Page 13 of Sugar Kisses


  “So?” She backs up, her mascara slightly smudged. She looks gorgeous beyond words. “What’s your favorite position, Brighton?” It streams from her with an angry edge, and I’m not going to deny liking it.

  I unbutton her jeans and peel them off. I pluck off her sweater and bra all in one fell swoop. My eyes travel up and down her body as she stands here in nothing but her pretty pink underwear, and that smile I’ve been fighting breaks through just enough.

  “This is my favorite position, cupcake,” I say, hitching my thumbs in her panties and watching them sail to the floor. “Right here with you.” I meet her gaze, and she softens just enough.

  I pick her right back up and land her against the wall, working fast and furious to pluck the condom out of my wallet and roll it on without our lips ever leaving one another. I suppose this isn’t the best time to show off that I can manage the task with my eyes closed. God knows I’m ready and willing to impress her with a hell of a lot more if she’ll let me, and it looks as if she’s about to do just that.

  Her kisses increase with fury. Roxy pours all her pent up rage into me as she tugs at my hair, rakes her nails over my back.

  My hand rides up from her thigh, and my fingers touch down in her heated slick, soft as velvet.

  A groan gets buried in her throat as she grinds her hips into my chest begging for more.

  My dick throbs rock hard and ticked that it hasn’t been invited to the party yet, so I go for it. I gently push in and watch Roxy’s head knock into the wall, her eyes roll into her skull as she lets out a cry that says everything I’ve waited to hear.

  I pull her in by the back of the neck and cover her mouth with mine. Roxy sinks over my dick with her body, her fingers digging into my shoulders all the way down.

  I take her against the wall like that, pressing in deep until it feels as if I’m about to burst with just one thrust. Her mouth melts over mine as I jolt her into the wall over and over. Roxy heaves as I squeeze my hands into her hips and move her over me with a burst of energy that’s just this side of barbaric. I’ve never had a girl in the kitchen—against the wall—never had it so damn primal and necessary.

  A picture hanging above us rattles in tune with my thrusts, the entire apartment sounds as if it’s about to collapse with its deafening clap.

  It feels as if my world is about to detonate, in every good way.

  9

  Nothing Tastes Better Than Sex Cake

  Roxy

  When I was younger, my friends would talk about what it would be like to “go to bed with a guy,” and I would cringe. I imagined myself with my hair in rollers, a green facial mask on, and the most unflattering flannel pajama dress known to man—white with yellow printed daisies just like my mother used to make me wear. How could a cute boy ever want to see me like that, I would wonder. But, now that I’m older, I see that even with my hair covered in powdered sugar, my naked body coated with raspberry jam as if a baking massacre just occurred—Cole still very much wants to see me like this. He holds that lustful look on his face, and I know now that I’ve had nothing to worry about all along.

  My eyes slit open, and I watch as Cole thrusts his head back, his lids shut tight, his brows narrow in as if he were in pain. He’s pumping his body into mine, harder and faster, digging his fingers into my hips, squeezing as if he’s about to pinch right through. He’s so lost in his delirium. It catapults me into the stratosphere knowing that I’m responsible for that. That I’m the one who put that lusty look on his face—it’s my body making him convulse with pleasure. I own this man in the very best way.

  He bucks forward burying his lips in my neck and jolts. “I’m coming,” he hisses as he trembles over me with the release.

  The picture stops quaking. The chair stops slamming up against the wall from the tension we’ve put on this small corner of the kitchen. The room clots up with a bionic silence that makes my ears pulsate in turn—leaving nothing but the sound of our panting.

  His even heated breaths cool over my chest.

  “Shit.” He huffs with the hint of a laugh. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “I plan on keeping you on your toes.”

  He pulls back and beams that million-dollar smile. His teeth go on and off like a flashlight until his head falls into me again. Cole rides slow, easy kisses up my neck all the way to my lips.

  “Sorry,” he moans over my lips.

