Dirty Talker: A Single Dads Club Romance Page 8

  “Put a ring on it.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

  “What?” I giggle like a schoolgirl.

  Stop it.

  “The cupcake, all your cupcakes. So. Fucking. Good.”

  He peruses the other ones, his eyes widening as he takes them all in.

  “Which one should I choose?” His hand floats over the tray until he picks up the sangria one.

  “That’s a sangria berry flavored.”

  His smile grows. “Perfect. You really picked some great samples here.”

  Again, my breathing hitches, my heart thumps in my chest watching him eat another cupcake.

  He reacts the same, eyes closed, inaudible murmur and I force myself to stay seated instead of straddling him and inviting him to eat the cupcakes off my naked body.

  Real professional, Ava.

  We continue this torture for another four cupcakes until Dane pushes the tray to the side.

  “I think I’ve indulged enough and I can confidently say, you can make whatever the hell you want for my grill.” He pats his stomach. “Damn, girl, where did you learn to bake?”

  Needing to escape the closeness of us, I grab two waters from the fridge and hand him one.

  His forearms flex as he twists it open and his Adam’s apple bobs when he guzzles down half the bottle. “Thanks.”

  I nod.

  “So, where did you learn?” He turns his body on the stool to face me.

  “My mom.”

  “She’s a baker?”

  “Well, after her and my dad split, she had to find a job. A bakery hired her for behind the counter help, but as the time went on, they needed more help in the kitchen and the woman trained her. You know what it’s like in one parent households—the kids end up at their parent’s work a lot.” I smile and he nods, a quick look of guilt shadowing his features. “I picked up on things. There were times I’d help her out. I loved it but never thought of actually doing it for a living. And here I am.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for stepping into the family business. My stomach thanks you, too.” His grin spreads across his face and the space between my legs heats.

  “So…” In an attempt to distract myself from my thoughts I grab a notepad and pen from the table behind me. “How many would you like me to make you each night? Or would you rather just do weekends? Or we could try it out and if it doesn’t work...”

  His hand warms my forearm.

  “Relax.” He dips his head to look me in the eyes.

  They’re searching mine and although I try to push back all of my desire for him, his chest rises and falls with a heavy breath showing me that I failed.

  “Sorry. I’m just nervous for some reason.” I drop the pen and clench my fists.

  “Hey, it’s me, Dane Murray, your friend.”

  I shake my head and stand up, getting as far away as I can, which lands me on the other side of the counter, my hands planted in front of me on the stainless steel.

  “Don’t,” I warn and he holds his hands up in the air.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Make a joke of the friend agreement.”

  He chuckles. “It’s funny, you know.” He looks up at the ceiling, his biceps on prominent display with his arms crossed over his chest. “Your cupcake tray kind of explains why people struggle with monogamy.”

  I scrunch my eyebrows, waiting for him to explain himself.

  “Would you want only one flavor of cupcake for your entire life?”

  “Yes, I would. I would be happy to eat a chocolate cupcake with coconut shavings everyday of my life.” My tone is indignant. I’m not going to fall for his lure to get me to sleep with him again.

  “Hey.” He raises his hands in the air in defense. “I’m not saying anything, I’m just saying what if you marry some dude who can’t give you chocolate one night, red velvet the next, and still be able to make your toes curl with vanilla?”

  He stares at me, as though his point is proven.

  “Why would I marry that person?” I round the prep station, needing something to do other than stare into those moss green eyes.

  “You tell me.” He gulps down more of his water and his Adam’s apple bounces up and down. I can’t help the desire that wells up inside. I want to run my tongue over the top of it and drag it all the way up to his ear.

  Ugh. Back to the point at hand.

  “Is this all because I said I couldn’t have casual sex with you?”

  “I don’t think our sex would be casual. Applaudable, earth-shattering…those are better words for our sex.”

  I bite down on my lip, attempting to shelter the smile, but my cheeks are rising.

