Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rich
The warmth of Chloe’s kitchen envelops me. I love being a firefighter, but on the days where the calls are plentiful, or the damage is devastating, I need the reprieve of her goodness. I shut the alley door and watch her. She shifts from one foot to the other as she transfers a pan of cupcakes onto a tray.
“You smell clean.” She glances over her shoulder and turns to face me. “Is everything okay?”
“It is now.” I walk toward her as she wipes her hands on a towel.
She doesn’t say anything as I embrace her and meld our bodies together. I need this woman more than she’ll ever need me. I inhale the scent of her perfume. It’s light and airy combined with the overwhelming smell of sugar and vanilla. She’s the light at the end of the darkness.
As her hands run through my still damp hair, she leans back and stares into my eyes. “Bad fire? ”
“Not the worst, but a young couple lost their home and everything in it. Their kids are four and six, and they were frightened and crying hysterically. It’s hard to watch.”
At first, we were too busy dousing the fire to register what was going on around us. But at the end, the truth is always there to smack us in the face. We might save some buildings and homes. We hopefully save people’s lives. But… people’s worlds are always rocked. Their sense of security and peace has been violated.
She cups my face and strokes the stubble. “Thank you for doing what you do. I know it’s rough.” The corner of her mouth raises. “The next time I complain because the edge of a cupcake gets caught in the corner of pan, and it gets ripped off, tell me to get my priorities straight.”
“As long as I’m your priority, I’ll be sure to remind you.”
“Absolutely.” She arches upward on her tiptoes and places her lips against mine.
Slowly, the grunge from the day is shoved aside and the only thing remaining is Chloe. “What do you have left to do? ”
“I need to make another batch of cupcakes. One of the staff is coming in before opening to frost the last ones, so I can go home after that. If you want, you can go home, and I’ll be there in an hour and a half.”
“Why don’t you show me how to bake cupcakes?”
She cocks her head sideways. “You want me to teach you how to bake cupcakes?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” And I sure don’t want to go home–alone–waiting for her to show up. I’d rather sit in the corner like a kid in a time out than leave her.
“Well….” She grins. “Let’s do this. Go wash up and get back over here.” The excitement in her eyes makes me regret not doing this sooner.
After I’m properly sanitized, I return to the counter where she hands me a pink bowl and spoon. “Here are your utensils.”
“Okay.” I stare at them and sit the bowl down. “What do I do with this?” I swing the pink spoon in my hand. The girl has an obsession with pink, white, and yellow .
She waggles her eyebrows. “You stir with it.”
“Perfect.” I roll my eyes at her teasing.
“I’m kidding.” She grabs another small bowl, this one is yellow, and pours flour into it. “You need two cups of flour.” She transfers it to the bigger bowl. “You stir. I’ll tell you what comes next and add the ingredients.”
“You got it, Sugar.” I had different plans for the evening, but this is better. The bakery will always be my favorite place.
We work side by side as she tells me the different amounts and pours each ingredient into the mixture. She doesn’t use one measuring cup or spoon to divvy out the proper amounts. Clearly, she could bake cupcakes with her eyes closed. “How am I doing?”
“Good.” She grabs my hand and shows me how to fold the batter into itself. The closeness of her breasts brushing against my bicep makes the hairs on my arm raise. Lord, who knew cooking could be so erotic?
“Thank you.” My voice is rougher than I expected it to be, causing her to shiver .
Two minutes later, I have a smooth yellow goo in the bowl and not a smidge of dried ingredients stuck to the bottom. I’m feeling pretty good about myself at this point. I lift a spoonful into the air above the bowl and let it drain back down into the remaining batter.
“Good?” I look over at her, and her eyes are glued to my forearms. When she glances up, the heat in her eyes makes my knees weak. Obviously, I’m not the only one turned on by cooking. Heat floods over me.
“Yes.” She clears her throat. “You’re doing great.”
“Is it ready?”
“It’s perfect.” She shoves the bowl out of the way. “But now we need to let it set.”
“We do?” I frown. I’ve never seen her let the batter sit.
“Yes, we do.” She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls my lips to hers. “Watching you bake is hot.”
“Thank you.” I smash my mouth against hers. To hell with the cupcakes. If we ruin them, we can make more. I use my arm to swipe everything out of the way. When the glass bowls slap together, she cringes but doesn’t stop running her hands through my hair.
I taste the seam of her lips and she greedily opens for me, allowing my tongue to dive inside and dance with hers.
As much as I needed the warmth of her kitchen, I need to be surrounded by her more. I lift her off the floor and onto the counter. When she’s perched on the hard surface, I push her skirt up to her thighs and step between her legs. “I’ve missed you today,” I growl and run my lips along the column of her neck.