  “For the STDs?” A part of me cringes because I pray it’s not true.

  “I’m clean, I swear.” He pulls back and gives a wry smile.

  “Oh, yeah? And how do you know? Did that magic eight ball on the coffee table tell you?”

  “Because”—he lands a wet kiss over my lips—“I just had all my shots at the vet, cupcake. That’s how I know.” He pulls out and cinches his jeans up a notch. “Shower or bed?”

  “There’s no way you’re dragging me to that lice-infested love den of yours.” A dark laugh rumbles in my throat. “I hadn’t really thought of having sex with you anywhere in this apartment. I’m odd like that.”

  His brows pitch giving him an ironically innocent look, and a dull ache explodes in my gut because I can’t believe this beautiful boy was inside me, rough and greedy, taking me like a beast in heat.

  “Not in the apartment, huh?” Cole seems genuinely perplexed by my lack of coital creativity. “You know what I like better than imaging where we’ll have sex?” His affect flattens, his lids hood low, and he looks sexy as all hell. “Showing you.”

  Cole pulls my arms up high and lunges into me with a kiss that spells I love you with every cell in his body. His hot mouth moves lower as he gently pulls me toward the hall. I know where this is going. He’s already hinted at it, and I’m almost looking forward to it since the sticky raspberry goo he marked me with has dripped down to my toes.

  “How come I’m naked, and you still have half your clothes on?” I bite down over his ear until he gives a hard groan.

  “Because I’m a dirty bastard.” His lids stay low. His chest pumps hard as if he just ran a marathon.

  “Knew it.” My fingers glide down his chest, straight to that stream of barely there hair that leads to penis places where dirty condoms live. I stop shy of the sticky mess and kiss him instead.

  “I’m right there with you.” Cole flicks off his shoes, and they shoot across the room like missiles. His jeans drop in the hall, and he steps right out of them. He whisks us into the bathroom and turns on the shower. I switch on the light, shocked at my own bravery. Here I am standing under the surprise of illumination—naked with the exception of my hair falling over my chest. If I turn around, he’ll see that I should probably utilize that workout garb I wear every day, and that my sweatshirts are mostly for show because I don’t spend any of my free time doing Pilates or yoga. The truth is I eat cupcakes like they were nutritional supplements and down eight cups of coffee just to keep my fluids up. If I ever need a blood transfusion, they’d better hook me up to a latte drip, or I’ll be a gonner as soon as the caffeine wears off.

  “And what about these?” I tug at his boxers.

  Cole moves with the dexterity of a magician and discards the condom and his boxers. He pulls me into the almost scalding shower way too fast for me to ever properly check him out.

  “Things are about to get hotter.” Cole stands in front of me as if we’re about to dance. The water sprays over my back, drumming soft as tears before trickling down my legs. A silver plume of steam envelops us. His eyes are glued to mine as he digs his fingers into the back of my hair. “You know what I thought that first day in the bar?”

  “That you’d land me in bed a lot sooner than this?”

  His chest bucks. “Technically, I still haven’t landed you in bed.”

  “You will.” I touch my finger under his chin and pull him forward as if he were on a string. “And if you’re very, very lucky, I’ll let you repeat the effort.”

  His lips curve up on one side. That cocky smirk that drive
s me fucking insane takes over, and I want nothing more than to jump his bones. And, since I’m short on girly sentiments, I hop up on his hips and wrap my legs around his slippery waist. Cole rushes in with a kiss, wild as a hurricane—an entire wash of emotions releasing in my mouth. His bare skin against mine feels like the most erotic thing in the world—hard and hot, chiseled in all the right places. It’s Christmas and my birthday and every good thing I’ve ever felt in my life exploding over my senses all at once.

