The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male
Her gaze blurred. He knew she’d had a bad day. He’d called her earlier, and though she’d tried to make light of her lack of clients, it had probably come through her voice. And all this—she stared at the mess in the kitchen. This had likely been a few hours of preparation and work.
For her. Because he wanted her to smile. Because he wanted to give her a cake to eat.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him down for a quick, scorching kiss. Her tongue licked inside his mouth, letting him know just how pleased she was.
He broke the kiss off with a small groan, then leaned in and said in a low voice, “Help me get rid of Brenna. I can’t shake her. As soon as she found out I was making you a cake, she wouldn’t go away.”
Beth Ann looked over at the other woman, who was watching them both with an amused smile. The woman acted childish at times, but Beth Ann suspected it was all very deliberate. “Hey, Brenna?”
“Hey yourself.”
“I’d really like to make love to my boyfriend right now,” she said softly, and brushed her thumb over his lips. He groaned, bit the pad of her thumb, and she gave Brenna a slow smile. “Think you can bail out on us?”
Brenna winked. “Absolutely.” She sauntered to the door, paused by a half-open bag of flour, and grabbed it. “If Grant asks, you two did not see me leave with this.”
And then she left.
Beth Ann turned to Colt, running her fingers down the front of his apron. His was immaculate. Not surprising to learn that the mess was probably 90 percent Brenna. “Are those two sleeping together?”
“Not yet,” he said, his dimple flashing. “They claim to hate each other.”
“Oh, that,” she whispered huskily, and leaned in to suck on his lower lip. When he groaned, she caressed it with her tongue, and leaned back. “I think they’re lying to themselves, then.”
“Kind of like us?”
“Very much like us,” she said softly. Her hands went to his apron and she tugged the strings at his waist undone. She tugged the apron off and tossed it to the side, her hands moving to his belt buckle.
His hands caught hers. “You want to try your cake first, darlin’?”
She shook her head and bit her lip, giving him a naughty look. “I’m kind of hungry for something else.”
Need flared in his eyes and his hands went back to brace his body against the counter. “Oh?”
She nodded, finished unbuckling his pants, and knelt before him. She tugged them down to his knees, and then tugged his briefs down. His cock rose, hard and thick already. She continued to tug his pants down, noticing the long white scar that ran along one knee. She leaned in and kissed it, because she knew he hated it. Knew that it was why he’d left the marines. He hadn’t had a choice.
But she loved it, because it had brought him here, to her.
“My scar’s not half as interesting as my cock,” he said in a husky voice.
“Mmm, agreed,” she said, lightly brushing her fingertips along the smooth length of him. “I think this would be delicious with frosting.” She reached to his side and dug her finger in the corner of the cake, then smeared the glob of frosting on the tip of his cock.
He groaned, his hand moving to the base of his cock to cup it.
“Looks delicious to me,” she said, and then reached out to lick it—and him. The frosting was sweet in her mouth, and she twirled her tongue over the head of his cock, making sure to get every bit. Even after the frosting was gone, she continued to lap and smooth her tongue over the crown, enjoying his ragged breathing and the exquisite taste of him. When a salty drop of pre-cum touched her tongue, she looked up at him. “The frosting is delicious.”
He reached behind him, and to her surprise, grabbed a bowl of frosting. With one hand on his cock, he tipped the bowl over it, and more frosting, liquid, thick and wet, smeared down the hard length. “Looks like you have a bit more to lick off.”
Beth Ann smothered her laugh, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. “A feast indeed.”
And she settled her open mouth against the head of his cock again. His hips thrust lightly, pushing the thick length deeper into her mouth, frosting smearing against her lips. “Oh, fuck me,” Colt groaned. His other hand tangled in her hair, and she felt its sticky weight against her head. “That is so damn hot.”
She rubbed her tongue against him, lapping at the frosting around his thick length. Beth Ann pulled her mouth off of him and slowly tongued down his length, lapping at the dripping, sweet mess, cleaning his shaft. He groaned in his throat with every new press of her tongue. Decadent vanilla frosting filled her mouth, the taste overpowering and rich, and, accompanying that flavor, the salty, masculine taste of Colt’s skin.
