Don’t Go Away Mad by Lacey Black

Chapter Twenty-One

Jasper

“Hey, guys, good to see you again,” I say after watching Lyndee retreat into the small employee bathroom on the opposite side of the kitchen. I lean forward against the island to cover my erection, knowing it’s quickly deflating now that we’re no longer alone. “How was dinner?”

“So amazing,” Dana coos, her hand tucked in Dustin’s arm. “The Ride A Cowboy Burger was perfect.”

“I’m glad,” I reply, looking at Lyndee’s brother. I can tell already he’s aware that something was going on in here. He’s smirking, his eyes darting around, as if looking for confirmation.

“Where’s Lyn?”

“Oh, she had to use the restroom. She’ll be out in a minute.”

“You guys baked the cake,” he notices, using his walker to go over and check them out. “Cherry Chip is her favorite.”

“I can’t wait to try it.”

“You’ll be there for it tomorrow, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I tell him as the bathroom door opens.

“Hi, guys,” Lyndee greets, a too-wide smile on her face. “How was dinner?”

“Excellent,” Dana replies.

When she stops beside me, she asks, “What wouldn’t you miss?”

“Cake tomorrow night.”

“You don’t have plans? It’s Christmas Eve.” Her brown eyes find mine and hold a touch of hesitance.

I shrug. I go to my folks’ place on Christmas Day, but that’s it. “I always work Christmas Eve. We close the kitchen down at seven and the bar at eight. I should be out around then.  You don’t have to wait for me, but I’d love to join the celebration when I get home.”

Home.

I never thought I’d be comfortable talking about my place and a woman being there, waiting for me, but surprisingly, I am. Not the first time I’ve realized this, but it still doesn’t freak me out.

“We usually just do takeout on Christmas Eve, since Lyn cooks on Christmas Day,” Dustin informs me. “We can hold off until you get home. Seems more fitting to have you there anyway.”

I swallow over the lump in my throat. “Don’t wait on me for dinner, though. You should eat whenever you’re ready.”

Dustin glances at Dana. “Would you like to come over for dinner and cake?” Then seeming to realize it’s not his house, he glances my way and adds, “If you’re okay with that.”

“Of course, I am. Dana, or anyone else, is welcome while you’re staying with me. My place is your place.”

He nods and glances at his date. “Actually, we were thinking about going back to your house and grabbing a cup of coffee…if that’s okay.”

“My home is your home. You don’t have to ask.”

“Thank you, Jasper,” Dana adds, glancing to Dustin. “And I’d love to join you tomorrow, as long as you’re okay with my dropping by on your birthday.” She looks at Lyndee, who seems surprised to be asked for permission.

“I’d love for you to be there.”

“Great. I think we’re going to go and let you two decorate that cake. I can’t wait to try it. It looks amazing,” Dana says, moving to where Dustin stands.

“See you at home,” he hollers on his way out the door, offering a wave before they disappear.

Lyndee heads over to the cakes and slips them in the freezer. “What are you doing?” I ask, completely mesmerized by her movements.

“Putting them in the freezer helps them cool faster. Plus, cold cake works better for frosting. If it’s too fresh or warm, it’ll peel the top of the cake off.”

I head her way, dipping my finger in the buttercream as I pass. “So, what you’re saying is we have a little time.”

Her grin borders on shy, but quickly tips into seductive. “A little. Why, what’d you have in mind?”

I slide that finger across her lips, and then lick it off, savoring the sweet taste of the frosting and that of Lyndee’s mouth. “Delicious.” Then I move my hands to her head and devour. I could kiss her hot mouth all day, every day. She’s seriously the sweetest thing ever.

Pinning her against the island, I reach down and lift, loving the way her legs automatically wrap around my waist once more. I can feel the warmth of her pussy permeating through her pants, and all I want to do is feel it cloak my dick.

“Are we going to be interrupted anymore?”

She shakes her head, her fingers gripping the back of my neck. “We’re completely alone.”

I step back, leaving her sitting on the island, and move to make sure the back door is locked. I reach down and tug my shirt out of my slacks, lifting it up and over my head before I’ve returned to where I left her.

“Will you remove that door stop?” she asks, pointing to the little triangle of rubber holding open the swinging door that separates the front room from the kitchen.

