Sweet Addiction (7 page)

He silently thinks for
a minute, his hand holding his rag still on the glass. “Maybe he means that
you
got to him. Like he was only going into it as just being what it was,
slutty wedding sex, a one-time hook up, a sexy romp with a bridesmaid---”

“I wasn’t a
bridesmaid.” I interject and his hand comes up to silence me.

“You know what I mean.
He expected it to be a one and done deal but what he wasn’t expecting was
you
.
Oh my God, you’re a game changer. He wants more than just slutty wedding sex.”

I was going through the
motions of rolling my eyes but stopped.
Is that what Reese meant? Did I
affect him to the point of freak out? Is that even a good thing? No. There’s no
way.
I shake my head.

“I think you and Juls
are still drunk from the wedding.  That guy is way too hot for me. Yes, I
managed to somehow seduce him after he had
several
drinks I’m sure, but
in normal daily life where alcohol isn’t free flowing and I’m usually covered
in pastry flour and icing, he is way the hell out of my league.” I finish off
my muffin and toss the wrapper in the trash can. “Besides, he told me he hasn’t
had a girlfriend since college, which I’m sure is by choice. Look at him.”

Joey walks around the
counter, grabbing my hand and kisses the back of it. “Yeah, he does have that
whole unattainable bachelor vibe going on. And I’m sure he gets a lot of ass,
but right now, he wants
your
ass.” He arches his brow playfully. “For
the record, I happen to like you covered in pastry flour. And you are
just
as hot as he is.”

I smile sweetly at him
as he drops my hand and gets back to cleaning. My two closest friends are crazy,
rightly out of their minds. And between the two of them, I’m sure my wedding to
Reese would be planned within the next month.

**       

I slept for shit that
night. Images of Reese’s orgasmic face kept entering my dreams that I tried to
be of anything but him. It was a useless act. No matter what thought entered my
mind, whether it was searching my brain for what exactly was in a tart to the
anniversary cake consultation I had Tuesday morning; his beautiful face would
pop in uninvited. Tossing in my bed and now completely drenched in sweat, I sit
up and glance at my alarm clock. 3:15a.m.
Jesus, I have to be up in less
than two hours for my run and haven’t slept a wink.
I slam back on my
pillow.
This can’t happen. I cannot let some hook up affect me like this.
I’m never going to get a good night’s sleep. You can forget about my morning
runs with Joey and functioning properly in the shop. I’ll lose my business and
everything I worked so hard for.
No. Fuck this
. Hoping out of bed, I
throw myself into a freezing cold shower and jolt myself even more awake. Sleep
is for the weak. There’s no way I’m getting any tonight so I might as well
bake. After dressing, I grab my phone and descend the stairs two at a time.

I knew exactly what I
was going to make. It’s what I always made when I couldn’t sleep or needed a
distraction. My mocha cupcakes with espresso butter cream frosting. The perfect
combination of caffeine and chocolate, both of which I could consume in massive
quantities right now. I opened my tattered recipe book and thumbed through it
until I stopped on the familiar handwriting. It was a recipe of my
grandmother’s that she used to make when I was a little girl, stumbling
clumsily around her kitchen as she baked all day long. She made them weekly and
always let me help her, my big brown eyes watching her with complete awe as she
cracked her eggs with one hand and never needed a measuring spoon because “a
real cook will always trust her taste buds over anything else.” My mother hated
when she would make this recipe with me because I would consume them in mass
quantities and be on an insane sugar and caffeine high for hours. My crash
would be swift and hard, usually resulting in me passing out in the middle of
the living room floor. I always thought of my grandmother when I made these.
She passed away ten years ago and it made me sad to think that she would never
get to see her influence on me now. After pulling together all of my
ingredients and starting the coffee maker, I create a group text message with
Juls and Joey.

Me: Just so you are both aware, its
3:30a.m. and I am making my mocha cupcakes. Yes, you read that correctly and
yes, it’s because I haven’t slept at all. Don’t bother asking me to go for a
run Joey. That ship has sailed.

Once the coffee is
brewed, I mix in the espresso powder and set it aside to cool while I whip up
the remaining ingredients. The smell alone perks me up a bit and I wasn’t
feeling like a complete pathetic sleep deprived loser anymore. This is what I
knew. Baking. I was good at it and I could practically do it in my sleep. Which
I guess right now was ironic considering my current zombie like state. My mind
begins to drift as I whip the batter, watching the electric beaters mix the
eggs and sugars. 
I wonder if Reese like’s mocha cupcakes?
 