Lord have mercy, she loved the taste of him. Loved doing this to him. She moved her mouth back to the crown of his cock, lapping at the droplets of pre-cum there. Again, his hips bucked, as if he wanted her to take him deep in her mouth again. And the thought excited her, so she obeyed, opening her mouth wide.
He surged inside, filling her mouth with more of his sweet, salty flesh. She moaned at his tortured groan, and he pumped into her mouth again. And then again, pushing deeper until he butted against the back of her throat.
“Not going to last, Beth Ann,” he rasped, his fingers clenched tight in her hair.
In response, she sucked him harder, and her frosting-covered fingers went to his sac, caressing the globes there.
He exhaled sharply and began to slowly fuck her mouth again, each slow, exaggerated thrust working deep. He watched her, watched his cock disappearing between her frosting-slicked lips, and she knew the sight must have been incredibly erotic for him. She stared up at him, too, knowing that he’d love to see her gaze on him as she took him deep. And as he slid back and forth inside her mouth, faster and faster, she rubbed her tongue along his length.
He came with a burst of saltiness in the back of her throat and a harsh, ragged groan. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly full of his flavor. It cut into the sweetness, the taste sharp and erotic, and she swallowed all of it. She continued to lick at him even as he pulled out of her mouth.
“Fuck,” Colt said in a ragged voice. His hands moved to hers, dragging her up to her feet. “I should make you a cake every day.”
She stood and smiled at him, licked her lips. They still tasted sugary and delicious, and tinged ever so slightly of him. “It’s a shame you used all the frosting on yourself,” she said lightly. “I didn’t get my turn.”
His eyes lit up and he grabbed her by the waist, then turned and set her on the counter, next to the cake.
Beth Ann glanced over at it and smiled. “You’re not going to ruin my cake by smearing it all over me, are you?”
He leaned up and kissed her. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Stay right here.” He leaned down, hitched his briefs and pants back around his waist, then headed to the far side of the kitchen. She craned her neck to see what he was doing, and then began to laugh as he came back into view with a can of frosting. “Really?”
“Really,” he said, and handed her the can.
She took it, looking down at it with amusement. Chocolate this time. “I don’t get vanilla?”
“You are not vanilla in the slightest, darlin’,” he drawled, and as she watched, he carefully took her perfect cake and moved it to the far counter, away from them.
Colt returned to her side and he took the frosting can from her and set it down, then tugged at her sweater. She shucked it off, along with her bra, and when he tugged at her jeans, she helped him slide those off, too. He even took her panties, and a moment later, she was sitting atop the counter, naked except for her shoes, and shivering with anticipation.
“Lay down on the counter for me,” he said, taking the frosting in hand again.
She did. Her hair was in flour, and her arm was resting against a sticky spot on the counter, but she didn’t care. She watched him with a breathless gaze, watched his big hands on the canister of
frosting.
“Now,” he said slowly. “I am sure no one in this town thinks you are the type of girl that would lay down and let a man ice her like a cake.”
She laughed, and wiggled a little on the counter. “Is that what you’re going to do to me?”
“I am,” he said, and then pressed a kiss on the closest spot he could find—her knee. “And then I’m going to lick you clean.”
Her breath caught at that, her mind filled with images of Colt licking her, his tongue covered in frosting—and her own wetness. She moaned low in her throat.
He tore the seal off the canister and dug a thick finger into the icing. God, it was erotic just watching him with icing on his hands. She wiggled a little on the counter, pulling up her knees. Her pussy already felt slick with need.
He leaned forward and then dabbed a fingertip on the hard tip of one breast. She sucked in a breath, stared down at the chocolate dollop over the peak of one nipple. Her gaze flicked up to his face. He wasn’t smiling, his expression intense as he got another finger full of icing and very carefully outlined her breast with it, drawing a circle around it. More icing, and his thumb skimmed over the sensitive flesh of her breast, painting the entire globe with thick chocolate brown. She shivered at his touch.
