53. Bonus Steamy Scene
Sprinkle Dick
Chairs screech along the tile floor as the kids in my baking class finish decorating their sugar cookies. Globs of teal and lavender royal icing cover their tables, and I’m surprised that any made it onto their cookies by the amount still inside the piping bags lying on the floor.
“What are we baking next week, Ms. Tilly?” Lori, one of my youngest bakers, asks.
A thrill of appreciation rushes through me at the excitement on her face. Wide eyes, a grin that ends in two dimples, and flour-dusted hair. It’s like staring at a younger version of myself.
I crouch down and boop her on the nose. “How about you pick next week’s dessert?”
“Really?” Her face lights up. “Can we make those fig and feta cookies you told us about?”
Fig and feta cookies? Should she grow up to become a baker, the palate on this little girl is sure to take the world by storm.
“Sounds like a plan to me.” I help her box up the cookies into a small Valentine’s Day tin the kids decorated for their parents. “Make sure you give these to your mommy tomorrow morning to eat with some coffee. Okay, pumpkin?”
She hugs me before running off to her mom who stands by the door with open arms. I repeat the same exact spiel to each kid as I send them off, and breath a sigh of relief when I can finally close the shop for the night. Adding a kids baking class after a full morning of customers trickling in from the weekend farmer’s market was probably not my best idea, but it’s the only evening Shantel can watch the kids so Archer and I can go out on a date.
I glance at the clock to see how much time I have before I need to meet Archer. An hour to clean the dried icing caked to the tables and fifteen minutes to ice the cupcakes for Jessie’s class party. I can totally make that happen.
Forty minutes pass in a cleaning haze as my favorite HER songs play in the background. I can’t help but sway to the smooth beats as I slip into the back to whip up the rosewater butter cream frosting for the lemon coconut cupcakes. The whir of the mixer is like a noise machine lulling me to sleep, and I press my palms against the stainless-steel table, stretching my neck with a groan.
“Make that noise again.” Archer’s deep voice brings goosebumps to my skin.
The sound of the mixer must’ve muffled the ding of the bell above the door. My sandals squeak as I spin around and take in the handsome man who snuck into my bakery. Archer’s dressed in a tight black henley and dark washed jeans, his beard trimmed short and neat though his hair is longer, curling around his ears. His skin is a golden tan from being outside, and his grin releases a thousand butterflies in my stomach.
I blow a loose tendril of hair out of my face. “You’re not supposed to be here for another twenty minutes.”
He prowls toward me, mischief glinting in his green eyes. “I missed you.”
Missed is an understatement. I ache without him. He’s been in Knoxville shooting the second season of Stud Finders on and off for the past three months, and like clockwork, we’re two ships passing in the night. Bakery hours tend to be early, so I’m gone before he wakes up, and with Valentine’s Day this week, I’ve pulled extra shifts to help the evening employees.
“I missed you too.” He steps in front of me and wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me into his soft but muscular body. “Did you bring the kids with you?”
“They’re with Nora and Shanti.” Archer skims his nose along my neck to my ear, and a moan rumbles in his chest. “You smell sweet enough to eat.”
I melt into his embrace, letting my head fall back as he peppers my collarbone with kisses. Heat rises in my core like molten lava, and all thoughts of the buttercream icing and cupcakes leave my brain when he seals his lips over mine. Strong hands slide down the backs of my thighs and lift me onto the table.
I yelp at the sudden cold beneath my butt. “Arch.”
His normally sparkling green eyes are a deep emerald, glinting with desire. He spares me one glance, and though he says not a single word, I know what he wants. His eyes could be closed, and I could still tell by the way his lips part, the rapid heartbeat beneath my palm, the way his tongue darts out to moisten his parted lips.
“Did you lock the door?” I ask.
“Of course,” he replies.
I slide my fingers into his hair and tug on the strands, drawing a growl from him. That’s all it takes for his control to snap. His hand is warm when it wraps around my neck, pulling me to him as our mouths meet. Fire races along my skin at the gentle stroke of his tongue against mine, coaxing a moan from the back of my throat. My legs part, begging for his touch to quench the thirst in me.
I mewl as he presses his thumb against my center and draws small circles on my clit with varying pressure, building me up just to slow his rhythm right before I go over the edge.
“Fuck, I missed this,” he says between kisses, greedily stealing any chance I have to answer as he sucks my bottom lip and releases it with a nip. “Take everything off but the apron.”
A laugh bubbles up inside me. “What?”
He steps back, pupils blown with desire. “You heard me.”
