drew it out through one sleeve and dropped it to the floor. “I don’t want to talk right now.” She lifted his hands from their safe positions on the couch and slid them under the material, up to her breasts. “Can we do something else instead?”

“Yeah.” He barely got the word out without groaning. “We can do whatever you want.”

“I want this.” Hands flat on his chest, she kissed him. A lips-parted, hint of tongue, body grinding against his cock kiss. “Is this okay?”

“It’s amazing.”

Back and forth, she rocked. Faster. Harder. “Jake,” she breathed his name against his lips between hungry kisses. “Jake.”

He wasn’t letting her get away this time. He gave up one perfect tit to cradle the back of her neck. Hold her head in place so he could fuck her mouth with his tongue while she rocked against his throbbing dick. Stroke for stroke, he matched her rhythm. The way he’d do if he were balls-deep in her pussy.

A hot bite of pain flamed beneath her hands as she dug her nails into his pecs. Rhythm gone, she jerked against him. Moaned into his mouth. The sexiest fucking sound he’d ever heard filled his head, vibrated throughout his body. He pushed his hips higher. Held his body taut so she could use him to ride it out. So insanely fucking sexy.

Fuck, he was close. Too close. One wrong move, hell, any move, and he was going to explode. He held his breath, willed his dick to stand down as Candace relaxed against him. Ten, nine, eight, seven, sex— Fuck. Not sex, six. Six. Five, four—

“Your turn,” she whispered against his neck.

Ten. Fifty. One-fucking-hundred.

She slid from his lap, onto the floor. Pushed