  “God, I love you,” I pant into his ear. I don’t bother telling him I’ve not once said those words to Aiden. They were words for other people, other ridiculous morons who bought into the fantasy of expensive weddings and cheesy Valentine’s Day traditions. Something about Cole has unwound me, unraveled me like a tightknit sweater, and I can breathe and smile, and, for the very first time, I can see the glimmer of an expensive wedding on the horizon. Not to mention I plan on making our first Valentine’s Day as cheesy as possible with rose petals on the mattress and enough hot fudge to bathe us both in.

  “I love you, cupcake,” he says it serious right into my ear, and I suck in a breath with the erotic rush it gave me. I soak the words in—drink them down right through to my porous bones. Holy hell, he loves me.

  Cole melts kisses down my neck, down my chest before dropping to his knees. His mouth lands hot over my belly button and dips in and out as I give a mean shudder.

  My palm flattens against the cool tile. My breathing grows erratic as Cole dips lower until his searing mouth finds a home over the most tender part of me. He pushes my thighs apart with his strong, thick fingers as my hands dig into his hair.

  His tongue rides over me soft at first then at a quickened pace. The universe expands and retracts around me. Every molecule in my body stands at attention as he explodes over me with a fit of passion. The room quakes. My body seizes and writhes while the pressure builds thick and urgent as the essence of who I am begs to rip from my skin. This thing with Cole—love—is something foreign to me, far too outrageously delicious to have ever happened before.

  His tongue runs wild over me, and the pace of the world picks up. Pulses of electricity zip along my nerves setting my skin on fire. My past evaporates like a vapor, and this very moment reassigns itself as a rebirth, the genesis of the rest of my days.

  A cry rips from my lungs as my body erupts in a wave of convulsive shivers.

  I push him off and hold my hands there, knotted up in his hair, with Cole on his knees for me, and I memorize the moment.

  It could be like this always if I wanted.

  If I could just keep from screwing things up.

  Somehow I doubt this.

  We spend all night tangled up in one another’s exhausted arms right there on the living room floor with my comforter thrown over us haphazardly. In the morning my lids flutter as I try to adjust to the harsh light coming in through the window.

  I grind to life, and the first thing I see are Cole’s perfect lips. God, this boy is beautiful. His dark hair, black as midnight, his long lashes curl perfectly upward. And even in his sleep, he wears that sexy smirk that says, yeah, you’re coming to bed with me. I was never the jealous type. I couldn’t care less about who or what other girls are looking at, but just knowing that Cole gets those bedroom eyes right back makes my stomach pinch with grief. For once, I’d love to be the center of someone’s world. I’d love to steal the spotlight in someone’s life for more than five minutes before being discarded or cheated on.

  I press a quick kiss to his neck, his hard-on already rousing to greet me. My chest rumbles with a laugh as I carefully extract myself from his warm embrace. I toss on his T-shirt and hit the kitchen, pulling out weapons of culinary destruction as quietly as possible.

  For as long as I can remember, I have tried to commemorate a special occasion by creating a new confection that I thought somehow captured the magic.

  I pull out the ingredients, and as I reach for the eggs, it hits me like a thousand butter soft cupcakes, and I know just what to do to make these extra special.

  The thick scent of sugar marrying with butter lights up the room as I bake up a quick batch. There’s a hint of cocoa in the air that leaves me swooning to the aroma of my own creation.

  A pair of arms slip around me from behind. “Morning.”

  I glance up as Cole presses a kiss over the top of my head.

  “Morning, yourself.”

  He lets out a hearty groan, and his eyes roll back into his head. “You’re killing me with that smell.” He walks over to the oven and peeks inside.

  “Relax, they’re ready.” I pull them out and let them cool on the counter. “You know what else is ready?” I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him in.

  He’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a grin, and I’m pretty sure that’s all that Cole Brighton should ever wear.

  “Me for you?” He plants a kiss just shy of my ear, and my toes curl from that one simple act.

  “I was going to say me for you, but I think I like it the other way around even better.”

