Spice (5 page)

He scooped her up, walking deeper into the main room. She wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him for all she was worth, pressing herself against him, needing him inside her.

Still devouring her mouth, he balanced her on the back of the sofa. “Can't go slow right now,” he muttered against her mouth as he tore open a condom.

“You've been working me up all night,” she shot back. “I don't need slow right now. I just need you to fuck me.”

“Then turn around,” he growled. “Bend over the couch.”

With a little mewl of approval she did, widening her stance, waiting and ready. A thrill of anticipation gripped her as she waited for him to slip on the condom.

“Nadia.” He slid a hand slowly down her back, stopping at her waist. “You're so beautiful. Every part of you. Especially this part.”

The blunt head of his cock slipped between her thighs. She was so slick, so ready for him, that it didn't take much coaxing to breach her. That first full stretching moment of penetration had her groaning loudly at the oh-my-God fullness. “God, Kane, that feels so good.”

“Better than good. Better than great.” His voice was a guttural grumble as he withdrew then thrust forward again, sliding fully home. He rocked against her, hands gripping her waist to hold her in place for each sensual slap of his body against hers. Rocking, rocking, rocking, then pleasure so fine she couldn't even cry out. Her hands dug into the sofa cushions as her inner muscles tightened around him, squeezing him.

“Nadia.” One hand slipped around her hip, fingers unerringly finding the center of her pleasure. The other hand gripped her shoulder for purchase as he increased the pace and force of his thrusts, driving into her in the relentless pursuit of ecstasy. His voice, low and breathless and hypnotic, wrapped around her, telling her how good she felt, how tight she was, how close to the edge she made him. She could only moan her agreement as she fell deeper and deeper beneath his sensual spell.

With multiple waves of pleasure rolling through every part of her body, she danced a razor's edge between being in the moment and being catapulted out of it. So close, so close . . .

“Oh God.
Kane
. Oh God, oh God, oh God . . .” The orgasm hit her like a sucker punch low in the gut. She threw back her head with a guttural cry, arching her back and grinding her buttocks against his groin to wring out every bit of sensation.

Kane gripped her shoulders as he pistoned into her in a maddening pace, the slapping of their bodies loud in the open living room. With her orgasm still shredding her senses, her inner muscles continued to spasm around his thickness. “God, Nadia,” he breathed. “Want to last . . . longer. But can't. Can't. Have to, have to . . .”

His hands dug into her collarbone as he slammed into her one final time, the force of it moving the couch several inches. With a deep rumbling groan he came, pulsing deep inside her and touching off another ripple of bliss.

Spent, overwhelmed, she collapsed against the back of the sofa, dimly aware of Kane easing out of her. Struggling to catch her breath and gather her shattered senses, Nadia could only think one thing: Professor Kaname Sullivan had definitely made the grade.

N
adia put the last pan of Wide-Eyed muffins into the oven, dancing as her tablet shuffled through her “shake and bake” baking music mix. She and her assistant Jas always started their very early day with upbeat music because she didn't want to bake while in a bad mood, believing it transferred to her pastries. A silly superstition, perhaps, but she'd learned that from her grandmother and no one argued with Nana Elena. No one ever left the café in a bad mood either.

She joined Bruno Mars singing about sex and paradise as she began to cut the dough for organic fruit turnovers. Jas entered the kitchen, grinning at her as he pulled on his apron then tucked his black bangs beneath a hairnet. “Morning, boss! I guess I don't have to ask you how well it went last night, huh?”

“How do you know about that?” she demanded, not really angry. “You weren't even here yesterday!”

“Two local celebrities hooking up is big news in a small town, even a small college town like Crimson Bay,” her assistant said, turning on the faucet at the wash-up sink. “More than a few people saw you guys at Pascal's last night.”

“I'm not a celebrity,” Nadia argued, feeling her stomach tighten. She didn't want to be the town's entertainment. Been there, done that, bore the scars.

Jas stared at her in surprise. “Of course you are. You're the goddess of goodies, the queen of croissants, the princess of pastries, the star of
Spice of Life
. And the professor, well, you know what his fans call him.”

The Spice of Life with Nadia Spiceland
. Her very own show, with cooking segments interspersed with trawling the party scene most twenty-somethings in Los Angeles gravitated to, was her prize for winning a reality television cooking competition that had catapulted her younger, stupider self to a level of fame she'd been ill-prepared for. “That was a long time ago, Jas,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “I'm not that person anymore. I'm just a café owner now.”

Jas rolled his eyes. “If you're looking at me to blow your skirt up with compliments, I guess I will. Even if you weren't a reality show graduate, you'll never be ‘just a café owner.' You've got way too much skill for that. I hope to be half as good as you when I grow up. Am I done kissing ass now?”

