Page 59 of Cupcake of the Month
Josh raised an eyebrow. “That amuses you?”
“I’m just wondering why you’re all talk and no action.”
He yanked down his briefs, but she got only a glimpse of him before he kissed her again, guiding them both until she was on the mattress.
He slid on beside her, the long, lean length of his body covering hers.
Then his finger was inside her, swirling through her folds and she cried out, spreading her legs to give him better access.
“You are so fucking wet.” He drew in a ragged breath. “So ready for me.”
Her muscles tightened and she rocked against him, eager for more than his finger. He flicked this thumb against her clit once, twice, and withdrew.
Her body cried in protest even as he covered himself with a condom. Soon the tip of his penis nudged against her. She arched upward, eager and greedy for all of him.
He guided his length into her, slowly, torturously, inch by inch, his hand splayed on her stomach a silent demand that she stay still. She trembled, panting and moaning, until she could bear it no more and wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled, a primal, animal need to have all of him.
Then he thrust, filling her.
She groaned as he pounded into her, letting him control their passion. Her nipples tingled and ached to be touched. He was right about not being gentle and she welcomed each hard thrust. Heady sensations awakened within her, ones she had thought were once in a lifetime. Gasps and pants escaped her mouth. He pounded harder with each one.
He squeezed her breast, then massaged it, the contact an extra dimension of feeling. His cock flexed inside her and she tightened her muscles around him, meeting each stroke with her own desperation.
His hand was back in her hair, tangling around her loose locks. His teeth grazed her neck, taking the time to nip and suck and lick her sensitive skin. A finger trailed down her neck to her breast, dipping lower, lower, lower, until he found her core and spiked a flash of electricity through her blood.
“Say my name,” he growled, his voice vibrating against her skin. “Say it.”
“Josh,” she panted. “Josh. Oh, God. Please.”
He increased the pressure of his fingers, swirling and rubbing and stroking until need ran wild within her. She bucked and cried out, her movements more instinct than thought as her muscles tightened and she rocked uncontrollably against him with the force of her orgasm, held in place by his strong arms. A few hard strokes later, his groan filled the small room as he thrust, bracing his weight on his hand, his breath hot against her skin as he shuddered his release.
Jordan closed her eyes and breathed deep, filling her senses with him. “God damn, Josh.”
He chuffed out a laugh, still plastered to her. “That’s good, right?”
“Better than good.”
She felt his nod on her chest. His body shifted as he snuggled against her. She was glad he didn’t leave immediately to clean up, the warmth staying between them.
She dozed for a bit, awakened when he placed a quick kiss on her shoulder. Cool air surrounded her as he stood up. “Be right back.”
Drifting to her side took all her energy. It was enough to lie down on half the tiny bed. Being with him before had been good, but now…now was incredible.
Chapter 11
The last time Josh had broken shells in his eggs, he had been ten years old and trying to make breakfast for Mother’s Day. It was fine back then. Cute, even. Now it made him late. Breakfast should have been ready ten minutes ago.
He used his finger to scoop the shells out of the bowl, then finished cracking the eggs and washed his hands. He grabbed the whisk, whipping the food into such a frenzy that he could have made a custard with a few more ingredients. All the words and emotions and brutal honesty to confess to Jordan about the past eight years went into scrambling that yolk.
He wanted to tell her everything, but the words had clogged his chest. She deserved the truth. He pushed back the brim of his beat-up University of Georgia cap and peered at the eggs, making sure he hadn’t left behind any shells.
“Are they ready yet?” Wendy folded her arms across her chest, one eyebrow raised slightly.
He hated to disappoint her and her hungry clientele. Even though it was a temp job, being part of the family meant something. “Almost.” Not really. He flipped the waffles onto a platter and handed it to her. She hustled them out to the dining room and the serving trays.
Leaving Jordan that morning had taken all of his effort. They had slept with their arms and legs entwined within the confines of the twin bed, trading kisses and caresses when their muscles had become languid from their lovemaking. The soft touch of her fingers against his skin had rocked him to his core, made him desperate for her. For the comfort and excitement and life she had given him.
And then he cracked shells into the eggs.
