Heat Exchange(16)

"Oh."

"Which means you do what I say. So let's test this."

"Um."

"I'm going to sit down on this chair and suckle your tits for a while. After that you can start telling me what to do."

Since she couldn't respond to his statement with anything sensible, she didn't even try. She just nodded.

She stood there while Nyall did what he'd said he would. His tongue and lips pulled at her nipples, first one at a time, switching back and forth between them and rolling with two fingers whichever one he'd abandoned. "Pointy," he murmured. Then he coddled her breasts together and, while she watched in stunned amazement, slipped both nipples into his mouth at once and sucked on them together. She didn't even know something like that could be done. That made her all but run in place. When he finally released her breasts, they were glistening, the nipples red and jutting forward, and Janey was twisting and trembling from head to foot.

"Now," he said huskily. "What do I do?"

Take my virginity. This instant.

"Um…you cream the cheese with the sugar."

"How do I do that?" He stood up and adjusted himself in his jeans.

"Uh…" She had to get a grip. However overstimulated her body was, she trusted that Nyall knew what he was doing. If he thought she needed more time and for things to move slowly, it was probably true.

But she seriously considered jumping on him anyway.

"You're looking at me funny," he said. "Do I have something on my nose?"

"You are a maddening man," Janey said. "I can't think of anything except sex at the moment."

"Now you're getting the idea. So…what do I use?"

She took a deep breath. "First you get a big mixing bowl. Then you take these packages of cream cheese and open them. Use a measuring cup to…"

Twenty minutes later, Nyall turned off the hand mixer and tipped the bowl so she could see its contents. He looked so proud of himself Janey had to smile. He dipped his finger in the golden mixture and lifted it to his mouth to take a taste.

She stopped him. "No. There's raw egg in that. If it were straight from the farm, I'd maybe say go ahead, but this was just from the supermarket down the street."

He paused, struck. "I forgot. How did you pay for all those groceries today?"

"With my credit card," she said, testing the texture of the mixture with a wooden spoon. "It's okay. I'm eating this stuff too and besides, treating you is the least I can do given what you're doing for—"

She was spun around so fast she dropped the spoon on the floor. "Janey," he said cuttingly. "Don't say it."

Her eyes widened. "What? I was just going to say that if you're being nice enough to give up your vacation for me I should pay for—"

He took each of her hands in his and held them pinned behind her on the countertop. "I'm paying for our food. Having you here is not a favor to you. You're here because I want to fuck you."

"That's not true," she said hotly. "You're helping me."

"God help me, I'm trying to. But I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't want in your pants."

"Oh, yeah. Well, I guess, but even so—"

"No. We negotiated our exchange. You teach me to cook, I teach you to fuck. That's it. No paying for crap. You don't owe me anything."

His intensity was rather astonishing. "Why is it such a big deal?"

His expression said he couldn't believe she could ask that. "I am not a gigolo."

"A gigolo?" An involuntary laugh burst from her.

"You didn't hire me. We don't have a business relationship."

"But—but that's not exactly true, is it? You give your mistresses gifts. That's basically a business relationship. Think of the groceries as a gift."

"You. Are. Not. A. Mistress. Did you even read the fucking ground rules? Don't assume anything about us from the women I bed. Go only by the rules. Nothing was said about owing each other anything."

Janey's mouth opened with dawning awareness. "This has to do with your wife, doesn't it?"

His chin jerked back. "What?"

"Amy told me about her." Janey nodded. "She said your wife accused you of being selfish."

"Amy," he muttered. "You are so toast."

"Don't blame Amy. She was helping me. But now I think I've figured something out. Your wife—"

"Ex-wife."

"Your ex-wife when she was your wife made you feel like you weren't generous enough. So now you have to prove you are. So you won't take gifts from people, you just give them."

He stared at her open-mouthed, then burst into laughter. "That's a new one. Sorry, sweetheart, I like getting gifts. Good try, though. Just—do me a favor and get me socks or something. Not groceries. All right?"

