TUESDAY: A Double Shot (Hookup Café Book 2) Page 4

  To my delight, once we arrived back at the hotel with the help of an Uber driver, Avery was in tuned with me and did not ask for my car at the valet stand but walked me straight inside to a set of elevators. Up, we stepped into a suite that looked more like a nicely decorated apartment with a kitchen, dining room and living room with a sectional sofa with its back to floor to ceiling paneled windows that had one pane that opened a bit to let in fresh air. All of the windows had an amazing view to the harbor, but the before ones had the best—the day light view had to be jaw-droppingly picturesque. But I hadn’t come up with him to enjoy the room or its surroundings, I was looking forward to experiencing sex in a bed with a man that I knew had great delivery skills.

  Chapter Six…

  And while I was totally excited to rip our clothes off and get entangled in the expensive—I speculated—high-thread count sheets on the bed, I was wondering why he hadn’t taken me to his place.

  “Sure you’re not married? Bringing me to a hotel.” I faced him with my arms folded across my chest, standing my ground before letting him sample my goodies.

  “I’m between houses at the moment and staying with a friend.” Why would a man with his wealth stay with a friend? Something didn’t sound right about that.

  “Friend? Male or female?” Maybe an ex-girlfriend was letting him bunk with her.

  “A very male…” He laughed stepping towards me and taking me into his arms. “Friend that has a revolving door of women and guys coming over to play video games.”

  Somehow Avery didn’t strike me as a video game player and I had a hard time picturing him in a guy’s basement on a dirty couch with a game controller in his hand. Beer bottles, empty food containers… maybe a pool table and cheesy vinyl bar. My imagination ran to every scenario I had ever seen in guy-buddy-flicks. He told me about a totally different scene from what I had envisioned. The guy, at thirty, was a millionaire many times over simply from playing video games professionally and making money from sponsorship deals since he was in his early twenties. He had a state of the art house driven by the latest technology; Tony Stark’s house minus the amazing hilltop ocean view. And the biggest plus for Avery was that he was gone on the weekends traveling to game conventions and tournaments all over the world and when the guy was home, Avery was out of the house, working.

  “Play games with him?” I asked as he moved out of my reach and disappeared.

  Slipping out of my shoes, I padded in the direction he went for an answer and to see what he was up to—getting naked apparently. As I walked through the entrance to the bedroom, he continued to speak, not that I really cared to know the answer to my question anymore. But I listened.

  “He and his friends are out of my league. Gave up years ago. Although, they do like a good laugh every now and again so they have asked me to grab a controller. Usually, they take it away as fast as they give it because I am too painful to watch.”

  I couldn’t imagine anything about him being painful to watch. Seeing him minus clothing sipping from a glass of wine that seemed to appear from nowhere, I removed my own as he watched, intently. His eyes never waned as I moved my chestnut brown hair to the side, then reached up and unbuttoned the halter strap around my neck allowing my breast to be exposed. Closely fitted to the rest of my body, I had to shimmy it down over my curvy hips before it could pool at my ankles. Standing before him, I ran my hands over my breasts, cupping them, squeezing them gently, then after lightly pinching my nipples, I moved them slowly over my body. I didn’t get very far south before a commanding voice, which I loved, made his demand perfectly clear.

  “Stop! Come look at the view.”

  “I am enjoying the view from here…” And I was—of him. “I imagine you want to fuck me pressed up against the glass… but… No. Thank. You. While I think it’s a sexy idea, I have no desire to fall several stories, naked, to my death.”

  “I assure you the glass is perfectly safe, thick and supported by steel framing.”

  “You will never convince me.” I stood my ground even though my body was aching to feel his hard body and length pressed up against mine. “Ever since I made a trip to Paris for a pastry class taught by an amazing pastry chef—Phoebe Talcott…” I laughed. “All the way to France to learn from an American in Paris. Anyhow, I stopped in New York on the way back and stayed in a high-rise hotel. I couldn’t see the full-length of my outfit so I climbed up on a window ledge and then noticed the straight down view. It was a near-death experience I don’t wish to experience.”

  Even his finger curling for me to come to him with a sexy-as-fuck look on his face while I spoke didn’t do the trick, I didn’t budge an inch.

  “You’re going to make me come to you, aren’t you?” His steps were slow and had me swallowing hard as the muscles on his chest and stomach constricted. “If I want to sample your frosting you’re going to make me work for it.” My breathing increased as he neared. “I can do that.” His dark eyes penetrated me before the rest of him ever got a chance.

  By the time he finally reached me, my heart was pounding erratically in my chest and pulsating all the way down between my legs. My body was on fire and ready to combust with just a little bit of attention… a touch of his hand… his lips. He was still in slow mode as he aligned his body as closely to me as possible without connecting.

  I was the first to break the stand-off, pushing my flesh into his, letting my hands skyrocket into his thick hair, I pulled his head down and attacked his mouth with mine. And that was all it took for Avery to sprint into action with his arms around me, lifting my one leg to move us in closer. I moaned at the feel of his cock rubbing perfectly over my clit until my first orgasm of the night rolled out. Then with the lift of my other leg, my legs were wrapped around his waist and he was on the move to the bed—thankfully not to the window.

