Cupcakes and Christmas - R.J. Scott Page 0,53

at the fire exit to the stairs before I called him back.

“Do you like cupcakes in a mug? Y’know, mug cakes?” I asked the cake master who baked for major celebrity weddings and birthdays. He turned to face me. His hand on the door handle ready to go.

“Do bears shit in the woods?” he replied and let go of the handle, then he patted his belly with a rueful expression. “I like all cake.”

“Do you want to come in? I can make you one.”

He didn’t hesitate, there was no thinking time, and before I knew it, he was in my suite, and I was shutting the door behind us.

“This is cool,” he said as he peeked into the next room.

“I upgraded,” I said hurriedly, in case he thought I was getting preferential treatment. “I like the space.”

“And why wouldn’t you? This is awesome. Look at this extra shower, it’s way better than what I have.” He wandered back out of the second shower room.

“You can come over and use it whenever you want,” I blurted, and he sent me a wide smile and waggled his eyebrows.

“It’s big enough for two.”

Oh God, why do I do with that?

“It is,” I said, and he smiled again. Did he imagine me and him in there? I’ve never made love in a shower before. The physics of it, the slippery surface, the hardness on knees, the lack of space.

“So you promised me a cupcake in a mug?”

Now that I could do, so I stopped thinking about Brody and me in the shower and went over to the little kitchen and pulled out what I needed, losing myself in doing this simple thing and making him coffee at the same time.

“I have decaf,” I offered.

“No, full is fine, I can sleep wherever and whenever.” He settled on the arm of the nearest sofa. “My family call sleeping my superpower, not that I’ve been doing a lot of it the last few months, what with getting ahead of myself to do this competition.”

“You’ve made a successful business as well,” I said. “I saw you did a cake for the—”

“Don’t mention the K cake, that was a nightmare from start to finish.”

“Still, good publicity, isn’t that what it’s about?”

“Never again will I do a cake for a reality star who thinks the world owes them something just because they’re all over social media or on TV.” He winced as soon as he said that. “No offense meant.”

“None taken. I’m not as invested in my career as everyone thinks.”

Wow. Where did that one come from? I’d never said anything like that out loud before. I loved my popularity, the way I could make an ingredient sell out at a local store, the way I was collecting money hand over fist and hoarding it away. I was a success, and I loved it.

Well, kind of loved it. I love the money, that’s for sure.

“Here you go.” I handed him the cupcake in a mug. “Lemon and blueberry.”

He fell on it like a pack of ravenous wolves and only glanced up at me after his third mouthful. “Ooops. I can’t get enough of these, used to make them all the time when I was in college.” He patted his belly. “I only have to look at cake and my belly is soft, let alone taste it all the time, but… ” He put another spoonful in his mouth and closed his eyes. “Simple,” he mumbled with his mouth full. “But so good.”

I could kiss him… but then all my worries and that black cloud that was hovering all vanished at the sight of him with his eyes closed, and his lips parted in a sigh. I wanted to kiss him.

I’m going to kiss him.

I leaned down and pressed my lips to his, cradling his face, tasting blueberry and lemon and the sweetness of the cake as I deepened the kiss. I heard him put down the mug on the small table by the sofa. I felt his hands on me, and then abruptly we were both on the sofa. He was lying flat and I was sprawled over him, kissing him as if I didn’t need air.

This was not going to stick at one kiss. I wanted all of him, the taste and the touch, and the kisses. Feeling his hard cock against mine, I rolled off the couch. I was frantic with need. I pulled him with me until I was on the floor and he was on top