My nipples perk up at the raspy tone to his voice, and a flood of anticipation pours into my core. It’s been so long since we’ve had a moment to just focus on each other, to bask in the other’s warmth. With trembling hands, I undo the buttons on my pants and slide them down my legs, watching as his gaze tracks the movement. It’s hungry, ravenous even.
He unties the knot at my neck, letting the front of the apron fall to my waist as he lifts my blouse over my head. My control unspools as he litters my chest with kisses, fumbling with the clasp on the back. Frustrated, he pulls the cup down and takes my nipple into his mouth, softly tugging on the brown bud with his teeth.
“More,” I beg, throwing my head back and running my hand through his hair. He responds by cupping my other breast and rolling the nipple between his fingers. “Yes, daddy.”
The words I’ve realized he loves hearing slips through my lips, igniting a fire in him. My bra snaps off, surely broken by the force with which he rips it from my body.
“Darlin, I love it when you call me daddy.” He reties the apron around my neck, stealing kisses as he finishes the knot. “Bend over the table.”
The cool air brings goosebumps to my skin, but Archer’s heated gaze as it roams my body makes me desperate to feel him against me. I slide off the table just as he walks over to the mixer and turns it off. In my husband induced haze, I forgot I was working on the buttercream.
“You’ll have to remake this icing,” he says, dipping his finger into it and bringing it to his lips. The act shouldn’t be a sensual one, but the way his lips close around the finger, sucking the icing off, makes my thighs clench together.
“Why? Is it bad? Overworked?” I swallow down the lust, worried I messed up the rosewater to cream cheese ratio.
He shakes his head. “I’ve got other plans for this icing. Now, do me a favor and bend over that table and spread your legs, baby.”
I bite down on my lip, trying to stifle the moan that rips from my throat as my pussy quivers at his command. Dominant Archer came out to play. A quick glance at the clock reveals we’re going to miss our dinner reservation, but one look at Archer shows me he has an entirely different idea of sustenance on his mind. He presses me down against the table, the round edge meeting my thighs, and a flush works its way up my chest.
“Have I told you today how absolutely beautiful you are?” he says, caressing my spine.
“Mmhmm.” I sigh, relishing in his touch as my breasts swell.
Soft hands glide down my sides, landing on my waist. “You have the most beautiful ass, sweetheart.”
I brace for what I know is coming, what I’m secretly begging for. The spank doesn’t come, and I can’t help the whimper I release. His dark chuckle behind me has me thrusting this most beautiful ass back into his waiting hands.
“Don’t tease me,” I say, glaring at him over my shoulder.
He stares at me as he undoes his belt with one hand, sliding the leather material through the loops with ease then kicks off his boots and pants to lay in a pile beside my clothes. His thick erection presses against his tight blue briefs, outlining his girth and making my mouth water. It’s been too long since we’ve had each other.
“Hands on the table, darlin.” Archer’s boot taps my foot, spreading me wider and baring myself to him. “And don’t move them until I say so.”
I acquiesce, curling my hands around the other side.
“Good girl.”
My back arches, skin pebbling with the praise. Archer drops to his knees behind me, and as much as I want to know what he’s doing, the anticipation makes me wetter as each moment passes.
Nothing happens, and I fight the urge to turn around. He’s like a cat taunting a mouse, waiting for the moment I feel safe to pounce. Every sense heightens. The sweet aroma of flowers in the air, the hum of the walk-in freezer, the chilly metal beneath me. My skin flames knowing he’s cataloging every inch of my body, committing it to memory.
Firm hands spread me, and the first touch of his fingers on my clit drives me onto my tip-toes. I shiver as he spreads the icing over me, swirling it around my clit then bringing it all the way up my rear.
“Wait here,” he says, leaving me basically tarred and feathered with butter cream dripping down my legs. He returns a moment later, and I can’t help the smile that skirts my face when I see what he brought with him. “My favorite topping.”
“That better be the opened container and not one of my new ones, Archibald.”
He smirks and pops the lid, shaking sprinkles all over my ass before putting some in his hand. Back on his knees, he cups my pussy, pressing the sprinkles into the icing.
“I’ve been waiting for this dessert all evening.”
My legs tremble around his head as his tongue finally touches my clit. Sparks shoot off in my core as he switches between nips and licks, sucking my clit into his mouth then pushing his tongue into me.
“Yes, daddy,” I whisper when he adds his fingers.
His tongue is wicked, driving into me and swirling, stealing all the icing for himself. He crooks his fingers, curling them and hitting my G spot. His beard tickles my thighs, and my legs slam shut, clamping his head between them as I chase that feeling of ecstasy. Thick fingers sink into me again and again, coaxing me toward that supernova. I focus on that just out of reach orgasm, waiting for me to relax and take it. I explode when he lightly bites my clit, twisting his fingers along with clench of my inner walls.
