I tried to ignore the fact that it was past four o'clock. It was silly to think that someone like Chase would have time on his weekend calendar to hang out in a tiny house sampling baked goods. Just as I pushed away the depressing image of Chase sitting in a swanky club with a girl on his lap and another at his side sipping expensive drinks and forgetting entirely about the girl in the linen apron leaned over a rolling pin and hot stove, a knock on the door startled me. The bear claw I'd been transferring to the cooling rack took a quick exit from the spatula and landed upside down on the wire rack. At least we had our tasting sample.
I'd imagined myself streaked with flour, only to discover, as I looked at my reflection in the oven, that I actually had one streak across my cheek. I lifted the bottom edge of my apron and wiped it off and then remembered that I was wearing the darn apron, complete with buttery grease and strawberry stains.
I untied it and dropped it on the hook in the kitchen. It had been a warm day outside, and my tiny house, with its professional, super powered oven, was hot, so I had dressed in shorts and a tank shirt. Shoes had never been my thing, especially when I baked. I pulled the band out of my hair, and it fell around my shoulders. I couldn't remember a time when I wasn't wearing a ponytail around Chase. It seemed that somehow during my years with Trevor, I'd forgotten how to be sexy. Thinking back, I was far better at flirting and acting sexy when I was in high school. God, was there anything in my life the man hadn't destroyed?
Chase had just lifted his fist to knock again as I swung the door open. I was relieved to see him in shorts and a t-shirt. And he looked incredible no matter what he was wearing.
He pointed behind him. "With the mouthwatering aroma circling your front yard, I'm surprised you don't have a crowd of people standing on the sidewalk trying to get a glimpse or a taste of the sweets inside."
"Actually, you missed the crowd and the parade that followed, where they had me hoisted on a float made of bread dough that was shaped like a brioche." I motioned him in with my head. "You're in luck though. I just made a complete mess of a bear claw. So if you don't mind a less than pretty pastry, I can still guarantee the flavor."
"I can look past the flaws." He followed me to the kitchen. I scooped the broken pastry onto a plate. "Milk?"
"Naturally."
I poured him a glass of milk and led him out to the front room. He sat on the couch, my shabby secondhand find, and looked comically spectacular in the middle of my very unspectacular apartment.
I sat on my knees and faced him as he tasted the bear claw.
"I tried a new ratio of butter, brown sugar and almond paste. I think they are moister now."
Chase was even appealing when he ate. I was going to have to find some irksome habits and traits soon, or I was going to find myself irrevocably smitten. Actually, I worried that that was already the case.
"I assumed a guy who grew up the youngest of four brothers and one with no mom to correct bad habits at the table would eat like a slob. I've seen so many men gobble food like drunken medieval knights just back from a long war, licking their fingers, smacking their lips and barely taking a breath in between. But you savor each bite."
"That's because each bite is worth savoring. But catch me after a long day of rock climbing with a double cheeseburger in front of me, and I would probably live up to those medieval standards just fine."
"You like rock climbing?"
"I do. I find it a nice escape from everyday life. And it's a great way to stay in shape."
"A scary way, you mean. Of course, I'm afraid of heights, so I might be biased in my opinion."
"Believe it or not, I was too."
He finished the bear claw and milk. "I think it had to do with an incident with my older brother. Tommy dangled me off the roof by my ankles. Thought I was a goner for sure. That time, Tommy took the punishment. Not me. When some friends started rock climbing, I decided to take the challenge and face my fear. My fear of heights is gone. Unless Tommy is near, then the whole nightmarish scenario comes right back to me."
I spun around to my bottom and stretched my legs out to rest my feet on the coffee table. Chase drew his gaze along my legs, and I found myself imagining what it would feel like if his hands smoothed over my bare skin.
"How the heck do you stay so thin with all these goodies around you all the time?"
His words popped me out of my temporary sensual daydream.
"I think I'm around the stuff all day, so it's easy not to eat it. It's like when I was little and I watched my mom take just a tiny portion of food on Thanksgiving. She used to say that after spending all darn day with her hand up a turkey, she just didn't feel much like eating it. I think it's the same way with me. My hands are always covered with sticky dough and sugar. It's easy not to eat too much of it."