I kick the stop, leaving it lie where it lands, and return to the woman who has my blood humming and my dick harder than concrete. I step between her knees, her legs automatically wrapping around me. She reaches for me, her nails dragging lazily down my back as I explore her mouth with my tongue.

The kiss quickly turns rapacious, and I need more. I need her naked, riding my cock and screaming my name. I dig in my pocket and remove the condom I shoved in there earlier. No, I wasn’t sure it would be needed, but a man can hope.

And I was hoping like hell.

Lyndee reaches down and removes her shirt, setting it on the cold metal behind her. Then she reaches for me, grabbing at my belt and ripping it from my pants with urgent fingers. My own hands, lacking any and all finesse, tug at the button of her pants until it pops off. “Shit,” I mumble, chuckling.

“I don’t care,” she replies, lifting her hips as I slip down the zipper.

“I can sew it back on for you later,” I tell her, catching the look of surprise on her face.

“You sew?”

I shrug, removing her panties too, as I bring the pants down her legs. “My grandma taught me when I was younger.”

“I thought you didn’t have a grandma,” she says, setting her butt back down on the island once her pants reach her ankles. The cold steel causes her to squeal and jump.

Smiling, I tell her, “I don’t anymore. She died when I was twelve. She was the one who insisted I know how to wash my own clothes, sew my own buttons, and cook my own food.”

“Wow, a man who can cook and sew? How did I get so lucky?” As soon as her words register in her own mind, she stops, a look of panic crossing her face.

I know why. She’s worried about the implication we’re together.

Deciding not to let her dwell on it, I give her a teasing grin. “Well, you’re not lucky yet, but you will be soon.” I toe off my shoes, shove my pants down to my ankles, and sheath my cock in protection, while stepping out of the bunched material at my feet.

Lyndee unhooks her bra, scoots forward, and tilts her hips my way. I can see the wetness of her beautiful pussy glistening under the fluorescent lighting. My mouth waters. If I weren’t already so crazed to get inside her, I’d take my time, teasing and licking her until she was boneless and sated beneath me.

But now’s not the time.

Now, my need for her is too great to ignore.

I take my place between her thighs and stroke my cock through her wetness. Goosebumps rise on her delicate skin. They make her nipples pebble even harder. I push forward, filling her completely in one thrust. Our moans fill the space as I reach for the back of her neck, needing to feel her skin under my hand.

I set a fast, possessive pace. I can’t help it. She brings out this side of me, this desire to claim. I need to have her, make her mine. Make her come around me. It’s quickly becoming an obsession.

She’smy obsession.

Lyndee leans back on her hands and locks her ankles behind my ass. The angle sends me deeper, allows me to drive harder. Placing my hands on the cool steel, I thrust forward, feeling the way her body starts to grip me. “Are you going to come, sweets?” I ask, mesmerized by the look of euphoria on her gorgeous face.

“Yes.”

“Do it now,” I direct, swiping a thumb over her swollen clit. The result causes her to clamp down on me like a vise. The squeeze makes it hard for me to move inside of her, but the feel of her tightness strangling me is enough to bring my own release to the surface.

“Ahhhh,” she cries out, rocking her hips as she comes on my cock.

My balls tighten and tingles race up my spine. I rocket forward, hollering out as my release ricochets through me, completely out of control. The hand still holding the back of her neck tightens, but not enough to hurt her. My mouth descends, covering hers, as we both gasp for oxygen and ride out our orgasms. When my hips finally stop moving, all I feel is a sense of wonderment and satisfaction, both because of the woman and not just the sex.

“Well, that’s something I’ve never done in the kitchen,” she whispers, humor laced in her words.

“No?” I ask, smiling as I slide my lips across hers.

“Uh, no,” she states, running her fingers across my shoulders.

“Well, me either, sweets. Probably has something to do with health code violations,” I tease, remaining perfectly still to keep myself buried inside of her as long as possible.

Lyndee groans. “Oh my God, I can’t believe we just did that here. In my kitchen. I’m going to have to do a deep clean and sanitization.”

I can’t help but snort. “You said deep.”