  Cole sobers up. His expression softens as he pours his affection straight into my eyes. “You’re really special to me, Rox.” His lips twitch like he might lose it. “Do you want this with me?”

  A spear of adrenaline shoots through my chest like a rocket. “Yes—hell, yes, I want this with you. You’re the best surprise life has ever given me.” My insides pulsate as if they were somehow trying to make an escape because, deep down, I’m afraid I’ve pushed him away with how desperate I sound.

  His dimples dig in deep. His brows lengthen like birds in flight, and my heart soars with relief.

  “I’m glad.” He ticks his head back toward the table at the stacks and stacks of bakery boxes filled with cupcakes. “What time do these need to be delivered?”

  “About three-thirty.”

  “Good.” He glances at the clock on the microwave. “I want to help you finish them and make sure they get there on time. Even if your brother is responsible, I’m sure whoever’s expecting them is looking forward to having one of the best cupcakes in the world.”

  “Thank you.” I dot his lips with a kiss, and for the first time in my life, I feel normal—not like some freak or ball of anger, just simply like me. “Speaking of the best cupcake in the world. I made these special just for you.” I hand him a warm cupcake fresh from the tin.

  “Chocolate’s my favorite.” He takes a bite and freezes. His apple-green eyes lay over mine, and he doesn’t move. Cole doesn’t breathe. He finishes it off in a few quick bites, and a roar gurgles from his throat.

  “I like to call it nothing’s-better-than-sex-with-Cole-Brighton cake. I bet I could sell them by the dozen just standing outside sorority row.” There’s a fun fact.

  He shakes his head. His eyes hold a smile just for me. “How about we keep this one just for us.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I run my finger along his strong jawline. “Why’s that?”

  “Because the only person ‘Cole Brighton’ wants to have sex with now and forever is you.” He scoops me into his arms, and I let out a little scream as I fall back into his strong embrace. “We’ve got a few hours. Why don’t I give you a demonstration?”

  “By all means, show me what you’ve got.”

  “I plan to.”

  He lands us on the couch with his mouth hot over mine, his hands exploring my body with a heated restraint.

  Having sex with Cole both now and forever?

  I can get used to that.

  But a warning goes off deep inside me that says don’t count on it.

  Cole

  The sun never bothered to show today, just one long, slate grey sky as a storm front pushes on the horizon.

  Roxy and I unload a thousand cupcakes from the back of my truck and drop them off at the animal shelter where kids and parents alike wait to dig into the detectible desserts and hopefully adopt a dog or two.

  Roxy gets back in the truck and just as I’m a
bout to do the same, her cruising-for-a-bruising brother pops up.

  I nod over at him because I’m pretty damn sure whatever might fly out of my mouth won’t be half as nice.

  “What the hell are you doing with my sister, man?” He says it quiet like he genuinely wants to know. “We both know what kind of guy you are.”

  “What kind of guy is that?” I grit it out with my adrenaline pumping because I think I know where this conversation is headed.

  “The kind who doesn’t know how to keep it in his pants—Whitney Briggs’ very own white trash.”

  “Fuck you.” I butt my shoulder into his as I make my way to the truck and take off without ever looking back.

  Damn douche is lucky I didn’t run him over for the hell of it.

  “What’s got you going?” Roxy leans into the side mirror and makes a face. “Never mind. Would you please ignore him? I swear he thinks he protecting me. I’ll have to remind him I don’t need protecting anymore.”

  My stomach cinches. “Funny you should say that.” Actually, it’s not funny. Just the thought of what went on last semester makes the acid rise to the back of my throat. “I sort of did the same to Baya when she started dating Bryson.”

  Roxy reaches over and rests her hand on my thigh.

  “I know,” she whispers. “That’s why I’m hoping you’ll cut him some slack.” She straightens in her seat. “Hey…since you’re an expert on being an obnoxious big brother, why don’t you talk to him? You know, really get down to bare bones and let him know you get it. That you were there once yourself.”