9
“Are you sure you don’t mind this? I know you have a ton to do to get ready for the grand opening.”
Holt waited until Cayla had fastened her earrings before turning her from the bathroom mirror to face him and boxing her in against the counter, one arm planted on either side of her hips. “I’ve got this. Maddie and I will be fine. And I swear I’ll make sure she eats something that isn’t pure sugar.”
Her chest rose and fell in a heavy sigh as her hands skated up his chest and over his shoulders to toy with the hair at his nape. “I’m not questioning your capability. I just… don’t want to take advantage.”
Wanting to purr at her touch, he lowered his mouth to a hair’s breadth from hers. “You can take advantage of me anytime.”
Cayla groaned. “I’d like the chance to take that kind of advantage of you at all. And I know we could probably squeeze in something fast under current circumstances, but as this past week has shown, the likelihood of getting interrupted is high, and as hard as this is, being interrupted further along in the… uh… process just seems mean.”
A laugh rumbled up in his chest. “You’re not wrong. And I suppose there’s something to be said for anticipation.”
Her smile was wry. “If my anticipation dials up much more, all you’re going to have to do is look at me.”
“There’s something to aspire to.” Easing back, he dragged his gaze from her face down to her chest, imagining the sight of those lovely full breasts without the restriction of bra and dress. Her nipples pebbled as he watched, and he grinned.
“There’s going to be no living with you now, is there?”
“Don’t worry. I understand that with great power comes great responsibility.” To illustrate the point, he gripped her by the hips and sat her on the counter.
“What are you doing?” Cayla’s voice was gratifyingly breathless and her knees automatically parted to accommodate him.
“The way I see it is this: Yeah, we’d both like a big chunk of uninterrupted time to explore each other. But at this point, we’re probably more distracted from the things we’re supposed to be doing by thinking about getting naked together. So it seems prudent to take the edge off.” He skimmed his palms up her torso.
“But Maddie—ooooh.” Her voice trailed off on a moan as he cupped her breasts over the dress, circling those pert nipples with his thumbs.
“She’s currently enraptured by old episodes of Voltron. On the other side of the bedroom door, which is locked, with the chair in front. You don’t have to be out the door for fifteen more minutes, and under the circumstances, I don’t think you’re going to take that long.”
Those brown eyes were glazed with lust as she smiled. “Cocky, aren’t you?”
“It’s not cocky when it’s justified. I need to get my hands on you. Need to taste you. Just a little to get me through. Please?”
“Well, what kind of wife would I be if I said no to such a polite request?”
Oh, hell yeah. He loved the sound of that.
Dipping his hand into the neckline of her dress, he freed one beautiful breast, immediately bending to take that pearled nipple into his mouth. Cayla’s breath exploded out, her fingers threading into his hair. She was so damned sweet, so responsive to each swirl and pull of his tongue. Judging by those little whimpering cries she was trying to muffle, he could probably make her come just from this. But he wanted to give her more. Because she’d given him back a piece of himself he hadn’t even known was missing, and he knew he was a drowning man slipping under for the third time.
Switching over to the other breast, he stroked his free hand up her leg, beneath the skirt of her dress, to the heated juncture between her thighs. She immediately rocked into his touch, and he felt the dampness of her underwear. Shifting them aside, he cupped her, growling as he parted her folds and felt all that hot, slick wetness against his palm. For him.
It took all his control not to lose it right then and there. But he’d made her a promise, and he intended to deliver.
One finger breached that waiting heat, and she cried out. Abandoning her breast, he took her mouth, swallowing her moans of pleasure, as he slid a second finger into that tight channel, imagining it was his dick she was riding with abandon. He wanted her over him, so he could watch those gorgeous breasts bounce as he thrust inside her. He’d gone so hard behind his fly, the zipper was probably leaving a permanent imprint. But it was absolutely worth it for every buck, every sound, every taste of her passion. This was his wife. His. And on that absolutely caveman thought, he dragged his thumb through her wetness and circled her clit.
She exploded, her inner muscles clamping down, her whole body bowing into him. The aftershocks seemed to go on and on, until at last she lay limp and trembling against his shoulder, breath heaving.