Nadia laughed and swatted at him with her hand towel. “You are
so
done. Now get to work on your brizzas.” The breakfast pizzas had become a big hit for cash-strapped college kids who needed a healthy, inexpensive option to start their mornings off right.

Successfully dodging questions she wasn't ready to answer, Nadia threw herself into the routine of prepping, baking, and staging. Just before opening for business she pulled out her phone, took a picture of the Wide-Eyed muffins, then sent the photo to her father Victor, with the message:
These turned out great! Thanks for the name. See you soon. Smooches!

Less than a minute later, Victor replied.
Told you so. :p Can't wait for the next one. Smooches back at you.

Smiling, Nadia slipped her phone back into her pocket and went out to open the café. Daddy Vic had always experimented in the kitchen, with Nadia at his side as soon as she could hold a spoon. As she and Siobhan had planned the menu at the café, she'd sent photos and ingredient lists to both her fathers. It had been as much to solicit their suggestions as to prove that she and Siobhan were handling the pressures of starting their own business. They'd always worry—and God knew she'd given them plenty to worry about—but at least they didn't hover or do random drive-bys from two hours away.

At eight o'clock, just when the first rush slowed down, Siobhan entered the café. “You've got until the time it takes me to make a cup of coffee, and then you're going to spill,” her partner said as she rounded the counter.

Nadia rolled her eyes. “Good morning. How are you? I'm fine, thanks for asking.”

“I don't need to ask how you're doing. Everyone who comes in the store is blinded by that glow you've got.”

“Oh God.” Mortified, Nadia examined her reflection in the chrome surface of the espresso machine. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to everyone who knows you had a hot date last night,” her partner teased. “So, you going to spill or what?”

No, she wasn't. Not if she could help it. “I don't know about you, but I have a café to run. Don't you have some soup to make and bread bowls to bake?”

“What, you think I can't listen and cook at the same time?” Siobhan sighed as she took her first sip of caffeine. “Rosie will be here in thirty minutes to relieve you at the register. Come to the kitchen when she does. Audie and Vanessa want me to call them so you can fill us in on all the dirty details at the same time.”

Groaning, but knowing her friends wouldn't let her off the hook, Nadia agreed, then went back to helping customers while Jas kept the cases stocked and the beverages coming. Thirty minutes passed by much too quickly, and she nearly bit poor Rosie's head off when the perky student greeted her. After fixing herself a chai latte, Nadia headed for the kitchen. Delaying would only make Siobhan come and get her. The last thing she wanted was to recap her evening in front of their staff and customers.

As usual, stepping into their kitchen made her sigh with satisfaction as the scents of baking bread, simmering soups, and cooking cakes tantalized her. Getting to this point had been a long, hard road for both her and Siobhan, and they both took pride in the results of their efforts.

“Stop daydreaming and get your ass in here,” Siobhan ordered as she stirred a vat of the soup of the day. As usual, she had her platinum blonde locks artfully piled atop her head beneath a bright teal bandana, her pink Sugar and Spice T-shirt tucked into turquoise capris. White ankle socks and turquoise sneakers completed the look. On anyone else, the outfit would have been just shy of ridiculous. But Siobhan's hourglass figure and retro-chic style made the look work for her. Siobhan could even make an apron look like high fashion.

“You keep snarking on me and I'm not going to tell you anything,” Nadia complained as she headed to the sink to wash her hands. She had cakes and pies to make to complement Siobhan's lunch menu. Jas had already created and decorated batches of cupcakes, and multiple loaves of bread were cooling on the racks.

“Come on, Nadia, you know you want to dish. Besides, why would you deny your best friend the opportunity to live vicariously through you?”

“Because my best friend should be out getting her own.”

Siobhan waved her hand in dismissal. “Whatever. Today is about you.” She waggled her perfectly arched brows. “So how good was it? Did Professor Sex live up to his name?”

Nadia took a quick look around the kitchen, but they miraculously had it to themselves. She moved closer to her partner and gave in to the grin that she'd suppressed all morning. “Hell yeah, he did. At one point, I think I heard angels singing!”

Siobhan squealed like a teen spotting her boy band crush. “Ooh, let me call the girls!”

Within moments they had Audie and Vanessa on a conference call. “About damn time,” Audie exclaimed. “I stayed up past my bedtime to hear this news!”

“How was your date, Nadia?” Vanessa asked, the voice of reason and decorum as always.

Nadia couldn't contain herself any longer. These were her friends, and they'd bonded over sharing their laundry, dirty or otherwise. She couldn't hold out on them. “Guys, it was the most amazing time,” she gushed as she gave them the PG-13 version of her night. “It was so good that I'm wondering if it was really that good or is it just because I broke my drought?”