Then, he turned to the other breast and began to give it the same care, covering her small breast with the chocolate frosting. When he was done, he sat back, licked his finger, and stared down at her.
She licked her lips, waited. “What do you think?”
He smiled at her, a flash of dimple that made her knees weak and her pussy even wetter. “I’m thinking it’s a shame we don’t have cherries for those little nipples of yours. Guess I’ll just make do.”
He leaned down and captured the peak of one breast in his mouth, his tongue scraping over it.
She moaned. Oh God. That felt…incredibly erotic. He leaned and suckled at the peak, cleaning it with his mouth, his hand holding his dog tags out of the way. His tongue swirled out, grazing over the flesh of her breast, carefully cleaning it off. With every stroke of his tongue, she grew wetter and hotter, her mind ultra-focused on the traveling of his tongue. It slid to the underside of her breast, traced along the valley between her breasts, lapping and rasping. He’d frequently stop back at her nipple, swirling his tongue back over it again.
By the time he moved over to her other breast and began to suck on the sweet peak, she was moaning with need. Her hands gripped at the countertop, and when he licked at the hard nipple, she pushed it farther into his mouth. Needing more. Wanting more. Loving the delicious torture. She needed him to touch her pussy, though, and he wasn’t. His fingers were still sticky with frosting. So she thrust her breast into his mouth, and was rewarded with a tiny bite that made her gasp in her throat.
“Stay still,” he said with a low chuckle. And his tongue swept over her breast again.
By the time he was done with both breasts, she was whimpering with need. Her sticky hands went to his hair and she tried to pull him in to kiss her. She needed him so badly. But he slipped out of her grasp and grabbed the frosting again. “You taste sweet, but I haven’t had all of you yet.”
“But—” she bit back her protest. He was going to frost her…there?
He dipped another finger into the frosting, looked up at her, and kissed her bent knee. “Spread your legs, darlin’.”
With a whimper, she did. “Not in me—”
“’Course not,” he said softly. And she felt him slather the top of her pussy, where she kept her mound bare and neat because she knew he liked it. “But I had to give this pretty little thing attention.”
And his mouth descended there, ravenously flicking against her mound, then sliding to her clit.
“Colt,” she cried out, and then her hands were on his head and she was pushing him there, grinding his face into her pussy. His tongue rasped against her clit and she cried out when he gave it another long, slow, circling lick, then darted away to finish cleaning the frosting off of her mound. He licked his lips as if she tasted delicious, and then his mouth went to her clit again, sucking and lapping as if it was the sweetest treat yet. Her nails dug into his scalp, and a moment later, she felt the orgasm rip through her body. She moaned his name again, and his tongue flicked and flicked, bringing shockwave after shockwave rippling through her bucking hips. When the last ripple of pleasure tore through her, she lowered her hips—she’d been arching them off the counter to push them harder against his mouth, it’d seem—she gave a wobbly sigh.
He pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee. “Never going to be able to eat chocolate again without thinking of you under me, pushing your pussy into my mouth.”
She blushed. Like she’d ever be able to think of cake again without thinking of his fist curled around the base of his cock, spilling frosting over the hard length so she could lick it up.
Her hips twitched in response. Down, girl. She turned her head and looked at the cake. “You did that for me?”
“I did,” he said, the words a low drawl.
“We didn’t even eat a slice.” Strange how she wasn’t disappointed about that in the slightest.
“Night’s young,” he said, and ran his teeth over her knee, then caressed it as if he couldn’t stop tasting her, touching her. “We could get dressed, shower, and have ourselves a cake party back at my cabin.”
She grinned. “That sounds like a plan…after we clean the counters here.”
His chuckle of response made her heart feel warm.