Or
maybe he’s a cookie guy. Shit.
I turn the mixer off and put my bowl onto
the counter as I rub my eyes.
Focus, Dylan. You could lose a fucking finger.
I combine the egg mixture with my batter and whip it quickly before
dividing the batter evenly into my cupcake liners. After I shove the trays into
the oven, I get to work on the icing. 

The icing is made of
espresso powder, vanilla, butter, and powdered sugar. It’s ridiculously sweet
and one of my favorites. I could live off of this stuff if I had to. Because
really, is there anything better than icing?
Sex with Reese, his lips, his
hands touching me, his sounds...

“UGH.” I yell, slamming
my hands down onto the cool counter. This is insane. What the fuck is wrong
with me? I’ve never been this affected by a guy before. I was with Justin for
two years and could go days without talking to or seeing him and not even miss
the asshole. Which I guess in hindsight should have been a dead giveaway. I
mean, shouldn’t you want to see your significant other nonstop? But I didn’t,
and that was at least a relationship. This, whatever it is that Reese and I are
doing or were doing and I may be completely crazy to assume that we will
continue doing it. This is not serious. And I need to get my shit together and
stop acting like it is. I pull the cupcakes out of the oven and lay them on the
counter to cool while I test the icing.

“Mmmm. Perfect.” I’m
half tempted to say fuck the cupcakes and grab a spoon and retreat back
upstairs with my bowl. But I yawn instead. And yawn again. Glancing at my
phone, the blurred numbers read 4:27a.m. as my eyelids refuse to stay open.
With a third yawn, I pull up a stool and prop my head on my fist as I sit and
wait for the cupcakes to cool. Then I could ice them and get ready for my day.
Yup. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I didn’t need sleep. Because with
sleep came dreams of Reese and I didn’t need that. My eyelids fall shut and my
breathing steadies. Nope, definitely don’t need sleep. Or Reese.

“Cupcake, I think you
need to wake up now.”

My eyes slowly flutter
open and the bright sunlight beaming through my window makes me close them
tight again. “Shit.” I roll over and cover my head with my pillow, hearing
Joey’s soft giggle.

“Seriously, Dylan,
you’re going to sleep the day away if you don’t get up.”

Sleep the day away?
I push back onto my shins to look at the clock.

“It’s 3:30? In the
afternoon? Fuck.” I shoot out of bed and run into the bathroom. “Joey, why the hell
did you let me sleep this late? And how did I even get up here?” He follows me
into the bathroom and leans against the door as I brush my teeth and unruly
hair.

“First of all, I came
in this morning to find you passed out face down on the workbench. So, being
the nice guy that I am, I carried you up here and put you to bed.”

I splash my face with
cold water and dry it with a towel, turning to smile at him. “Oh God. I bet I
was a sight.” He shrugs and steps aside as I walk into the bedroom and begin getting
dressed.

“And secondly, I have
been trying to wake you for the past four hours.”

I roll my eyes at his
statement. Of course he’s been trying to wake me up and I’ve slept through it.
What the hell don’t I sleep through besides my alarm? I slip on my jeans and a
black tank top before I walk out from behind the partition. “Four hours? Jesus.
Oh shit.” My stomach drops. “I missed my consultation.”

He smiles sweetly at me
and I want to punch him.
What is he, mental? That’s money lost. “
Relax,
I took care of it. Mrs. Frey was more than happy to meet with me since you were
suffering from a stomach bug. You’re welcome.”

“I love you. You know
that right?”

He wraps me up into a
big hug and kisses the top of my head. “You better. Come on, I have something to
show you.”

I follow him down the
stairs and into the bakery. Everything is in perfect order, which I knew it
would be. Joey is more than capable of handling shit while I slept my life
away. “God, I’m starving. I feel like I haven’t eaten in days. Ooohhh and you
iced the mocha cupcakes.” I pull a blueberry muffin out from the almost bare
display case and begin nibbling on it while spacing out the remaining treats.
Joey emerges from the back carrying a familiar looking white box.
Oh God.

“Of course I iced them.
And they have been selling like crazy too along with everything else today.
We’ve been slammed.” He places the box on the counter in front of me and I
swallow loudly. “But who gives a shit about cupcakes or anything edible right
now. You have no idea how hard it has been to not open this.” He pushes it
closer to me. “Now get to it.”

My heart begins beating
so hard in my chest I think for sure it will crack my sternum. “Maybe later.” I
push it away from me easily.
Hmm. Definitely not flour.