Audie laughed. “Sounds to me like you need another round to be sure. Maybe three or four. That's how I make up my mind about whether or not I like a guy.”

Siobhan shook her head. “Audie, are you at home?”

The silence was answer enough. Nadia sighed. “Audie, remember how you promised to decide that you like the guy
before
you sleep with him?”

“I do not recall making that promise.”

“There were witnesses,” Vanessa said. “And it was at last Tuesday's Bitch Talk.”

“Well . . .”

Nadia leaned closer to the phone. “Do you remember saying that if you broke your promise, I could withhold your dessert?”

An audible intake of breath. “You wouldn't.”

“Consider yourself cut off, babe.” Siobhan's no-nonsense mother voice cut off any argument. They'd long ago decided that they'd have each other's backs and keep each other on the mostly straight and narrow, and that meant breaking out the tough-love bitch slap whenever necessary. Audie had a problem with falling into bed first and asking questions later. No matter how safe she was, Nadia and the others still worried about where Audie was headed if she didn't get to the root of her sex issues.

“As for you,” Siobhan added, turning back to Nadia, “it's been one date. One toe-curling date, which means it's way the hell too early to worry about anything. Just take it one step at a time.”

One step at a time. She could do that. That was how she'd been living her life for the last few years. One day at a time, always moving forward and away from the ugliness of the past. Kane had heard her sexual declaration the day before. He knew she wanted no pressure, no entanglements, and definitely no drama.

“Speaking of which,” Vanessa said, “when's the next step?”

“Don't know,” Nadia answered. “We haven't talked about when yet.”

Jas pushed open the door leading back to the main retail area. “Uhm, Nadia? We need you out here, please.”

“I'd better go see what's going on out there. I'll talk to you guys later.” Nadia disconnected, then handed the phone back to Siobhan. “I'm worried about Audie.”

“Me too.” Siobhan pocketed her phone. “She's the youngest of us. All we can do is be there for her and support her when she's ready to deal with her issues. Let's go see what fire's burning out on the floor.”

Curious, Nadia pushed open the door and stepped into the café counter area, wondering what sort of problem had occurred that Jas couldn't handle. Siobhan followed her. Most days at ten a.m., the shop entered the slow portion of the morning before the run-up to lunch, and today was no exception. The courier holding a gigantic bouquet of mixed flowers was different.

“Nadia Spiceland?” asked the twenty-something blond-haired surfer-looking guy in a navy blue courier company T-shirt and bike shorts. He glanced between Nadia and Siobhan then did a double-take at Siobhan, as most men did.

“That's me.”

“Special delivery. Please sign here. . . .” He thrust his smartphone in her general direction, but his gaze was firmly locked on Siobhan, who ignored him.

Amused, Nadia used her forefinger to sign the screen, then relieved the courier of the bouquet so that he could stare at her partner unencumbered. “Thank you. Her name's Siobhan, by the way.”

Nadia took the bouquet over to what their staffers called “the bosses' table.” She had no idea what the different blooms were, but she didn't recognize anything that looked like roses. She hadn't had flowers since her stint in the hospital prior to rehab, but those arrangements had nothing on the exquisite assortment in the ruby red vase she held now, a collection of flowers that made her wonder if Kane had chosen each one himself.

Siobhan joined her after sending the dazed courier off with a sandwich and several cupcakes. “Looks like you're not the only one who had a great night.”

Embarrassment and heat spread through Nadia as she breathed in the heady fragrance that reminded her of spices and sweetness and sex. “Maybe, but it also looks like that courier couldn't take his eyes off you.”

Siobhan shrugged, the action elegant on her. “Couldn't take his eyes off the girls, you mean.” She splayed her right hand across her cleavage. “He's probably my daughter's age. Besides, we're not talking about my love life or lack thereof. We're talking about yours. See what the card says.”

Nadia reached into the colorful stems to extract the card held by a clear plastic pitchfork. Opening the envelope, she pulled out the heavy card. Bold handwriting in black ink was scrawled across the heavy ivory paper.
To an amazing woman. Thank you for an amazing night. Until later. Kane.

Nadia couldn't help the grin that spread across her face any more than she could help the giddiness that bubbled through her like champagne on New Year's Eve. Kane had hit all her buttons. Most importantly, he knew what those buttons were and how to push them.

She held out her arm. “I think I need you to pinch me.”

Siobhan obligingly pinched her inner elbow. “You're not dreaming, girl. You're positively glowing.”

She pulled out her phone, handed it to Siobhan. “Would you mind taking a picture of me and the flowers, so I can send it to him?”