I pant and suck in small breaths, hoping my trembling legs don’t give out. My hands ache with how tightly they’re wrapped around the edge of the table, but when I go to move, Archer lays his other hand on my back and says, “I’m not finished yet.”
I open my mouth to respond, but only an “Oh, fuck,” comes out when he spreads me and licks from my clit to my ass, driving his finger back into me and curling it the opposite way. The sensation against my perineum along with his tongue whips me into a heated frenzy, thrusting my ass back into his face for more pressure. Another orgasm hangs just out of reach, and I frustratedly huff.
“My darlin’ wants more?” Archer says with a deep chuckle.
All I can do is nod.
It’s a damn good thing I married someone good with his hands because immediately I feel blissful pressure where he’s slowly working his finger past the tight ring of muscles while his other hand still works my pussy.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I chant, moaning at the stir of his fingers inside me.
“One more, baby. Give me one more.”
My orgasm sweeps through me with the force of a tsunami, pulling me back from the edge just to send me barreling toward the precipice of euphoria. Shivers wreak havoc on my system as I come down from the high, and Archer slowly works himself out of me and bands his arm around my waist to keep me upright.
“You okay?” he asks, peppering my back with kisses.
I let my head fall onto his shoulder and tilt my head to connect our mouths. “I’m perfect.”
My body is a live wire, still sparking at his every touch as he glides his hands down my side.
“Let me clean you up,” he says.
I turn in his hold, pressing my hand against his chest. “I have a better idea.”
He arches a playful brow my way, and I sink to my knees in front of him. Hunger flares in his eyes as I remove his underwear over the muscular globes of his ass, and his sharp intake of breath when he watches me steal the icing mixed with my release and slather it onto his waiting cock, makes me bite down on my lip.
The table creaks beneath his weight when he braces himself on it. I inch closer, and his erection bobs, the thick velvet steel beaded with precum. He moans loudly at the first touch of my tongue, gathering the salty sweet treat. Goosebumps appear on his strong thighs when I rake my nails across them and squeeze to hold myself steady.
“How do we taste, baby?”
The sweet floral taste of the icing is the first thing I notice when I finally take him into my mouth, rolling my tongue along the long vein on the bottom of his shaft as I draw my cheeks in and suck. His hand slams against the table, and he curses something unintelligible.
“Perfect.” I stroke his base in time with my mouth, coming up just enough he nearly slips out.
“I love you,” he says, wrapping his hand around my ponytail. “But I need you to take this sprinkle-covered dick as far as you can because I’m one thrust away from throwing you onto this table and breaking all kinds of OSHA laws.”
“What if I want both?” I taunt, taking him deep. His cock swells against the back of my throat, and my center flutters.
“Fuck,” he rasps. He lifts me off the ground and lays me out on the table so quick I almost catch a wave of vertigo.
My legs spread without thought, welcoming him back home. Nothing about this entire moment is sanitary, but the way our bodies connect is exquisite.
“I love you too,” I whimper into his mouth as his first thrust shakes the table. Our bodies are slick with sweat and chilled by the air, but I’m a ball of heat ready to explode. He snaps his hips faster, grunting as my inner walls constrict around him. My focus is hazy, clouded by the sheer bliss barreling up my arched spine.
“I’m close,” he says, pressing more of his weight into me. “Let me get you there.”
I tilt my head, baring my neck to him. He brackets it with his hand, squeezing lightly to stop my air supply as he continues driving me to the edge of the cliff. I sip in a breath of Archer’s intoxicating bergamot scent, letting the juxtaposition of not having enough air and being flooded with so many sensations to take me under. Stars dance behind my eyes, and fireworks shoot off as I come undone beneath him. Archer thrusts twice more then stills, unloading himself into me.
We’re a tangle of limbs and stolen breaths between kisses as he helps me sit up. He glances down at where we were just connected, watching his release leak out of me. His head shakes and he frowns as if he doesn’t like the sight.
“There’s a no waste policy in this establishment,” he says, scooping up the come and pushing it back inside me with a grin.
I smack my hand playfully against his chest, and he grabs it and places a kiss into my palm.
“Don’t move,” he orders, backing away from me and to the triple sink.
He returns a moment later with a warm towel, and like the amazing man he is, he cleans us both off and helps me back into my pants. My legs are jelly, but a content sigh leaves my lips when Archer wraps his arms around me. I can’t believe I ever thought I could live without this, without him. I pull back a moment, staring up at the man who made all my dreams come true and say, “You still cake my breath away.”