“Fuck that noise. Since
you aren’t going to freely tell me why you couldn’t get any sleep last night,
which I’m just going to assume was because a certain someone was on your mind,
you
will
open this right now.” He pushes it back in front of me and
pulls the ribbon.

“Same delivery guy?” I
ask and he nods. Not that I really had any doubt. Placing my half eaten muffin
down, I open the box, grabbing the brown card that is lying on top of the
tissue.

“Read it out loud,” he
squawks.

“No. What if he’s confessing
to a murder? I would hate for you to be an accessory.” Joey mumbles something
under his breath as I unfold the note and step back, giving myself the allusion
of privacy.

Dylan,

Next time I go to Agent
Provocateur to replace something of yours, you will be accompanying me.

                                                                                   
X Reese

“Fuck me.” I throw the
card at Joey and riffle through the tissue paper, slowly pulling out the pair
of purple lacy panties with the tiny ribbons on the sides.

He slams his hand down
on the counter. “Jesus Fucking Christ. He bought you panties?”

“Yeah. I mean, he took
the ones from the wedding and I jokingly told him he had to buy me a
replacement pair.” I stare at the panties, my face instantly heating up at the
realization that Reese actually went lingerie shopping for me.
Christ, this
is seriously hot.
“I was totally kidding though.”

Joey re-reads the note
several times before he turns to me, fanning his face with the card. “This has
to be the hottest note I’ve ever read. Like, I could seriously have an orgasm
from reading this.” His mouth drops open and he steps closer to me, admiring
the panties in my hand. “Wait a minute, what do you mean he kept your panties
from the wedding? You went home without panties?”

I snatch the note back
and slip it into my pocket. “Oh hold off on the judgment please. Like you
haven’t gone without your delicates before.” He looks towards the ceiling for a
memory and smiles as I laugh at him. “Shit, Joey. How hot is this?”

“Wickedly hot. Sweet
Lord, you need to fuck him again and fast before I drug him and drag him over
to my side.” I laugh until my side hurts and am only interrupted when the shop
phone rings.

“Dylan’s Sweet Tooth.”
I giggle into the phone as Joey studies my panties like a weirdo. “Give those
back, you perv,” I whisper away from the phone.

“Dylan?”

My back straightens and
I almost drop the phone.
I know that voice.
Clearing my throat and
pretending I didn’t, I answer after a beat. “Yes, this is Dylan.”

“It’s Reese.”

“Oh, hi.” I swat at
Joey to get his attention and mouth
it’s him
. He drops my panties on the
counter and quickly snatches the phone away from me.
What?
No!

“Reese. You
stud
you. My girl is dying for you to impregnate her.”

“GIVE ME THE PHONE.”

He grins and nods his
head as I jump up and try to snatch it.
Damn it to hell he’s tall.
“Yup.
She just opened your package. Speaking of packages, just how big
is
your
dick? As memorable as she says?”
I am going to kill him. Slowly.

Grabbing the phone out
of his hand, I punch him as hard as I can in his shoulder as he laughs at me.
“Asshole. Shit, my hand. You’re fucking dead, Holt.” I shake my hand in the air
and bring the phone up to my ear. “Hello?” I say through a wince of pain.
Oh
God. Please tell me he didn’t hear any of that. 

“Hi, love. What’s this
about you wanting to carry my children?” I can hear the smile in his voice;
obviously enjoying himself immensely. I, on the other hand, want to hurl myself
into traffic.

“Sorry. Joey drinks.”
This
is mortifying.
“Can I help you with something?”

“Is your hand okay?”

A customer walks
through the door and Joey gets to work helping her. After flipping him off, I
watch him giggle at me as I slip into the back for some much needed privacy.
“Yes, it’s fine, I think.” Making a fist to stretch it out, I smile at my next
move.
He sends me a naughty note; he’s going to get naughty Dylan.
“How’s
your
hand?”

“My hand? And why would
something be wrong with my hand, sweet Dylan?”

I sigh.
Sweet Dylan.
Lord help me this guy is smooth.
“Well, I just assumed you jerked off
repeatedly at the image of me in each and every item in that store today. In
fact, I’m counting on it.” The sound of coughing comes through the phone and I
chuckle. “So tell me, why exactly would I accompany you to Agent Provocateur?
I’m there enough as it is.” 

After a brief moment of
just his breathing in my ear which is making the hair on my neck stand up, he
speaks. “Do you own any garters?” His voice is low and taunt.
Christ, he
sounds seductive even at work.

I can feel my pulse
hammering in my neck as I bite my bottom lip. “Maybe, why?”

“Wear one tonight.”