She swats at my arm, causing me to step back, dislodging myself from her body. I reach for her hand and help her up, though her legs resemble that of a baby deer trying to stand for the first time. They’re all wobbly and unsteady.

And cute.

So sexy, with wetness dripping down her thighs, making me want to fuck her all over again, location be damned.

Fuck, I have it bad.

“Let’s get cleaned up so we can disinfect,” I state, leading her to the small bathroom.

Inside, she grabs a towel and wets it with warm water, while I remove the condom and wrap it in toilet paper. The last thing we need is for someone like her brother to find it tossed in here. I make a mental note to take the small trash bag with me when I leave.

Once we’re both cleaned up, I retrieve our discarded clothes. As I dress again, I can’t help but steal glances of her. She’s quickly turning my entire world upside down, and even if I wanted to, there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it. I think about her day and night, and now that I’ve been inside her, it’s worse. I crave her, like an alcoholic needs booze. She’s my hit.

My drug.

I’m dressed first and go in search of her cleaning supplies. I find the closet beside the bathroom and get to work on sanitizing the workspace we just contaminated with potential bodily fluids, all while smirking, because I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Lyndee grabs the mop and Lysol, cleaning the floors until they shine. When we’re done and all the supplies are put back where they belong, I pull her into my arms. “This was the most fun I’ve ever had baking a cake.”

She giggles, resting her cheek against my arm. “I’ve made a lot of cakes in my time, but never like this.”

“We should do it again, don’t you think?” I ask, only partially kidding.

“Maybe at your place next time.”

“Deal,” I reply, kissing the top of her head. “What do you say we finish up so we can head out. I’m really looking forward to you sleeping in my bed with me tonight.”

She glances up, her eyebrows drawn together in question. “I don’t recall you asking me.”

“Did you not sleep well the last time?” I ask, realizing I’m more concerned about her comfort than my own.

“No, I did,” she says, a coy smile spreading across her lips. “Too well.”

“Me too,” I confess, reaching for the bowl of icing and giving it a stir. “I slept better those few hours than I have in years.” It’s not a lie, and I’m hoping tonight would have the same effect.

She gives me a soft grin that makes my heart skip a beat before turning her attention back to the cake. I watch as she retrieves the three pans from the freezer and plops them down on a piece of round cardboard that sits on a spinning tray. She trims the tops so they sit flat and fills a bag with icing. Then the real magic happens.

Lyndee moves efficiently and quickly, layering cake and icing until it’s complete. “You want to do this part?” she asks, handing me a flat scraper tool.

“Tell me what to do.”

She starts to slowly spin the cake, squeezing the bag and zigzagging a thick line of icing on the side. Then she does the same to the top, making circles nestled inside each other. “Gently place the spreader like this,” she says, demonstrating, “And smooth the icing while it spins.”

I take the spreader and step up to the tray. I give it a gentle spin and give it a try. The icing is wavy, but it’s there. “Well, looks like I won’t be inducted into the cake decorating hall of fame,” I state with a laugh.

“It’s not tt-terrible,” she stutters, trying to cover a giggle with a cough.

“It looks crooked,” I insist, smiling.

“Here.” She takes the spreader and gets to work, righting the horrible job I did on the icing. She has the sides and top smooth in seconds like the true professional she is. Leaning against the counter to watch her work, she places a star-like tip onto the bag and adds piping along the bottom and top of the cake. “Will you cut those cherries in half?” she asks, pointing to the remaining cherries.

I grab a paring knife and slice the fruit in half, tossing the stems into the empty jar. Lyndee places the pieces along the piping and gives me a smile when it’s complete. “Can we eat it now?” I ask, returning her grin.

“No,” she giggles, carefully placing the cake inside a box.

“But…we can take this leftover icing, right?” I waggle my eyebrows, loving the happy little sound that spills from her lips.

She closes the lid and glances over her shoulder. “We wouldn’t want it to go to waste, right?” she states with a wink, grabbing a small container for the leftovers.

“And these cherries too. I want to eat them off your tits.”

She barks out a laugh, a cute blush creeping up her neck as she bats her eyelashes. “Maybe I want to eat them off you.”

I groan at the thought of her tongue on me, my cock jumping to attention like a good soldier. “Let’s go. We’ve got a date with icing and cherries.”