“You are… that was… We’re going to need a defibrillator for the bedroom. If you can do that with your hands and mouth, actually having you inside me may give me a heart attack.”
Despite the total lack of blood supply to his brain, Holt kissed her with smug satisfaction. “Four minutes.”
Cayla made an incoherent noise he eventually identified as a laugh. “Your master plan failed, though.”
“You don’t feel better?”
“I feel amazing. But if you think I’m not going to be thinking about getting you naked even more now, you’re sorely mistaken.”
He grinned. “Worth it.”
“Let me up. I need to clean up before I leave.”
“Just one second.” Reaching beneath her dress, he dragged her panties down and off. “I’m keeping these.”
The fire engine blush on her cheeks when he stuffed them in his pocket was something else that was going to stick with him for the rest of the day.
Holt got his raging hard on under control by the time Cayla had made herself presentable again. Maddie was still glued to Voltron.
“I’m gonna be gone all day for work. You be good for Holt. Okay, baby?”
“Uh huh.”
“Madeleine Faith, I’m speaking to you.”
Maddie dragged her gaze from the TV. “Sorry, Mommy. Have a good day!”
“I probably won’t be back until after dinner. Hugs.”
As soon as Maddie was done squeezing her, Holt stepped up for his turn. “I’ll get by the hardware store sometime today.”
“See that you do.” She framed his face and gave him a lingering kiss. “Incentive.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Then she was gone, and he was alone with his pint-sized charge.
“Okay, Bumblebee, time to get dressed. We’re gonna be at the bakery today.”
“Does that mean I get cake?”
“You’ll have to work for it. I need an assistant baker to help me with recipes today. You up for it?”
“Yeah!” Lured by the prospect of chocolate, she abandoned Voltron and raced for her room.
Brax and Jonah were already at Bad Boy Bakers by the time they arrived. Given the bowls, trays, and other baking implements scattered over work surfaces, they had been for a while.
“Good mornin’, Sunshine,” Jonah announced. “Hi to you, too, Holt.”
Maddie giggled. “Hi! Whatcha makin’?”
“Cat head biscuits.”
Her eyes went huge and horrified. “You’re cooking kitty cats?”
“No! No. They’re really big biscuits. The size of a kitty cat’s head. No kitties were harmed in the making of this breakfast. Cross my heart.” Jonah made an X over his chest and lifted her up so she could see the biscuits baking in one of their industrial ovens.
“The cat head biscuits are delicious but I keep telling him the butter dip tray biscuits are more practical for breakfast sandwiches,” Brax argued. “We can prep the whole thing at once. Less effort, equally delicious. We’re a bakery. We don’t want to have to make the fillings fresh for every order.”
“Yeah, but the cat heads can be made in smaller batches. Until we know what kind of traffic we’re looking at, we don’t want to waste ingredients by overcooking.”
These had become familiar debates as they neared their grand opening. Holt stowed his keys and walked over to his workstation. “What do the numbers say?”
As they talked, Maddie wandered the kitchen, little hands clasped behind her back to keep herself from touching anything. Holt kept half an eye out to make sure she didn’t try to touch the ovens or range while he began gathering ingredients from the storeroom and walk-in cooler. He figured he could make up some fondant for her to use like Play-doh.
“What’s back here?”
“That’s the office,” Brax explained.
She tugged open the door and peered into the tiny room. “Looks like a closet to me.”
“That’s because it was totally a closet,” Holt told her. “We didn’t think about needing office space when we did the renovation, so we kinda had to shoe-horn one in where we could.” They’d fashioned a desk out of a pair of file cabinets with some boards laid over the top. A desktop computer—one of his friend Cash’s cast-offs from his cybersecurity business—sat on top. Shelves of the same iron pipe and pallet board they’d used out front filled the wall above it. It wasn’t anything to write home about, but it was a functional workspace for doing inventory or accounting.
“What about this one?”
“That door goes outside. Technically, it’s our delivery entrance. Mostly, it’s where we go to take out the trash. Which needs doing now.” Holt raised a brow at his partners as he grabbed the bag from the communal can and twisted it closed. “Open the door for me, will you, kiddo?”
She twisted the knob, pushing the door open and holding it for him.
“Thanks.” He strode past her, the bag of trash held high.