Let Us Eat Cake (3 page)

“Be gentle,” I whispered. “You’re so big.”

“Take your time, baby.”

He said that, but then he applied pressure to my hips, adding to the force of gravity that already had him deep inside me. I cried out in a combination of pain and pleasure. He thrust into me.

“I want to make you come,” he said. “Tell me what you need. Don’t be shy.”

He took my nipples back into his mouth, which distracted me from the stretching.

“Oooh,” I said. His attention was intoxicating.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now let me feel you come.”

I rode his cock, leaning forward to give him access to my tits. He squeezed my nipples between his fingers. I panted and felt the nearing of orgasm when I positioned myself so that my clit rubbed against him with each thrust. That pushed me over the edge.

“What’s going on, baby? Tell me.”

“I’m coming,” I said, nearly breathless.

“Mmm, baby, yes.” He plunged deep into me, holding me steady all the while. I couldn’t move my hips as my muscles clenched around his base, sending shudders of pleasure reverberating through my body like ripples on a lake. Sweaty and exhausted, I collapsed onto his chest with a sigh.

“That’s a good girl, Rachel,” he said, kissing the top of my head.

I lay still on him as my heart rate returned to normal. His dick was still hard inside me.

“Want to come on my tits?” I whispered.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said with a sly smile.

As I knelt on the floor in front of him, he whipped off the condom, tossed it aside and stood up. I held my breasts up as though presenting them on a platter. He stroked himself.

“Ready for me?”

I nodded. “I want you to come on me,” I said.

“Here I come, baby.” Holding his erection firmly, he unleashed his warmth all over my breasts while letting out a lion-like moan.

When he was done, he sat back down and pulled me to him.

“That is something I have wanted to do for a long, long time.” He grabbed a tissue from the bookshelf behind him and wiped me down. I was kind of surprised by the gesture, but it was in keeping with his tidy apartment. He held me close to him and pulled a blanket over us.

“Rachel Perkins, you really are something else. I am so glad we ran into each other.”

He smoothed down my hair, caressing me lightly.

“You’re telling me,” I said. “I thought I was just going out for soup ingredients.”

“And cake. Don’t forget cake.” He laughed. “By the way, that mouth of yours is about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I want to feed you. Would you like anything to eat right now?”

“Now?” I checked my phone, which was on the coffee table. It was past midnight. I really wanted to stay, maybe have another round of dare-I-dream-hotter sex, but I knew I needed to get home. “No, I should get going. Next time.”

“There’s a next time?” he asked. “I like the sound of that.” He winked at me and had such a mischievous grin on his face that it spoke volumes of the opportunities another get-together might offer. I felt myself beginning to get aroused again with the promise of that smile and immediately regretted that I had to leave.

“Well, maybe,” I said.
What do I have to lose?
“I like you too, Jeff.”
Understatement much?

“Good,” he said. “I have a feeling we can go far, you and I.”

Still straddling him, I sat back and examined his face. “What do you mean?”

He stroked my hips and looked into my eyes with the gaze of an open heart.

“Whatever you want that to mean.” His tone was definitive. Intentional.

“Well, I should let you know I just got out of something complicated and draining. I’m not looking for anything serious. Also, I am categorically opposed to marriage as an institution.”

“Whoa. Whoa. Who said anything about that?”

“You?”

Unless I was totally clueless. I tensed up, but he ran his hands up my back and wrapped his arms around me, cradling me. He pulled me flush so that we were heart to heart.

“I meant sexually. I can tell you like sex at least as much as me,” he whispered.

I almost wanted to cover up, and I did pull back to get up and get dressed. I had never known anyone to talk the way Jeff did. I blushed. He wasn’t just confident—he was almost full of himself. This was no longer the guy who, years ago, had followed me around asking if I needed help with my binders and textbooks.

“I see you, Rachel Perkins. I see what you want. What you crave. Believe me, I can satisfy you. I can take you places you’ve never dreamed of.”