"She didn't scar you?" Janey said.

"If Kimberly did anything, it was teach me to establish clearly the terms of every future relationship. Which if you recall I did with you."

"Oh."

"And which you're conveniently forgetting. So maybe I should remind you why we're both here."

She knew what that meant. Her body shivered just at the expectation of what he was going to do.

"Yeah," he drawled. "That's what I'll do. A reminder is definitely in order. Take off that apron." He let go of her hands.

Janey took off the apron.

"That was very, very good," he said. "You didn't even hesitate. Now tell me, do you like games, Janey?"

"Games? You mean like video games?"

"Sure, and board games, RPGs, dice, marbles, Red Rover, whatever."

"Sometimes."

"That's great. We're going to play a game with very simple rules. You're going to give me my instructions for making this cheesecake. Each step in detail, all the way to the end. And if you get to the end and don't skip any steps, you get a reward."

"That sounds easy," she said doubtfully. "Why do I have the feeling there's a catch?"

"Because you're a smart girl." He grinned and then he went down on his knees in front of her.

"Uh, Nyall? Why are you…"

"Ssh. I want you to close your eyes. Keep them closed while we're playing. Now stand there just like that and start telling me what to do. Don't stop for anything. Remember, when you've told me everything, there's a reward waiting for you."

With her eyes closed, she tried to stare through her eyelids. "Why are you holding my hips like that? Nyall, you're not going to —"

"Widen your stance. More. I want your legs wide open. Are your eyes closed? Okay, now…begin."

With her eyes scrunched up, Janey focused on her senses other than vision. She felt a tickle on the hairs curling around her pussy and shuddered.

"What did you just do?" she said.

"I just touched you a little. Don't worry about it. Concentrate on your part. I'll concentrate on mine."

"What's your part?" she squeaked.

"Listening to your instructions."

Janey's forehead wrinkled. She didn't trust his innocent tone one bit.

"Ah. Um, so the next thing to do is preheat the oven." She paused, waiting for something. Nothing happened. Relief made her expel her breath. "You need to turn the oven on by setting it to bake at 450 degrees Fahrenheit. Oh, also make sure the top rack is in the middle of the—"

She broke off as she felt something.

"What was that?" she said quickly.

"Janey." The amusement was pretty obvious in his voice. "The rules are easy. Just keep talking. Remember, if you miss a step the cheesecake could be ruined. So do your job and no. More. Questions."

"In the middle of the oven," she finished. "And, uh, so after that you have to prepare the pan. The pan is round and has a catch with a lever on the side and it's on the counter. Make sure the catch is engaged so the bottom won't fall out. Next to the pan is-ah!"

She broke off at the sudden tingle of pleasure between her legs. Cupping her hands over her eyes to keep them from looking, she struggled to identify it. He'd touched her, she realized belatedly, between the lips of her cleft.

"Nyall," she whispered, "if you do stuff like that I won't be able to concentrate."

"That's the game," he said softly. "Try."

"There's a box of cinnamon graham crackers," she said. "Put all the graham crackers into the gallon plastic bag on—" Janey drew in a breath. Something was sliding back and forth over her clit. It was long and blunt. The sensation was so delicious she gasped.

Waiting for it to stop proved futile. The caress kept happening. Janey realized she was going to have to go on while her clit was being stroked with something hard—his finger, she was almost positive.

"On the counter on the island," she choked out. "Seal up the bag and put it on the counter and…and take the rolling pin and roll it back and forth over the bag using all your weight to press it down until…Nyall…"

"I'm getting this," he said, even as the stroking continued. "You're being very thorough. That's good thinking, since I'm just a beginner."

"Until everything is crushed."

The rhythm changed and now her clit was being circled and the folds around it delicately massaged. That did it; Janey needed a break. Her palms were still blindfolding her eyes because otherwise she'd have to open them and watch what he was doing to her. Her body was responding not just to how he was touching her but to what she knew, or thought, was coming.