Page 64 of Merry Little Sugar Rush
Joy giggles and moves to her workstation after washing her hands. “Well, they won’t be ready until tomorrow morning, but I will save you one.”
“Better make it two,” I tell her, retrieving the stool and moving it toward where she works. “I can already tell I’m going to love them.”
Shaking her head, she pulls out the recipe she’s looking for and gets to work.
“Can I help?”
She looks up at me and grins. “Of course. Just make sure you finish up with the same number of fingers you started with.”
Barking out a laugh, I move to the sink and scrub my hands with soap and water. Once they’re dry, I stand beside her. “What should I do?”
Under her direction, I help make dough for tomorrow’s pastries, and together, we follow that up with preparing the frosting. It smells amazing. I’ve always loved eggnog, even though I haven’t had it in years prior to coming back toSnowflake Falls. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve had it since I left here all those years ago. It was a part of the holiday season, a tradition for everyone in town. When I left, the holidays had an entirely different look and feel, and I just don’t remember having eggnog after we relocated.
Once it’s ready to go, I remove the bowl from the big industrial mixer and offer the baker a grin. “I think it’s good.”
She nods and swipes her finger across the paddle attachment and slips it inside her mouth. “Oh my God, it’s perfect.”
I gape at her. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that? But I was trying to be all sanitary and shit.”
Joy giggles and shrugs her shoulders. “It’s not like I just stuck my finger inside the bowl of frosting. The paddle will be cleaned next, so since it’s not going to be used again, it’s fine for a little sample.”
Without asking for permission, I do exactly what she did. Only I don’t take a tiny little sample. I slide my entire finger along the length of the paddle, gathering as much frosting as I can. The moment the sweetness hits my tongue, I moan in pleasure. “Damn, Joy. That’s delicious.”
“It is, isn’t it.” It’s not a question, but a statement.
She quickly transfers the frosting to an airtight container and places it in the refrigerator. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll have to let it return to room temperature and rewhip it, but the flavors will be even stronger thanks to leaving it to rest overnight.”
“I’m gonna need one of those cupcakes with my honey buns,” I tell her, taking another small swipe of frosting off the paddle.
“You’re gonna have a sugar rush,” she tells me, walking over to retrieve the bowl from where I stand.
As she grabs for it, I stop her. An idea forms in my head. “Leave it.”
“For?” she asks, her cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink. We’re standing very close together, and all I want to do is take her in my arms and have my wicked way with her.
“Dessert.”
One eyebrow shoots upward in question.
“You, Easy-Bake,” I reply, sliding my frosting-covered finger down her neck. I follow it with a long swipe of my tongue. The mixture of frosting and the taste of her skin sends all my blood south of my belt. “You’re my dessert.”
I’m about to put the frosting remnants to good use.
SEVENTEEN
Joy
A shiver sweepsdown my spine as he lazily drags his thumb across my lips. “What needs to be put away now?”
I glance at the workstation, even though I already know the answer. “Nothing.” The dough is put in the refrigerator, and the rest of the dry ingredients are covered and can stay where they are. I always put refrigerated items away after using them, so I don’t accidentally leave something out longer than I should, and even though I prefer to put everything away and clean, I have to admit, the temptation of leaving it until later is damn strong.
Burk is that temptation.
Lifting me up, I’m suddenly against his chest, my legs wrapped around his lower back. He gives me a cheeky grin and grabs the mixing bowl with his free hand. The other grips my ass, holding me tightly against him as he moves. “Everything’s locked up down here, right?”
“It is,” I state, giggling as he practically runs up the stairs to my apartment. It can’t be easy, carrying me and the bowl and trying not to drop either, but he does it flawlessly.
Once we’re inside my apartment, he carefully sets me down and turns, pinning me against the door. His eyes are pure fire, blazing with desire and need, and all I want to do is bathe in them. The bowl is set on the counter beside where we stand, and he reaches inside and uses his finger to scoop up more of the sweet icing.
