Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cam
I feel like something has shifted. I don’t know what or when or why, but two nights ago as we sat back here in our suite and laughed over the antics of my friends, I felt at home with Fletcher.
I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder, our feet propped up on an ottoman we dragged across the living space. And when I woke, I was in my bed. He must have brought me in here after I fell asleep.
I smile at that as I start to wake up, snuggling beneath my blankets for a final few moments of silence.
Then the reality of the day hits me. We’re about to start the finale. I’m proud of us and nervous as hell. So much rides on us winning. I need this. Phyllis is keeping the store afloat while I’m gone, but sales are down and McDowell’s isn’t even set to open for a few more weeks.
I get out of bed and head into the bathroom. I get ready as fast as I can and then meet Fletcher in the hallway.
“Ready?” I ask.
He nods. He had the driver pick up some more appropriate clothing for him for this week and he looks…
well, like he belongs on television. I, however, look like a deranged, crazy cat lady who just saw daylight for the first time in a month.
My hair, as much as I have tried, is its usual mess of curls.
My skin is pale because I have no time for the sun.
And my outfit, while clean, is from a thrift store that I went to with Jocelyn a few weeks ago.
It all pales in comparison to Fletcher’s high-end clothing and perfectly styled hair.
The guy doesn’t even need hair and makeup.
“What?” he asks as if sensing my annoyance.
“Nothing, just…nerves,” I white lie because I am nervous.
“No worries. We got this.” He holds a hand up for a high five and I raise an eyebrow.
“What?” he asks, keeping his hand in the air.
“Are we ten?” I question, fighting a smirk.
He looks me up and down and then with a heated stare shakes his head. I watch him swallow hard. His perfect lips press together before he speaks. “No, you are most definitely not a child, Camryn.”
I feel my skin flush under his intense gaze. Holy shit, is Fletcher flirting with me?
I lick my lips and clear my throat. “Let’s go,” I command, not wanting to think anymore about Fletcher and what those perfect lips could do to me.
He only nods and presses his hand to my back as we walk out and down to the competition area.
My nerves double as I step up to the counter. We perfected everything yesterday and the prep day went so well that they decided to move up the competition day to today after both teams agreed we were ready.
I tie my apron and set out everything as the camera crew gets ready. I feel my hand shake a little as I set down a knife and Fletcher’s hand covers mine. I look up at him.
“We got this, Hollywood. Just like yesterday. Your cupcakes are going to win this thing,” he says, reaching out with his other hand to twirl a loose strand of hair around his finger. He gives it a little tug and smiles down at me.
Felicity comes over with a grim look on her face and Fletcher’s hand falls away. “What’s up?” he asks.
She looks at me. “Small hiccup. A pipe burst in your room, Camryn. I had my PA get your things and place them in Fletcher’s room while the staff clean up, but the room may not be habitable until after you leave.
I can get a cot for the living room. But all the other rooms are booked and the nearest hotel has the crew staying in it and apparently fans for a local college football team.
I’m so sorry. I just wanted you to know so you aren’t surprised when you go up there later.
Fortunately, the clothes in the closet are dry, so that’s good,” she says giving me a look of pity.
I sigh. “Thanks, Felicity. A cot is fine.”
“She can have my room. I’ll take the cot,” Fletcher says.
We both look at him. “You won’t fit on a cot,” I say with a laugh.
He narrows his eyes. “Don’t question me, Tanner. We’ll make it work.”
“OK, phew. Good. Now, go win this competition,” she whispers as she looks around. “Don’t tell the other team, but I’m rooting for you.”
“Thanks,” I manage.
Felicity leaves us to finish prepping and Fletcher places his hand on my arm as I go to turn. I look back at him.
“It’s an omen. Something good will happen now,” he says as if he’s some kind of psychic.
“I hope so,” I say as the show’s director yells out directions and we steady ourselves for the last competition.