Chase tilted his jaw to the side. "Huh, I'm not so sure that's a good theory. I'm surrounded by erotic stuff all day, new toys, lotions, sexy lingerie." He winked at me. "Pleasure devices. But I still love to have sex." He stopped and dropped his gaze to the glass of milk in his hand. "I probably should have stopped that stupid analogy before it actually left my mouth."
I laughed. "No, it's not stupid. I think it's cool that you have a job that gives you so much pleasure." It was my turn to wink. The oven timer rang. "I need to get the last batch out of the oven." I walked to the kitchen and was more than a little aware of his footsteps behind me. I pulled the heavy tray out of the oven. He closed the door for me as I placed the pan on the stove. "Sorry it's so hot in here."
"I'm not." There was a change in his tone that could not be ignored. He took hold of my hands the second they were free from my oven mitts. A quick tug and I was pressed up against him.
He leaned down to kiss me, but seconds later, he lifted his mouth away. "You're right. It's very hot in here. Let's go back out to the couch." He took hold of my hand and led me out to the front room, but before we could sit he had me back in his arms.
This time as his mouth caressed mine, his hands wasted no time dipping under my shirt. He knew his way confidently around the contours of my body, touching with just the right amount of pressure to start a fever in my pussy.
I peeled my mouth away from his and stared up into his green eyes. "How do you do that? How do you know exactly what to do to get my pulse racing?"
"Your pulse isn't racing yet, Macy. Let me show you. Can I?"
"Yes, please. And you don't need to treat me like I'm breakable or like I'll fall to pieces. Being a virgin doesn't make me fragile."
He smiled. "Too much handling with care going on?"
I nodded.
"Guess this is new to me."
I curled my arms around his neck. "You think this is new to you, you should be standing in my shoes."
Chase tilted his head to the side. "Don't think you're wearing any shoes, darlin'." Then, without warning, he lifted me into his arms. The nice thing about a tiny house was that a bedroom didn't need to be pointed out. Chase had to turn sideways to carry me down the hallway without crowning my head on the doorjamb.
"Did you bring protection?" It was a question I'd never had to ask before, and I felt a little embarrassed about asking it. I felt so unsophisticated and behind the times.
"Won't need it. Today is all about you, my pure little angel."
Chapter Fourteen
Chase
Macy stretched out on her bed, but there was a certain amount of nervousness in the sweet smile she cast my direction. I lay down on my side next to her. I leaned over and kissed her lips lightly. "First of all, you need to relax."
"Right." She took a deep breath, a breath that pushed her breasts snugly against her tank shirt. This sure as hell was going to be a test of my self-control. But I'd told myself on the drive over that I wasn't going to do anything to mess this up. I wanted to get to know Macy, both emotionally and physically, and I couldn't remember the last time I felt that way about any woman. But when it came to sex, we were from two different worlds, and there was no way I was going to bring her into my world by pushing her too fast. She had way too many things to discover first about her own needs. And I was going to help her find them.
I moved slowly at first, pushing her shirt up above her bra.
Macy popped her head off the pillow and stared down at her exposed stomach. "Just checking. Nope. It doesn't say fragile or handle with care, remember?"
I smiled and felt just a little embarrassed. She was right. I was treating her like she was a priceless piece of porcelain, never touched by human hands.
"Macy, has a man ever made you come before?"
She bit her bottom lip. I worried I'd just asked the wrong question. She shook her head without lifting it from the pillow.
I leaned down and kissed her, gently stroking her lips with my tongue. "May I do the honors, then?"
"Yes," she said it quietly, but there was no hesitation.
I pushed her hair back and kissed her neck. "Then relax," I whispered. My breath against her skin caused a shiver to race through her. How badly I wanted her to be naked in my arms when her body trembled like that.
"Can I take off your shirt and shorts?"
Without a verbal answer, she helped me slip her tank shirt off. I reached down and undid the button on her shorts. Her hands reached down. I waited to see if she was planning to stop me. Instead, she shimmied out of the shorts, leaving behind a pale pink pair of panties, sheer enough to give me a tantalizing view of her pussy.