Page 9 of Naughty & Nice

Sex with Ashley had met my needs. She was beautiful, and I knew I was a lucky bastard to have her in my bed. But there was nothing particularly erotic about sleeping with her. It was pretty one-dimensional. After we moved in together, she never initiated sex. She was merely a willing participant. There wasn’t the electricity I imagine with Addison. That girl is sex on legs.

I have an overwhelming desire to dominate this sassy creature and teach her a lesson for her feisty behavior. Spank that luscious ass until it was burning bright pink from my hand. See her on her knees for me. Jesus, I’m going to ignite in this suit if I don’t get these thoughts out of my head.

I should have gotten laid back home in Hanover before coming to this mountain town. I’m sure I’m just horny as hell. I should’ve tried a little harder to get some ass in preparation for a dry spell. I don’t need a hook-up with Addison Briggs to be my next brush fire.

“Dave, I think I’m ready to tap out for a bit.”

“Come on out. I’ll send Matt in to take over.”

Reaching the ladder truck, shining bright red under the scorching heat of the sun, I pull off my helmet and unzip my turnout gear. The wind against my sweaty shirt and skin offers mild relief. Pouring a cup of water onto my face, I reach back over to refill it and drink several more to lower my body heat. The weather is mild today. I’m sure my current condition is a combination of continued exposure to the brush fire, my uniform, and Addison.

“Hey, we’re heading to Pour Decisions on Friday. You in? Just a dive bar in town. It’s the main hangout in Sycamore. This place is more casual than the Cellar Bar.”

Hell. This could be just the ticket. Hopefully, I can score and get thoughts of this off-limits girl out of my head. There has got to be one woman under the age of fifty there I could bring home. Okay, under sixty.

CHAPTER8

Addy

Thank god it’s Friday.The number of birthday cakes and cupcakes needed this week for such a small town has surprised me. I’m exhausted.

This week, I got a little lift in my spirits when Alden shared how he got an order for cupcakes asking me to decorate them for a bachelorette party. Apparently, word has gotten out about my confections. He’s having to drive them an hour away. Oh, what I’d give to make this my very own business. But there are too many obstacles. I’ve got a perfectly good gig going here with Alden at Honey Bunz. There’s no sense striking out on my own just to have to come crawling back begging to return if it fails. And I have no doubt it would, given my limitations.

I carefully place the candy penis pointed straight up in the center of the cupcake. They’re bite-sized hard candy meant for sucking. I can’t help but chuckle.

“Good lord, Addy. Those are ridiculous.” Alden chuffs.

“Yeah, I think these girls are paying for ridiculous.” I giggle. Our reverie is interrupted by the sound of the bell chiming as the front door swings open. My skin grows cold, and my stomach drops as the familiar well-dressed woman approaches. Sliding the X-rated baked goods out of sight behind a large white bakery box, I look up as she bypasses Alden’s greeting without a glance and stands before me.

“Addison?”

“Hi, Mom.” I quickly come around the counter to try to act like a dutiful daughter and give her an uncomfortable hug.

“I figured when you wouldn’t return my calls, I’d have to drive to Sycamore to see you in person. My time is valuable. You could’ve saved me the trouble by calling me back.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve just been so busy I forgot to get back to you.” It’s a lie, and we both know it. Our relationship has been strained for years. Try as I might, I can’t be who she wants me to be, and her repeated lectures on how I’m wasting my life had me running for the hills. Literally.

“Your brother is graduating MIT, and we’re having a big celebration. I need to ensure you’ll be there to congratulate him.” Looking about the small bakery with distaste, she returns her pointed stare to me. “I hope you can fit us into your busy schedule.”For fuck’s sake.

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry you came all of this way. I’m proud of Bradley. Just getting into MIT is impressive. Much less to graduate with honors.” The engineering school is widely accepted as a prestigious academy that accepts only the brightest applicants. Clearly, a trajectory I’m not on.

“Addison, if you had applied yourself, you could be attending a similar institution.”

“Mom.” I huff. Lowering my voice, I respond before I can get control of my tongue. “You know that isn’t possible. You and Dad are two of the smartest people I know. I’m sure your students at Duke are lucky to have you. And Dad’s accomplishments in research there are nothing short of incredible. I’m in awe of both of you. And Brad. It’s no fault of yours that I’m not cut out to be an academic. But I’ve accepted God has a different plan for me.”

“Addison Briggs, if you’d only tried harder, you could’ve achieved the same things. You wouldn’t even give the tutors we hired a chance. You can label yourself as the creative type all you like, but I think it’s another word for lazy.”

“Mom!” My voice reverberates about the small space. “Dyslexia isn’t an excuse to be lazy. I try hard every single day. Even ordinary tasks like returning a text can be difficult. I’m sorry you can’t see that. Your tutor didn’t understand the complexities of the disorder. So her assistance wasn’t helpful. I’m making a life for myself despite my disorder. Please try to be happy for me. I know it’s not what you would choose, but I’m making the best of my circumstances, and I’m doing well.”

“You can’t possibly make any real money doing this,” she states emphatically, looking through the glass at the assorted sweets on display. I instinctively move closer to the erotic cupcakes ensuring I block her view.

“At least you aren’t modeling any longer.”

“Um, I actually have a big shoot coming up soon. You might see it, as it’s with a large fashion house. They’ve offered to fly me to Paris for an upcoming show.”

“Addison. It’s so degrading. Selling your looks in that way.”

Her statement has me feeling defensive, but I can’t correct her on this. It makes me feel the same. My heart isn’t in it. I do it because I’m good at it, and it provides seed money for the future. I’m well aware being in my upper twenties, the window of opportunity I have for modeling is quickly coming to a close. “It’s not for much longer. It’s just a good opportunity right now.” Deciding to change the subject, I say, “Can I bring the cake to Bradley’s celebration. To help?”

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