Excerpt – The Cake Babe

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An Excerpt From: THE CAKE BABE

Excerpt – The Cake Babe

Book One of the Hot and Henderson series

Marissa smiled. She’d been spared Sissy’s pre-nuptial wrath. In true bridezilla fashion, the woman had turned into a profanity breathing dragon and cut a swath through the ranks that afternoon. It wouldn’t have mattered if Sissy’s ire had come her direction; Marissa would have tuned her out and kept all thoughts on him. Jason. It was nice to put a name to the man behind the daydreams. The very wet daydreams.

It was one lewd image after another, some of which had Marissa appalled at her depraved train of thoughts. Ever devoted to her craft, most of those fantasies involved melted dark chocolate, a pastry brush and double sifted powdered sugar. She looked down at the royal icing she had just formed into the final perfectly shaped lily petal and relaxed her tightening fingers.

She placed it carefully with the others that had survived her total lack of concentration and unbuttoned her jacket. There was only the small bowl of butter cream icing to put away. He’s not coming. The five layers of red velvet cake were completely iced, reinforced and ready for assembly tomorrow. No hot cocoa fantasy. Then she’d attach the flowers, stack the tiers and wait for the oohs and aahs. No oohs and aahs for you.

“I. Am. Tired,” She stretched her neck with each word.

“But are you hungry?”

Marissa spun around and her jaw slacked. He was back, as promised, his hair damp, slicked back from the fine planes of his face. He had on a fresh t-shirt and jeans and the sporty scent of body wash enveloped him and he held out a paper plate.

“Have a seat.” He hooked a metal stool with his toe and pulled it out. “You look exhausted.”

That brought her out of her stupor. “Thanks,” she grimaced. “I bet you say that to all the girls.” Self consciously she re-wrapped her ponytail, walked to the island and plopped down on the tall stool.

He laughed. “Yeah. I do. But usually not until a lot later in the night.”

Images that had swirled all day slammed into her.

“Want a beer?” he asked, waving the two bottles he carried in his other hand.

She shook her head. He put the pizza down and slid it toward her. “Start eating, I’ll get you some wine. You want white or red?”

“White, please.” There. Her voice was back. She picked up a slice of pepperoni and took a bite while he rummaged in the industrial refrigerator. It was delicious and her stomach rumbled. He looked up and gave her a playful grin. She could barely swallow. “Should you be stealing the alcohol?”

“I don’t think anyone will miss it.” He wiggled the cork from an already opened bottle. “The chef’s a lush; he’s not going to tell anyone since he’s probably pilfering it himself.” He grabbed a plastic cup from a pantry shelf then stopped before he poured. “You want me to go to the bar, get you a real glass?”

“No, that’s fine.” Her hands weren’t too steady. She needed that wine.

He poured a generous amount. His hand brushed hers as he set it down and a jolt shot up her arm.

“What’s your name?” He pulled the other stool out from beneath the counter and twisted the cap off his beer. He took a long swallow and she watched the muscles in his throat work.

“Marissa.” She sipped the cold wine, felt its path down her throat and into the hotness of her belly.

“Nice to meet you, Marissa.” He touched the tip of his bottle to her cup.

“You, too. Jason.”

His brows rose, just a little. “You know my name.” He rolled the bottle between his fingers. “What else do you know about me?”

She chewed thoughtfully. She might be out of practice, but she knew the first steps of the game he wanted to play. Go Marissa, go Marissa! It’s your birthday! Well, not really. But boy if it was, she knew what she’d wish for.

“I know you work hard,” she looked down at his huge arms and hid a smile when his biceps jumped. She’d imagined how they would flex when his weight was propped onto them and he was rocking into her.

She finished the first piece of pizza and moved onto the second—four cheese, her favorite. Forget about the calories, this is refueling. In those fantasies, she needed all her strength.

“I know you like pepperoni and quattro formaggi.”

“Pretty insightful,” he smiled, taking another sip of beer, handing her a paper napkin and taping the corner of his mouth.

Marissa licked away a bit of sauce with the tip of her tongue, ignoring the napkin, but not the way his smile faltered. She could be brazen. That’s what the girls would tell her to do. She took a final bite, pulled the cheese away from the crust and wrapped her tongue around the long, gooey string repeatedly until she worked her way back to the crust. She bit the cheese free. He quickly drained the beer and stood up.