* * *
I’m silent as the judges stand at our station tasting my candied cranberry cupcakes with orange frosting. I’ve told them my inspiration story. Fletcher has stood silent, watching me do my thing.
I honestly can’t tell what they’re thinking. They asked similar questions of our competitor team, and now, I have no idea.
The head judge who is some celebrity chef on television sets down the remainder of the cupcake and looks at us and then at his two fellow judges.
“We’ll be right back. We need to compare notes,” he says and they all step outside the area to talk.
I feel sweat dripping down my back. I’ve never been so nervous in my life.
“I think I might die from anxiety,” Fletcher mutters.
I laugh nervously.
I’m about to say I feel the same when the judges walk back inside.
“That was fast,” I mutter under my breath.
They stand in the front of the area and look at both teams.
“It was a tough decision. Team Benson’s Bakery, your chocolate mint cupcakes were delightful.
They really brought out the peppermint flavor that many of us nostalgically remember at the holidays.
And, Team Cam’s Café, your candied cranberry and orange-frosted cupcakes were the perfect combination of flavors so many of us remember at holiday meals.
But one team’s cupcake stood out for its unique blend of flavors and textures.
And so I am happy to announce the winner of this year’s City Bake-Off is… Team Cam’s Café,” the head judge says.
I try to process what he’s saying but I think I’m in shock. I stand there with my mouth falling open, my eyes wide.
“We did it!” Fletcher says excitedly as he picks me up and hugs me, spinning us both in a circle.
I laugh and throw my head back as I realize I did it. I might just be able to keep my dream café.
Fletcher sets me down and we grin at each other like fools.
“Congratulations,” the head judge says as all the judges walk over to see us.
The next half hour is filled with congratulations and celebratory drinks. My head is spinning by the time we finally get back to our suite.
We walk in and I immediately note the cot in the living room. Shit. I completely forgot about that.
“You can have my room,” Fletcher insists.
“No, I…Fletcher, that cot is so small. It’s fine. I don’t care,” I state. I’m still riding the high of the win and I honestly couldn’t care less if I slept on the floor.
“I care,” he says and I turn to look at him. That heat is in his eyes again, the one that makes it feel like he’s going to eat me alive.
I shiver under the intensity of whatever is happening between us. I haven’t wanted a man this bad in…well, forever.
“I…” I swallow because I don’t know what to say.
He places a single finger over my lips and I freeze. He steps forward and then again, backing me into the wall beside his doorframe.
“Hollywood, I’ve been wanting to do this for days.
I shouldn’t. I should go in that room and shut the door and then leave after tomorrow and go right back to wanting to evaporate your business, but I can’t stop myself any longer.
Not anymore,” he says, his lips dangerously close to mine.
His eyes search mine for something, maybe approval, consent. Who knows?
I lick my lips and bite the bottom one before I finally speak. “Then, don’t,” I manage.
And that’s all it takes. His lips are on mine, his hands grip my ass and pull me up the wall. I respond with a yelp that only lets his tongue plunder my mouth. Holy shit, this is happening.
I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. He squeezes me hard against him, pressing us to the wall. His tongue moves against mine. He tastes of the orange frosting and the candied cranberries. I swear he ate as many as we put in the cupcakes.
I feel his erection digging into my belly and I grind my center against it. He groans into my mouth.
Just that little noise has me wanting to rip off all my clothes and then his.
I need him in a way I’ve never needed a man before.
I don’t understand what’s come over me. Maybe it’s winning.
Maybe it’s everything we’ve been through in the last few weeks.
Whatever the reason, I start pulling at his shirt.
“Fletch, I need you,” I whisper against his lips.
He pauses and I feel him smile. “You called me Fletch.”
“That’s your name, isn’t it?” I ask, my lips trailing along his five o’clock shadow.
“Well, Cam, it is my name. And I like hearing that version of it from you,” he replies, his head dipping and his mouth leaving a wet trail on my neck. I shiver under his touch.
“The one-bed issue is resolved,” he adds as he walks us into his room, his hands clutching my ass, pressing me against him. “We’re both in here tonight.”