Tonight?
I’m going out for drinks with Joey and Juls tonight. Of course, where Juls
goes, Ian goes. And Ian must have told Reese.
I suddenly couldn’t wait for
drinks.

“You know those cost a
pretty penny, don’t you? I would hate to lose such an expensive item of clothing
when you decide to steal it.”  Even though I wouldn’t mind it entirely. He
can confiscate every article of clothing I have for all I care.

“Who said anything
about you taking it off?”

I grip the workbench
and close my eyes, suddenly feeling like I could combust
.

“Reese.”

“Dylan.”

I glance down at my
shirt, my aroused nipples highly visible now. I moan softly into the phone
before I answer in a whisper, “I’m so wet right now.”

A loud crack rings
through the receiver and I know he’s dropped it.
Ah, sweet victory.

“Are you serious?” he
murmurs and I chuckle at his response. “Shit. You can’t tell me that when I’m
stuck at work.”

I run my hand up and
around my neck, feeling the clamminess of my skin. “Well I am. That voice of
yours does that to me.”

Joey pops his head
through the doorway and I immediately freeze. “Cupcake, we need more éclairs.”

I nod quickly, eyes
wide as Joey’s grin gets bigger. “I guess I’ll see you later then?” I ask,
moving towards the pastry rack. I know my face is beet red and feel like I’ve
just been caught masturbating. Shit, I practically was.

He breathes heavily
into the phone. “I’m counting on it.” The call ends, allowing me to grab the
container of éclairs with both hands after I place the phone down on the
worktop.

Turning quickly, I see
Joey watching me, arms crossed. “You look all hot and bothered,” he says slyly
through his smile.

“I am. And I’m not sure
how I feel about it either.”

Pushing past him, I walk
to the display case and fill the tray of pastries. He leans against the
doorframe. “What does that mean? He wants you; obviously, you want him, again,
obviously, so what’s the problem here?”

I close the case. “No
problem. This is just sex. Really fucking good sex. So, no problem.” I brush
past him and shake my head, silently communicating that this conversation is
over. Because this
is
just sex. And even though I’ve always been a
relationship kind of girl, I am more than capable of handling hot casual sex.
Right?
 

**

Joey and I arrived at
The Tavern at 8:30 p.m. after I spent over an hour debating what to wear. I had
settled on my cream summer dress that hugged my curves in the most sinfully way
possible. It bunched in the front, accentuating my cleavage and fell just above
my knee. Paired with my matching heels and feeling my garter cling to my
thighs, I felt secretly sexy. My hands shake as we step through the door, Joey
leading the way through the packed bar. I have no idea why I’m so nervous. I’ve
already had sex with the guy. And now I knew for sure that he enjoyed it as
much as I did and didn’t regret it. But for some reason, my heart is pounding
in my ears and my stomach is clenched tight.
Come on, Dylan. You can do
this. He wants you and you sure as hell want him.

I follow Joey to the
bar where Juls is perched on a stool, messing with her phone. With no members
of the Chicago man candy club in sight, I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Finally. Holy hell,
Dylan. That dress. Shit, that might actually kill him.” She grins wickedly and
runs her eyes down my body.

I twirl quickly as Joey
whistles. “You bitches annoy me with your hot little figures,” he grumbles,
motioning for the bartender.

“Joey is buying because
he’s a shithead who steals phones out of people’s hands,” I say as Juls hops
down from her stool.

“Excellent. I love it
when Joey is a shithead. White Zinfandel for me, JoJo.”

He glares at her and
then at me.

“Don’t you dare look at
me like that. Telling Reese that I wanted to have his babies. You’re lucky I’m
only making you buy us drinks.” I cock my head to the side and stare him down.

“Ha! Oh my God. You
would have the prettiest babies.” Juls squeals.

“I know, right?” he
echoes.

I roll my eyes. “You’re
both mental.” 

Juls grabs my hand and
tugs me through the crowd, stopping at an empty tall table.  My eyes scan
the room as I settle on my stool. I quickly tap my fingers on the table and
bite the inside of my cheek.

“You’re nervous,” she
states as my eyes meet hers across the table.

“I don’t know, maybe
this is a bad idea.”

She arches her brow at
me.

“I feel like I’m trying
too hard. I mean, I’m wearing a fucking garter under this for Christ’s sake.”

“So am I. High-five,
sweets.” I can’t help but giggle at her naughty enthusiasm as I humor her and
slap her hand. Of course Juls is wearing a garter. Between the two of us, I’m
sure we’ve accumulated one of every item in Agent Provocateur.