“I know,” she said, looking at him over the rim of the cup, “you’re probably going to kiss me sometime within the next ten seconds.”

“Well, see,” he moved behind her stool and bent down next to her ear. His warm breath tickled her neck. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

She felt his hands grab the edge of the stool, his thumbs brushing her hips a second before he pulled her back from the counter. The sound of metal against the floor startled her and her heart began a quickening pace.

His warm fingers reached beneath the collar of her jacket and slowly pulled the garment down her arms. He tossed it on the counter and then his hands were on her shoulders, scorching her flesh.

She knew he could feel her pulse thrumming. One long finger trailed a path up and down the side of her neck. The stroking felt so good, she arched back.

“Oh no you don’t.” He ran his hands halfway down her spine, applying pressure on the way back up. “Relax your body, lean forward.” He circled around her shoulders before running just his fingertips down her arms. He grasped her elbows and moved them outward then retraced his path and pressed her torso forward firmly.

“What you don’t know is I’m one of the best stress relievers in the tri-state.”

Oh, baaaby! She rested her forehead on her hands while his thumbs worked methodically around her top vertebrae then slowly moved lower. He worked his way up and down her spine for what seemed like hours.

“Aren’t your hands getting tired?” Her voice muffled against the countertop and she hoped she wasn’t drooling.

“I work with them all day. They’re pretty strong.”

“Mmmmm.” Her bones felt like warm molasses.

He moved across her shoulder blades, worked up and down her ribs, stretching his hands wide. He stopped a third of the way down and simply rubbed his thumbs back and forth and she couldn’t help but moan. With each swipe he moved his hands closer to her sides.

He leaned forward and nuzzled her, his hands never stopping. He placed his lips against the exposed column of her neck. She wanted that coolness against her heated skin. I’m gonna take control again in just. One. Second. Her breasts began aching, swelling beneath the fabric of her tank. His hands were too far away. She wanted them on her.

She squirmed on the seat, clenched her fingers. She felt his lips open and stretch across her skin. He nipped her neck as his hands moved forward to cup her breasts. His tongue swirled against the skin he held between his teeth. He sucked gently as his thumbs brushed her nipples. The sensation brought her up and off the seat, her hands splaying flat against the counter.

“Oh god,” she moaned.

“You got that right,” he whispered against her neck as his hands left her breasts and skittered downward across her flat belly, coming to rest on the waistband of her pants. He shifted and she felt his hardness press into her.

“I’ve been praying all morning and afternoon for this.” His fingers worked on the drawstring and if Marissa thought her legs alone might hold her up she would have helped him. He was draped over her back, his power unmistakable. “It’s not fair that a man has to dream about what’s under these oversized clothes you cake babes wear.”

“Cake babes?” Marissa gasped through the lust that assailed every inch of her body. His fingers worked the ties loose and snaked their way over her bare stomach, around her navel and downward, barely slipping under the edge of her panties.

“I didn’t know your name. I had to call you something when I was in the stall, eyes shut, pumping off like there was no tomorrow.”

Him fondling himself while he thought of her hadn’t been one of her fantasies. The thought caused a tiny ripple and her juices dripped.

“Mmmm, cotton. Are they white, too?” His fingers rubbed the fabric slowly. The tip of his thumb brushed the top of her curls. She nodded her head and he groaned. “Nothin’ hotter.”

He pulled one hand from under the thin material and moved it down to cup her mound. “No, this is hotter and so damp.”

Marissa couldn’t stand it. She ground against him and whimpered. It had been too long. So, so long.

“Shhh,” he said against her hair, moving his hand slowly, fingers just missing her swollen clit. “Easy, babe.”

She spun around in his arms and pressed herself against the length of his rock hard body. She rose up on her toes, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and stared boldly into his eyes. She saw desire reflecting back.

“I don’t want to take it easy,” she said, pressing against the firm bulge of denim that proved he was definitely as wanting as she was.

“Do you always get what you want?” His hands rested lightly on her ass.

Grab it. Press me closer. “Rarely. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten anything,” she admitted, pulling herself higher. That revelation was rewarded with a purely masculine smile that made her catch her breath.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. “Then let’s see if we can’t remedy that.”