  “Don’t we think highly of ourselves? Earth-shattering?”

  “Hey.” His shoulders rise and fall. “I’m not giving all the credit to myself. You’re a yoga master in some of the positions you contort yourself into.”

  Now I’m not only smiling like a goon, I’m blushing.

  “Good to know I won’t be some plain vanilla cupcake for the man I marry.”

  “Definitely not.”

  I nod thinking it’s time put this topic to bed now.

  “Where are you going with this conversation?” I ask.

  “Just food for thought. I’m not built for one flavor the rest of my life. I like variety, but lately, I’ve been thinking, maybe variety doesn’t have to mean numerous girls.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “Did you have this epiphany before or after I shot you down?”

  He puckers his lips. “Did you really shoot me down? I don’t remember asking.”

  I almost reach for a cupcake to throw in his cocky, arrogant face, but the last thing I need is to smear frosting on an already edible body. I fear I’ll end up licking it off.

  “Answer the question,” I grit out.

  “Yeah.” The stool slides across the floor when he stands. “See, after you this summer, I beat off to the image of you. My cock likes the memory of you bent over my desk, not to mention the memory of you straddling my face.”

  I blush and back away as he rounds the prep table.

  “No one has really piqued my interest. I haven’t really dated, and definitely haven’t slept with anyone else. Then it dawned on me.”

  “It dawned on you. When you were fisting your cock to the image of fucking me?” That front I’m so used to putting on is crumbling as he approaches. I back up another step, trying to act indifferent to his stalking toward me.

  He chuckles. “We’ve only been friends a few days and you already know me so well.” He winks and my stomach disobeys my brain by flipping and flopping over and over again.

  “I can be exclusive with you.”

  “I feel honored. Is this your way of asking me out?” I swallow the extra saliva building in my mouth. Damn, his shirt is so tight around those strong shoulders.

  “I have a deal that I think we’ll both be happy about.”

  “Which is?”

  He stops a foot away from me, his thumb rubbing up and down the prep table. His gaze detours from mine as though he has to gather up the strength to say what he wants to. When he looks up, his eyes are swimming in determination.

  “We can be exclusive friends with benefits.” He holds up his two fingers in the air. “I promise I won’t date or fuck anyone else while we’re messing around.”

  “Scouts honor?” I give his two raised fingers a questioning gaze, knowing if Dane was ever a boy scout, it was solely to build fires and use a knife. “Why not a pinky promise?”

  He tucks the two fingers into his fist and then he’s holding his hand out to me with his pinky finger extended. His very large hand with those slim fingers that know exactly how to curl inside me and make me crazy.

  I push my thighs together, clenching to push that memory away.

  “I’m cool with a pinky promise.”

  I shake my head, spinning on the balls of my feet and walking to the fridge. Grabbing the bottle of vodka from the freezer,
I twist it open and swallow down a shot.

  Dane meets me there, grabbing the bottle from my hands and pouring it down his own throat and then sets it on the counter.

  “What do you say?” he asks, his gaze intent.

  His deal is tempting. I can’t deny the fact he rocked my world those two nights. The man is insatiable and I loved every second his hands, mouth and dick were all over and in me.

  “No rules. No obligations. If anyone decides they meet someone they want to date then it’s over?” I ask.

  He nods, closing in on my space now. The promise that he’ll rock my world is all over his face.

  “No one can know about it. This is between us, after hours or secret places.”

  He nods, his finger skimming down my arm.

  “No guy talk at the gym or in those single dad meetings.”

  He nods, stepping so close our bodies are flush together. God, he smells edible.

  “Why?” I ask, wondering why he’s willing to veer from his usual M.O.

  His hand moves up until he’s cupping my face, his thumb rubbing along my cheek. “I need to work you out of my system.”