“Yeah, me, too.”
When I headed to work, she was still asleep. She grabs my t-shirt and yanks the fabric from my jeans. When her hands skate over my abs, I hiss, and need grows deeper inside of me. It’s like the fires that I fight. Greedy and all-consuming.
In less benevolent hands, she’d destroy me. Yet, she’s the person who puts me all together. Her hands grasp my belt buckle and weaves the leather from the clasp .
“Not so fast, Baby.” I dig my hand into my pocket and empty the contents onto the counter. I don’t need anything weighing me down.
“Yes, so fast,” she pants and unfastens my jeans, grasping my erection against her dainty palm. “I need to touch you. Watching you in my kitchen made my panties soaked.” She smirks. “If I would have had any on.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?” I raise the skirt the rest of the way to her waist. Beautiful, sweet curves. “Damn you.” I yank her forward, making her hand fall from my cock. She grasps the counter to keep from falling to the floor. “I need to taste your sweet honey.”
I bend down, grab her ass, and lick her seam, tasting and feasting on her flesh. She mews and shoves her pelvis toward me as desperate for my touch as I am to devour her. I suck her clit into my mouth and latch onto the sensitive nerves.
“Oh, my God. Please. Please, don’t stop.”
Wouldn’t dream of it. I keep the words in my head because if I stop, she’ll smack me upside the head. I bathe my tongue in her juices, relishing the flood of moisture that shouts her approval of my actions.
As I tongue fuck her, she whimpers and slips her legs over my biceps. Not enough. I remove one hand from under her and skate my fingers along the interior of her leg, causing her to jump. “That’s it, Baby. You’re so hot and ready for me.”
“Please.” Her eyes burn as the stare down at me. I pull up to a standing position and lunge two fingers into her tight sex while never breaking her gaze. “I love this pussy. I could eat you out and finger fuck you for a living.”
“God.” Her breathing quickens as her mouth drops open. Moan after moan fills the room as I take her higher. “Please, don’t stop.”
I waggle my eyebrows and remove my fingers from her sex.
“What?” She glares.
“I want to see your gorgeous ass as I fuck you.” Her eyes glow as the irritation disappears. I pull her down from the counter and trail my tongue along her jawline as I crack open the box on the counter. “Baby, close your eyes. And turn around.”
“Okay.” She doesn’t question me as she follows my command.
I lift her skirt out of the way and grasp my cock–slowly running my hand over my length. Not to get harder, but to sate the need. If I dive into her without taking the edge off, I’m going to come and leave her disappointed. And I don’t disappoint my girl. “Are you ready, Sugar?”
“Yes.” Her hands clutch the edge of the counter as I enter and fill her sex.
“Keep your eyes closed.”
“Okay?”
I don’t answer the question as I drill into her. With each lunge of my hips, she gasps and braces against the island. While I continue to pound into her, I use one hand to move a vanilla cupcake with light purple frosting in front of her and finish the decoration.
I’m tempted to lick the frosting off my finger myself, but I make the ultimate sacrifice and place it in front of her mouth. “Suck my finger. ”
Her mouth opens, and she groans as she sucks the sweet sugar from my index finger. “Oh…. God…. Yessss. Please, don’t stop.” The quick inhalation of her breath lets me know how close she is to coming. “Harder.”
“That’s enough.” I remove my finger from her mouth, grasp her hip with one hand and reach around her with the other.
The second I rub her clit, she moans, “Oh, my God. I’m coming.”
“That’s it, Baby.” I pound into her as she convulses against me. “Such a tight fucking pussy.” The first wave of orgasm rockets through my thighs and balls. “Open your eyes.”
“Rich!”
When she gasps, my cock jerks as spurts of semen shoots out of me. She grabs the cupcake and yanks the ring out of the frosting. “Oh, my God.”
I jerk out from inside of her before she spins around and breaks my dick off. She spins around. Thank God I moved fast enough .
“Oh, my God.” Tears fill her eyes as she grabs my face and smashes her mouth against mine. Sugar and Chloe. Nothing compares.
I pull back and take the ring from her fingers. “Chloe Sparks, will you marry me?”
“Yes.” She shoves her hand under my nose and wiggles her fingers. “Yes, Rich Anderson, I would love to marry you.”
Once the ring and any leftover frosting is secure to her finger, I study her. “Long or short engagement?”
“Short. As soon as Jenna moves back to town. I don’t want you getting away from me.”
“Baby, I’m not going anywhere, but if worrying about that gets me married to you sooner, worry all you want.” Betting on Chloe was the best decision I ever made.