I was aching to hear more. But I didn’t want to show him that. I couldn’t.

“Me and relationships are like oil and water so be careful with your fantasies of where this is going, all right?”

Sure, I wanted to fall into his embrace and fall in love all over again, but after what happened last time and the time before that, my heart had created a fortress behind which I could be myself. But expose myself? Be vulnerable? No thanks.

“I’m not letting go easily this time. Maybe I messed up when I was younger, but I’m different now. I know who I am and what I want.”

He reached forward and grabbed my hand. My knees buckled with his downward tug, forcing me back on the couch next to him.

“Are you always this bold?” I asked.

He shrugged, which only made him seem more self-assured.

“When I see clearly, I am.”

“Oh and what exactly is it you think you see?”

“A really sexy woman who needs to act tough to get by in the world. I want to show you that you don’t need to be tough with me. You can trust me to be in charge. I’ll take good care of you.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of,” I protested, wondering just how much of my past he remembered. I stood up again, this time really itching to get my clothes back on.

“Oh really?” He swung his arms around and slapped my backside. Then he gripped me tightly around the hips and pulled me back to his lap. “I beg to differ. I can tell you have needs.” His words melted into me. They were slow and syrupy, uttered in a low domineering way that sent shivers up and down my spine.

“Everyone has needs,” I said petulantly, as though defying him was the objective.

“But you, Rachel Perkins…are different and you need your desires met in a bad way I’ll go so far as to guess they’ve never been met before.”

His arrogance!

“What would you know about that, huh?”

“I know plenty. Are you forgetting what you told me back when we were on the beach?”

“That was a long time ago,” I protested, leaning forward. And, in fact, I had forgotten what I’d said. I hesitated to ask, but I couldn’t remember. “What did I tell you?”

I shifted my weight and tried to scoot off his lap, but he held me there. I turned at an angle so I could face him. He looked me right in the eye and said, “You said sometimes you just want to be told what to do.”

His words transported me back to the scene. My former self was not afraid to admit such things. I was different then, more open and willing.

“I was probably talking about my career or something,” I snapped. “Besides, you’re taking things out of context.”

“No, I think you just don’t want to admit that you’re still the same girl.”

“I’m not. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’ve been hurt. I’m different now.”

“Baby, I can handle whatever it is that’s going on in here.” With a soft touch, he put his palm above my left breast, as though he was trying to cradle my heart. Despite my cynicism, I could not deny that the warmth penetrated me to the very core. I did not want to let that happen.

Time to put my guard up!

“I suppose you think you’re the first guy to talk a big talk.”

“I might not be the first talker, but I’m the only one who can deliver what he promises. I know you, Rachel. I can tell you want what I want. You want to turn yourself over to me. It’s like I promised earlier. You’re in good hands.”

“Am I?”

“Rachel, if you let me take charge, I promise you I will not betray you. Not now. Not ever.”

In spite of my desire to argue, I had an even greater urge to give in. Those words. His face was stern and serious. He obviously believed what he was telling me, and he continued to hold his hand to my chest. The gesture made me weak. The effect he had on me was overwhelming and suddenly I knew fundamentally what was going on between us. I gulped.

“When you say ‘take charge’, you mean…” I hoped my confused expression would prompt further explanation.

“I have my way with you and you love it. I earn your trust, and you get to be fucked the way you really want. I work for your pleasure and you surrender control to me.”

I gulped at his use of the F-word and his talk of control. No guy had been that way around me before. It struck to the core of me, scaring me.

“You really think you know me, don’t you?”

“Am I wrong?” he asked. His fiery eyes stared into me and I knew I could not lie. There was no point. It would only amount to lying to myself.

“Not entirely.”

It was like being with a mind reader, but I had barely even admitted to myself that I had a submissive streak, let alone to any guy. I was terrified of going there. My entire adult life had been one long struggle to hide my sexual desires, to force myself into the mold of what I believed was right. That was what had attracted me to writing poetry, the safe acting out of sexuality on the page. But to actually do what my body longed to do behind closed doors? That was not something I’d come close to yet.