THIRTEEN
It took an hour to clean up the kitchen, and another half hour before they’d showered and sat back down in his small cabin to eat a piece of cake. Beth Ann had cut a piece of the cake and sat in Colt’s lap, naked, her hair pulled up in a towel. He sat under her clad only in his briefs and dog tags, and she occasionally fed him a bite of cake, though he’d insisted that it was all for her. With her hands occupied and her lovely mouth eating his cake, he was free to explore and touch her body. He couldn’t get enough of her soft skin.
His hands stroked over every inch of her flesh, his fingers teasing her small nipples as she relaxed against him and ate cake, and told him about her day. As she was telling him about another tedious Halloween committee meeting, her phone buzzed with a text message.
“Leave it,” he said automatically, and rolled his fingers over one nipple, eliciting a responsive shiver from her.
“It’ll bother me until I see it,” she said with a smile. She slid out of his grasp and put her plate next to the small kitchenette sink before heading over to get her phone. “It might be Miranda. She said she was going to send me some pictures of how she wanted to do her hair for Halloween.”
“If she’s anything other than a sexy librarian, Dane’ll be disappointed.” He watched her pretty, plump ass sway as she moved to the sink. This was how it’d be if they lived together. Her, naked and wandering around his place, having a conversation about their day.
He’d be down with that.
Beth Ann snorted at his comment, and picked up her phone. She clicked on the phone, and then her mouth tensed.
“What is it?” The protective instinct welled up inside him, and he resisted the urge to take the phone out of her hand and smash it, just so she’d stop frowning so much.
She’d been frowning too much lately.
“It’s Allan,” she said in a flat voice. “And judging by the amount of typos, he’s drunk dialing me.” She stared at the small screen, tilted her head and recited, “‘Bethy-babe, I miss you, love you, and want you back. My life is incomplete’—he spelled incomplete wrong, by the way—‘without you. You deserve better than that asshole Colt. You don’t know him like I do. He’s not who you think’—oh, and then it cuts off. Idiot.”
Annoyance flared through him. “Why don’t you block his number?”
“It’s this new phone. I don’t know how to do it. Too many menus.” She frowned and flipped through it, skimming a finger over the screen
.
“I can do it,” he said, and she handed her phone over to him. She went to the sink and began to scrape her plate.
Another message came in. Colt clicked on it before the phone could buzz longer than an instant, and saw it was from Allan again.
I talked with the fire chief. Colt kept you in the woods all weekend just so he could fuck you. You want to be with an asshole like that? He thinks you’re just a hot pussy to stick his dick in. He thinks—
“Did you get it?”
Colt quickly deleted the message, anger and guilt flaring through him. So Allan had figured out that Colt had lied about that first weekend they’d spent together, and thought the worst of him? And now he wanted to tell Beth Ann and save her? Unease gnawed in his stomach. She needed to hear it from him, so he could explain.
He finished setting up the block on her phone and handed it back to her, saying nothing about the second message.
Beth Ann tossed the phone aside and crawled back into his lap, pressing her naked breasts against his chest. She tugged the towel off her hair and let the wet locks slither over her skin. “You’re frowning,” she said, running a thumb over his bottom lip.
“I just hate that asshole,” Colt said. It was the truth, even though it was more than that. The dick was trying to ruin what he had with Beth Ann. And he wasn’t about to let that happen. He was going to see that jackass tomorrow and pound his face in if he had to, but the man was going to leave Beth Ann alone.
“Don’t worry about him,” she said, her voice soft. Her thumb kept brushing against his lower lip, and he wondered if she was imagining his mouth on her mouth, or perhaps lower. “I don’t trust a word he says. Being with you is nothing like being with him.”
“Good,” he said shortly.
That made a smile curve her mouth, and he was struck by how beautiful she was. “I brought you a present,” she said breathlessly, and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth.
“Oh?” He parted his lips, felt her small tongue flick inside his mouth, felt his cock stir again. Fuck, he was still thinking about frosting. If he closed his eyes, he saw his cock shoved down her throat, frosting rimming her mouth, her gaze up at him as she swallowed his cum. His dick was hard just thinking about it.