  Laid out, he released my mouth from his and headed down my body, caring for every inch of my flesh with murmurs of how good I felt… how good I tasted. Nipples satisfied with the loving attention he exhibited to them he moved to nibbling on my hip bones and then reached… “Your cookie, smells delicious,” his words and lips caressed me to perfection. Giving me number two… and then number three orgasm as he refused to be done with just one and added his fingers to the spot that had me screaming his name along with “no more” and “more”—something I was never able to do in my café kitchen.

  “Is it no more or more, Frosting?” He smirked, looking up at me—trying to focus.

  “More… so much more,” were the last discernible words that came from me as he made his way up my body sheathed with a condom on his massive erection. The weight of him on top of me, had me entwining my legs with his, impatiently wanting him inside. Slow movements were suddenly gone as he thrusted deep in me. “Yes,” I hissed as he moved with such force that brought friction to every nerve ending that was ready to be triggered and ignited. The fire within my body was roaring with each stroke of his cock back and forth, causing sparks and flames to heat me like I had never been before, that the final result of us coming together was like an explosion. I was sure that my “Oh my God, Avery” reverberated throughout the entire suite and may have echoed out into the hallway, and down the elevator shaft to the lobby. And that was just the beginning—he set a few more fires until we burnt out, fizzled, and passed out. My pastry kitchen had never been that hot!

  Nor was it the next morning when Avery helped me bake at Cafélicious after a quick but invigorating shower together that involved me on my knees. No sex with us in my kitchen was a miracle but I anticipated more later after we completed the baking and prep for Monday morning. He had already made me promise to spend the rest of the day with him at the hotel soaking up the sun at the rooftop pool along with indulging in drinks and poolside cuisine, followed by bed play which arrived before the sun went down. The sunset was just as spectacular tangled together on crumpled sheets.

  “You should take Saturday’s off—it doesn’t seem as busy as weekdays
.”

  “It’s not, but I have so many new orders during the week that it’s become more of a prep day so that I have extra dough made up for the weekdays.”

  “Perfect. Hire another intern. Let them run things on Saturday and prep.”

  I had started referring to my mom lately since my mini-cakes had captured so much attention. People wanted big cakes and no-no-no—that was not something I wanted to do. I had given in to one person and it came out great, but I hated every minute. I love them small and cute!

  “Another person… it’s my responsibility… my pastry kitchen… I already have been imposing on my mother… shucking off jobs.”

  “Your mom can handle it. You told me she hired three interns to help her.”

  She had to with her appearances and travels. She seemed to be on the go all of the time now. I wasn’t even sure my parents were together anymore either. My mother hadn’t mentioned my father in weeks. I knew something was going on that she wasn’t telling me.

  “You need help. What if you get sick or slip and break something…”

  “… Bite your tongue, don’t say that! I have not been sick since… I don’t even remember the last time. But you’re right Saturday is slow—more about the restaurant side—with people wanting more than pastry for breakfast. Even Vin has been talking about bringing in another intern… I’ll call the culinary school on Monday and I can train them to do everything so I can take Saturdays off and they can do all the major prep for the following week. Maybe I can even work shorter hours during the week with prep at a minimal. I can even concentrate more on my marzipan specialty which is being called for more and more.”

  “Your name is perfect for you; you were named perfectly, Marzipan.”

  That was it the end of our conversation because I turned into an emotional wreck crying and mumbling. “She named me… my mother… gone… and I’ve betrayed her… her gift of love… theirs… horrible daughter.”

  “I’m not sure what you are saying but I think you’re a wonderful person. I love you, Marzi.”

  I shook my head against his chest and wept more. “No more talking,” I whimpered out and he turned things around quickly with kisses to every part of my body making it all better and igniting a scorching fire between us.

  Cooled off somewhere in the middle of the early morning hours, once he had fallen into a deep sleep, I slipped out, and made my way home. I needed some time alone after my emotional breakdown in front of Avery. It was nice to have him hold me but I hadn’t told him about my new discovery; my betrayal to my aunt, my homeless status (even with Pansie’s place), and needing to find a place to call home eventually. Hell, even he was without a home at the moment and was taking me to hotels to fuck. We were just trying out the dating thing, who knew where it was going. Did I want it to go somewhere? I’d be lying if I said no. He said he’d fallen in love with me and I was pretty sure I felt the same way about him, but we needed to take things slowly. Well, maybe not the sex part. We had that going for us and it was fucking amazing! It was the getting to know each other better, opening up more, letting the cats out of the bag, airing the dirty laundry, etcetera, etcetera—that was going to take time. I took the morning hours in my bed to think about becoming an us along with taking weekends off to make it happen.

  Chapter Seven…

  Awaking early, because it’s just impossible for me to sleep in, I showered and got dressed in a cute sundress thinking that maybe I would go for a walk or go to the beach. Actually, I was ready in case Avery called and asked me to run back to him—meet him somewhere. When my phone rang as I sat drinking a cup of coffee while I wrapped some glassware I had sitting on my dining table with a few newspapers I had purchased during the week, I was happy to see Avery’s name. Happy that I had allowed him to program his number in my phone since I never had it before. Well, I guess I did have it for ordering restaurant supplies. Either way, I was thrilled to answer his call.