“We’re sharing your bed?” I tease as I nip at his jaw.
“Yes, but there won’t be any sleeping,” he murmurs as he lets me slide down his front.
“Good, ’cause I’m not tired,” I reply with a smirk. He reaches down and yanks my shirt over my head. For a few seconds, we’re a frenzy of removing clothing, pulling and tugging until we’re both naked.
“I knew you’d be perfect,” he says in his deep, gravelly voice as his eyes rove over my body.
I feel goose bumps dot my skin, my body coming to life from his intense gaze.
I look over his flawless muscled torso and then my eyes land on his penis and…
I freeze. Holy shit! I had no idea Fletcher McDowell was so well-endowed.
I swallow because it’s been a few months and the last guy I was with wasn’t small but he also wasn’t this big.
Fletch raises an eyebrow and a full smirk graces his lips. I glare at him and his smirk widens.
“Get your ass over here, Hollywood,” he commands with a crook of his finger.
I swallow hard and step up to him so we are toe to toe.
He cups my face gently in his hands and suddenly my anxiety notches down. I close my eyes and lean into his right hand a little. His thumb brushes gently over my cheek, while the other one combs through my hair, pulling out my hair tie and letting my curly locks fall across my shoulders.
“I love your hair,” he whispers as he leans in and rubs his face along the side of my head and then down to my cheek where he kisses me softly. It feels so unlike him, this gentle, tender man is the exact opposite of the one I expected. How did I gauge him so wrong?
I hesitantly reach out and grasp his dick in my hand, rubbing up and down, a motion that wins me another groan.
“Tanner, get on that bed, right now,” he growls and I shiver once more. His voice when he’s commanding me to do something is so hot.
“Have you ever considered narrating a romance book?” I ask. I step away from him and get on the bed, lying back and slowly spreading my legs. His gaze travels down my body, lingering over my breasts before taking in the intimate folds between my legs.
He keeps his eyes on my sex as he answers, “No, Tanner. I haven’t. But I’ll gladly narrate what I’m about to do to you.”
He positions himself between my legs and I can feel his breath on my sensitive skin that’s already wet with need. “First, I’m going to eat this pretty pussy until you’re begging me to let you come. Then…” He pauses for effect.
“Then, what?” I whisper breathily.
“Then, I’m going to roll a condom on and slide into this…” He trails off again and slowly runs a finger between my folds and then inside me. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Hot, wet, tight perfection. And I’m going to fuck you until you forget that we ever hated each other.”
He looks up at me as if waiting for me to agree to his plans. How could a woman say no to that? I mean, seriously, who would turn this down?
Deciding I need to accept his proposal for the sake of all women everywhere, I agree with a small nod of my head.
“I need to hear it,” he murmurs, blowing on my sensitive bud that’s two inches too far from his mouth.
“Yes, yes, I want that too,” I beg as I grasp his hair in my hands and push his face toward me. He chuckles for a second, but then swipes his tongue along my wet flesh and I practically convulse just from that one touch.
He takes that as a sign that I want more and he’s right, I do want more, so much more. His tongue and finger start working me, testing the movements I like, waiting for my breath to hitch and my body to shake with the need to release.
And just when I’m about to come, he pulls back.
“Fletcher! Don’t make me hate you again,” I scold in frustration.
He grabs a roll of condoms from a bag near the bed and puts one on before climbing back over me.
“Don’t worry, Tanner, if anything, I’m a man of my word.
And right now, I need to fuck you until you are screaming my name loud enough for the entire crew to hear it,” he growls as he pushes inside me until he’s buried to the hilt.
My breath leaves my body again as I adjust to his size.
“You alright, Cam?” he asks after a moment of letting me acclimate, his face an inch from mine.
I nod. “Yes,” I whisper as I look up at him.
“Good, ’cause I’m going to make you come so hard, you’re going to remember this night more than the win we just had,” he announces as he begins to move inside me.