  There it is. No romantic line about how much he needs me in his life. He wants to use me and move on. I’d harness the energy to be offended, but I think I need the same—get my fill of him—literally—and then move on to a normal, healthy relationship with someone who isn’t such a commitment-phobe.

  “Okay.” I press my cheek into his palm and he bends his head down. “Pinky promise?” I ask again.

  “Pinky promise,” he whispers before sealing our deal with a kiss that weakens my knees, but I don’t have to worry about falling because Dane’s arm swings around my waist and hoists me up and swings me back around onto the prep table.

  Is Dane the devil or a saint?

  Neither. He’s a fucking genius, especially with how he’s mastered the way he uses his tongue.

  11

  Ava

  The cool metal permeates through the thin fabric of my shirt while the heat of his body on top of me warms my front. I forgot how much I love the weight of him on me. How secure I feel with him.

  The first two times we were together, our movements were frantic and uncontrolled, but tonight his hands move under the hem of my shirt, slower and more deliberate. Maybe he’s been imagining doing this in his beat off sessions.

  His large palm cups my breast and I wiggle under him, the ache in my pussy building.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to feel your skin again.” His mouth casts open kisses up my neck while his other hand reaches down and fiddles with the button of my jeans. “I can’t wait to see what you’re hiding under here.”

  The lightbulb goes off. Fuck.

  I sit up and he slides off me. “What?” His eyes peer through the opening to the front door. “Did you hear something?”

  “No. Um, I’m all for this.” I motion with my finger between us. “Just not tonight.”

  I slide my breast into my white cotton bra and straighten my t-shirt.

  Placing his hand on my hip, he maneuvers me to the edge of the table, pinning both arms on either side of me.

  “Talk,” he says, bending his head down once again, kissing my collarbone and my neck.

  “Maybe we should think it over some more,” I rush out.

  “Do you not want me? Whenever and wherever you want?” His voice has that low timber that makes my core clench.

  “Yes. I want you, but...” My thoughts trail off when he moves to the hollow of my neck, his tongue swirling until he reaches the other side.

  “What is it Ava?” he murmurs against my heated skin.

  My head lulls back and he takes the opportunity as an invitation.

  “My tongue is magic, remember how good it felt working your pussy?”

  His hand skims along the side of my stomach and his finger grazes along my stomach until his thumb and forefinger are flicking the button of my jeans again.

  “Nope.” I take two hands and push him off.

  His eyes are wide with surprise but he’s still staring at me like I’m his own batch of chocolate peanut butter cupcakes and he doesn’t plan on leaving any crumbs behind.

  “Okay.” He holds his hands up. “I’m not gonna beg.” He rounds the counter, swiping his phone and keys off the counter. “Let me know when you want to initiate our agreement.”

  Watching his back as he leaves feels like a jagged knife twisting in my stomach.

  “Dane!” I call out.

  He turns on his heels, leaning in the doorway in his usual suave, confident way. Somehow his position always seems to have the same affect on me as watching Magic Mike.

  “What if we turn off the lights?” I ask.

  Surely, that will be okay. There’s no way I’m going to let him see me in my white cotton bra I’m wearing because it’s my most comfortable and a pair of cotton panties that are jacked up to my naval because I haven’t had time to laundry in three weeks. Said panties may or may not also have a tear around the elastic waistband.

  “Nah, I’ll wait. I need to see your body.” He pushes off the doorframe and stands straight. “Why so shy?” His stance widens and he fiddles with the keys in his hands.

  “Um…”

  “I don’t want to push you into anything, Ava. You have all the control.”

  I look down at the table. “It’s just, I wasn’t really prepared for this to happen tonight.”

  A deep chuckle floats out of him and he grabs his phone out of his back pocket and places it and his keys on the counter, stalking toward me.

  “You need to shave?” he asks and my face heats to the level I imagine it would standing in front of an explosion. “Because that’s okay.”