“What am I right about?” he asked.

“You do see me.”

He kissed me deeply and I felt the pressure of his hands pulling me to him.

“But you need to know something,” I blurted. “This is not how I normally am. I don’t go home with guys. And I don’t have sex or talk about secret kinky stuff on the first— Wait, a second… This isn’t even a date.”

Then it hit me. “Holy crap. Who am I?”

“You’re someone who may finally be willing to listen to your own urges.”

Suddenly the whole thing freaked me out. He’d seemed so familiar, the sexual chemistry between us obvious, but the past five minutes were an acute reminder of how scary it was to be seen. Clearly, I was not ready for whatever it was he was offering. I got up—telling him I had to get out of there, that I wasn’t ready for anything like this.

“Friday night,” he said. “You and me. Real date.”

“Friday?”

“Tonight’s a school night, remember? Or had you forgotten?”

I had. I’d forgotten everything that was outside of this room.

I looked into his eyes. He took my hand and pressed the back of it to his lips. His grin was devious, as though he knew that I had been sucked into his world.

“You scare me,” I said.

“Good. It’s good to be a little nervous.”

I was a lot nervous. A ghost from the past had come back and this time he wanted to stay. I wanted to believe that, just as I’d wanted to trust my feelings back then. He was impossibly beguiling with his piercing gaze that penetrated beyond the fortress walls I’d put up.

Chapter Three

He drove me home and despite the freezing temperatures outside, I’d never felt hotter. When we stopped in front of my place, he turned off the engine.

“I’m really glad I ran into you,” he said.

I looked into my lap, unable to meet his gaze. “Me too.”

“Rachel?”

“Yeah?”

“Look at me.” His voice dropped to that lower register that instantly made me respond.

I did as he’d said. He smiled at me. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

Oh stop.

I made a face.

“It’s not just that you’re pretty. You
are
pretty, but there is something more to you, too. Your eyes sparkle. You try to conceal a great deal with them, don’t you?”

How was he able to make me feel so naked?

“Uh…” No guy had ever said anything like that to me before. It was like I was being called out on what I knew to be my biggest challenge in relationships. “I guess I’ve learned to put up walls,” I said, trying not to sound too defensive, even though I was.

“I’m glad you can tell me. I want to know more. What can I say? You intrigue me. You always have.”

“I think it’s safe to say that’s mutual, mister,” I said in a joking sort of voice, trying to lighten the tone of a conversation that seemed to reach into the depths of our souls. When in doubt, make ‘em laugh. That had worked in the past.

He smiled as though he was humored, but then he took my hand and lifted it to his face. I knew I could be really seen by him, and I wondered what it would be like to get past humor and niceties into a place that didn’t require walls.

He tickled the skin on the back of my hand with his lips. It wasn’t a kiss, but the tease of a kiss. I shuddered. It was all too much for a girl who, a few hours earlier, had only had her sights as high as lentil soup.

“What would you like to do on Friday for our date?” he asked. He sounded playful, like he was up for go-karting or visiting a funfair.

“I don’t know. Surprise me.”

If we were going to do the formal thing, then I wanted to try being totally traditional and let the guy decide. That was something new for me.

“All right, I will,” he said. “Can I have another kiss before you go?”

I found it surprising that he asked. Our faces were so close together already. I was leaning in his direction and, for the first time, he struck me as kind of shy. I nodded.

He kissed me deeply, taking my face in his hands, holding me still as he parted my lips with delicious precision. The softness of our connection was almost unbearable, like dollops of whipped cream melting together in hot chocolate. It was rich.

He stroked my face with his right thumb as he held me still. Tingles went up and down my spine.

Jeff got out and came around the car to open my door. I’d thought that kind of chivalry was long dead. Certainly, I’d never experienced it. It was even awkward to step out of the car, like I had a chauffeur or something. As I stood, we were close together and even though it was cold out, I was warm. He put his arms around me and held me.