  “Where did you run off to, Frosting? Please tell me you are not at the café.” It was the first time that I had heard his voice gruff. He did not sound happy at all.

  “I had to go home to feed my cat.” I laughed.

  “You don’t have a pet.” I could hear a change in his tone like he was on the verge of laughing, but still trying to keep the upper-hand. “I wanted to have you for breakfast… breakfast in bed.”

  “We can meet for breakfast. Be at the Villa Nueva on Orange on the island in twenty minutes. I’ll head over to get us a table.” I was ready to walk out the door once I slipped into my strappy flat sandals and zipped them up.

  “Why there… You like to check out the competition?” He laughed with a sexy smirk. “Not that I think anyone bakes like you do.” I had a feeling he was not speaking about my baking skills but more about having me naked while I created sweets to delight my customers.

  “It’s close to my house and I like the sidewalk café atmosphere and they have many yummy offerings on their menu. Besides, I’ve been craving their salmon toast lately… and their fruit tarts… If you want to pick another place just say so.”

  “You’re a little feisty already this morning.”

  “I’m starving!” My voice was higher than usual.

  “Okay, let’s get you fed. Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?”

  “No, I’ll see you on Orange Avenue.”

  Walking out my front door, I walked to my gravel stripped driveway cut out of a green lawn and uncovered Cherry, my inherited bright red convertible Super Beetle. Unlocking the door, I unhinged the white canvas top, I lifted and pushed it back to its rest spot behind the backseat, tucking down its locking hinges. Then I climbed in, sat behind the wheel on a white leatherette seat, slipped on my sunglasses, and started her up. As soon as she roared to life, I popped her into reverse and backed out of the driveway. Then in gear, we made our way to the main street of the downtown area. Driving around the block a few times for parking, I finally found a slot and pulled in—right behind the breakfast spot. Parking is not always easy to find on the touristy island.

  After pulling the top up and locking the car, I walked around the block to the front of the café and then went in to order a decaf coffee—any more than what I had at home and the jitters would kick in. Waiting to snag a spot after doctoring my coffee with cream and half a packet of raw sugar, I stood outside and scrolled down the social media page for a Pastry and Baking magazine on my phone when it began to ring.

  “I’m running late but I’ll be there soon. There’s something blocking traffic on the bridge and I’m stuck in the middle of it.”

  “Oh! Don’t tell me that! That’s my greatest fear.”

  “Another phobia? I thought it was only the one fear; naked-glass-fucking-at-great-heights?” I could tell he was smiling by the tone of his voice—I was getting used to his variety of sounds.

  “Bridges are worse for me.” I was dead serious.

  “You’ll have to tell me all about it when I get there. Moving now. Be there soon.”

  I hoped that he would be and that whatever disaster had happened was cleared. If I was him I would’ve been in panic mode deciding whether to abandon my car and walk even though you may not walk across the bridge but once a year when they have an event, some walk/run/bike thing. But if there is an emergency, surely, people would be allowed to vacate their automobiles. My mind was running crazy until I felt two strong arms wrap around me attached to a familiar scent.

  “I thought you were going to get us a table… there’s one, we better grab it.”

  “I was so caught up… I hadn’t noticed anyone move. I’ll sit and you go order…”

  “… I remember salmon toast and a fruit tart. Be right back.” He didn’t forget.

  Order in, he came back with a cup of coffee complete with a double shot, and a number card. Damn! He looked so hot in a fitted t-shirt and a pair of designer walking shorts and loafers. He was looking very beachy, resort-ish sitting across from me wearing a nice pair of
Persol sunglasses. It was a perfect day; not too hot to sit on the front patio table, partially shaded, and spending it with Avery.

  “So this bridge phobia… does it restrict you from taking a trip down to the Florida Keys with me along a seven miles stretch, all bridge?”

  “I hear it’s beautiful, we can take a boat.”

  “So you’re not afraid of the deep waters?”

  “No, it’s the plunging off the bridge in a car and not being able to escape because the windows won’t roll down.”

  “We could rent a convertible sports car—it’s a beautiful drive.”

  I shook my head, I wanted no part. “The seatbelts might not release.”

  Not letting up, with a less than smiling face, he asked, “Did you experience something… or someone you know have this happen to them?”

  “No, just from movies. I think about them every day that I cross the bridge for work. Flying off. Plunging. Hitting. Sinking. Window stuck. Drowning.”

  “It’s not easy to go over the side of the Coronado Bridge.”

  “Logical or not, it’s in my head.”

  Shaking his head, grinning. “There’s a lot going on in your head.”

  “Yes, there is… too much at the moment.”

  “Have you ever thought of moving off the island so you never have to make the bridge trip?”

  “I love the island.” My chest tightened. “I might be leaving it, but very reluctantly.” I sighed and hoped that tears wouldn’t fall at the thought of disappointing Aunt Moreen with my decision to sell her house. Then by a miracle, a server arrived with delicious smelling plates of yummies. “Oh, good! Food! No more talking about unpleasantries.”