  “No, I shaved.” Which must have been some sort of sixth sense because I hadn’t since the rafting. “Um,” I swallow. “Remember that pink see through matching bra and panty set you saw me in the first time?” He nods a deep breath causing his chest to rise and fall. “The second time, I had that sexy zip down athletic bra and nothing under my yoga pants.”

  “Best surprise.” The corner of his lips upturns into a smile as he bites his bottom lip.

  “Neither would be the case right now.”

  “So.” He shrugs, and his hands grab the hem of my t-shirt, fiddling with it in his hands. “You were going to pass up on an earth-shattering sex marathon because you aren’t wearing sexy lingerie?”

  That sounds a tiny bit lame now that he says it out loud.

  “Well...”

  He pulls the t-shirt over my head, and my hands quickly wrap around my breasts to cover the bra.

  Grabbing my forearms, he pries them apart and licks his lips. He reaches back, unhooking the clasp and it drops to the floor.

  “One problem solved.” He bends down, and his mouth takes my nipple into his mouth. His eyes glance up to mine, and my nipple pops out of his wet and inviting mouth. “I did like the bow though.”

  I roll my eyes and my breathing hiccups when his hands again move to the button of my pants. He slides them down my legs, his mouth sucking and licking my breasts the entire time. I wait for him to glance down. To look at what I’m wearing, but his fingers blindly pull both sides down my legs and he waits for me to step out of them before he flings them somewhere behind him.

  Now that I’m standing in front of him naked, he kisses his way back up to my mouth.

  “Better?” he softly asks against my lips.

  “Better.”

  “Can I fuck you now?”

  “You better.” My hand reaches behind his head and pulls it toward me. His tongue dives into my waiting mouth with determination.

  Locking his head to mine, our lips and tongue search for a pace but nothing seems to quench the need in either of us. His hands search my body like it’s the last time he can touch a woman and quickly, his fingers dig into my hips and he hoists me up onto the table.

  Because he’s so tall, we’re even in height now and
I strip him of his t-shirt, tossing it on the floor. My hands explore all the grooves and indents of his muscled chest.

  “You’re so fucking hot,” I say and his lips close to smile against my lips. “I want to taste you,” I whisper as his lips hover over mine.

  “I could say the same.” A smirk crosses his lips.

  My hand explores, coming upon his pants and I flick the button open and slide the zipper down, his already hard cock pops out of the hole in the front of his boxer briefs, begging to be played with.

  I squirm to get off the table, ready to take him in my mouth, but he stops me, his hand pressing on my chest until I’m lying flat.

  “You’ll have plenty of chances, but you’ve made me wait too long to taste you again.”

  He widens my legs, his head dipping between my thighs.

  My body almost convulses when his tongue touches my clit. I arch my back, but he places his hand on the small of my stomach, keeping me down.

  His tongue continues to manipulate my center, twirling and swirling, eating me like I’m his own personal cupcake made just for him, but when his teeth scrape along my clit, my entire body quivers for the orgasm he’s spurring.

  His finger pushes into me and then another one, filling me up.

  “Dane!” I scream, my fist pounding the metal, needing something to grab onto.

  Once he arches those strong fingers right to my G-spot I come like a freight train unable to stop. There’s no yellow warning, my orgasm barrels through me straight from red to green.

  His tongue slows, placing sweet kisses to my now trembling pussy until he’s staring up at me. Propping up on my elbows, our eyes lock, and his hands reach for my hands, urging me up.

  “Taste yourself,” he says, his mouth covering mine. He pulls away. “See how addicting you are?”

  I don’t answer, not that I think he’s expecting one. Using my heels, I push his jeans down to the floor and he toes out of his shoes and pushes everything off to the side, leaving him in a red pair of boxer briefs.

  “I like it.” I examine his rock-hard dick tenting the front of his boxer briefs.

  “You’re going to like it even more when it’s deep inside you.”

  “I was talking about the boxers, but that too,” I laugh, and he slides me to the edge of the table again.