Chapter 31

Thirty-One

Gemma

M usic plays softly as I roll the dough with my hands, folding it in on itself over and over. I’m covered in flour, from my apron to my arms, even my face, I’m sure. I’m clearly not the baker in the family, but I got an itch to make something I haven’t made in years—homemade biscuits and strawberry jam—so that’s what I’m doing. My mom taught me and my siblings this recipe when we were kids, and I swear it’s what kick-started Grace’s love for all things baking.

There’s just something so nostalgic about sitting outside, listening to the birds chirp while eating fresh, homemade biscuits and jam.

As I’m placing the cut-out biscuits on the cookie sheet, a knock sounds at the door. “Hang on,” I call out, rinsing the flour off my hands quickly before drying them with a towel. Walking down the hall, I pull open the front door, smiling when I see who’s on the other side. “I didn’t think you were coming back until tomorrow.”

Everett steps inside, his ocean eyes drinking me in as his arm hooks around my waist, pulling me into him. He dips his head down, pressing his lips to mine, and I breathe out a contented sigh as I melt into the touch. He’s only been gone a week, but it feels like so much longer. I didn’t realize how deeply intertwined Everett had become in mine and Sutton’s everyday lives until he wasn’t here.

We’ve texted and talked on the phone while he’s been gone, but nothing beats this… his arms around me and his lips devouring mine in a way that tells me he missed this as much as I did. What he told me before he left and everything my sisters said have been heavy on my mind all week, and I think this distance has solidified everything I need to know about what I want.

Pulling apart, Everett drags his gaze down my body before coming back up to my face again. “You look sexy and domestic,” he says with a grin that makes my stomach dip.

Laughing, I walk us back to the kitchen. “Yeah, you caught me right in the middle of baking.”

“What are you making?”

“Biscuits, and I was about to make some homemade strawberry jam.”

“Can I help?”

Turning my head, my gaze connects with his, and my body warms. “You want to help make jam with me?” I ask, biting back a huge smile.

Everett’s lips curl up. “I wanna do everything with you. ”

My breath gets caught in my throat and a wave of goosebumps bloom over my skin.

Cocking a brow, I ask, “Have you ever made jam before?”

He shakes his head, smirking. “No, but I have no doubt you’d be a great teacher.”

“You want me to be your teacher, Mr. Windward?”

Throat rolling against a swallow, I swear his eyes darken as they take me in, desire written all over his face. “I’d like that very much,” he rasps, sending a shiver down my spine. “And then maybe when we’re done, if I’ve been a good boy, you could reward me.”

Heat floods my core, and I press my thighs together tighter to try to relieve some of the ache that one sentence caused. “I like the sound of that,” I reply. Reaching into the drawer next to the oven, I grab a spare apron, tossing it his way. “Put that on.”

As I finish preparing the biscuits to go into the oven, Everett gets the strawberries, sugar, and lemon juice out that we need for the jam. “Toxic” by Britney Spears starts playing, and I can’t help but laugh as I turn around and face him. His head is bobbing to the beat, and he lip-syncs the lyrics, the act so innocent and adorable. It makes my stomach flutter. Not to mention, he looks so damn hot standing before me with a white-and-light-blue-checkered apron tied around his neck and waist. My nipples harden beneath my tank top as my mouth dries.

“You keep looking at me like that, and we won’t get much done in here,” Everett says huskily as he closes the distance between us. Hands going to my hips, he nuzzles his face into my neck, breathing me in .

Leaning into his touch, I let my head fall back onto my shoulders. This was a bad idea, because now I want to say screw making jam, and take him to my room instead. Thankfully—or not so thankfully—Everett seems to have a better sense of self-control than I do because after a few beats, he pulls back, his dark, heated eyes finding mine.

“Okay, show me what to do.”

“You’re evil,” I groan, body thrumming with need for him.

“Just imagine how much fun we can have once we’re done,” he offers with a shrug and a cocky smirk. “Now, teach me.”

I don’t know how I manage, but I do. Insisting on doing everything himself, I talk him through mashing up the strawberries in a large bowl before combining those with the sugar and lemon juice in a pot on the stove.

As we wait for the mixture to come to a rolling boil, he asks, “Does everyone in your family like to bake?”

“Sort of.” I shrug. “We baked a lot with our mom growing up. As you can imagine, living in a small town, there’re plenty of opportunities for bake sales and birthdays, and back then, bringing homemade goodies was preferred over store-bought. For me, a lot of baking reminds me of those times.”

“Do you guys ever bake together now?”

I nod, smiling. “Yup. Every year around Christmastime, we all get together and make a ton of holiday goodies. Except now we do it all at Grace’s bakery instead of piling into one of our kitchens.”

“That sounds fun.” His features soften as he looks over at me, continuing to stir the strawberry mix as he does. “I love how close you are with your family.”

A pang of sadness fills my chest at knowing Everett doesn’t have the same with his. Maybe my family will become his one day. The thought takes me by surprise, but I can’t deny the warmth it fills me with at even thinking it.

Once it starts to boil, I instruct him to keep stirring it. “We’ve gotta stir this for about ten or fifteen minutes to get it up to 220 degrees Fahrenheit,” I tell him as I pull a plate out of the freezer. “Then we can check doneness by dropping a spoonful of the jam onto this plate.”

Looking from the plate to me, confusion furrows his brow. “What does that do?”

I breathe out a small laugh. “If the jam appears to gel, then we know it’s ready. If it’s thin and runny, we’ll continue to stir it on the stove.”

My eyes drop down his back, taking in the firm globes of his ass. It’s such a nice ass; I want to take a bite out of it.

The timer goes off, and I pull the biscuits out of the oven, putting the next round in. When I’m done doing that, it’s time to test the jam. I can already tell just by looking at it that it’s probably good to go, but I hand Everett a small spoon to check just in case.

“This was easier than I thought it would be,” he says while we wait.

“People often think so much goes into making jam, and that’s just not the case. And it tastes so much better than the stuff you can get at the store.”

Everett places a larger spoonful onto the plate to cool it off so he can try it, and while we wait for that to be ready, we can up the rest of the jam, screwing the lids on tight so we can put it all away. The timer for the biscuits goes off, so I get those out and place them on the counter to cool as well. I can’t even focus on how amazing the house smells when Everett is standing in my kitchen looking downright delectable.

Catching me staring, his lip ticks up. “What’re you thinking about?” he asks, voice gravelly.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I cock my head to the side and go with honesty. “I was just thinking about how sexy it would be to see you wear that apron with nothing else on underneath.”

He smiles over at me, cheeks the perfect shade of pink as he rests his hip against the counter. “Is that right?”

Knowing what a filthy mouth Everett has, it always turns me on something fierce seeing him get bashful.

I nod, unable to hide my smile. “Yeah, and I think you should.”

Everett glances around for a moment. “Where’s Sutton?”

“Are you just now realizing he’s not here?” I snort.

Chuckling, he brushes his hand along the stubble covering his jaw. “No, obviously not. But when is he coming back?”

“He’s with my mom and stepdad for the day,” I tell him. “They went to the zoo a couple hours away and won’t be home until late.”

We watch each other, the heat and tension simmering between us. It’s wild how even being near him turns me on so much that doing something as normal and not sexual as baking with him can turn me on. I’ve been revved up since the minute he walked into my house .

Will he do it?

The question is answered a second later as I watch him untie the apron from around his neck before reaching behind his head and grabbing the collar of his shirt, tugging it off. He tosses the material onto the counter behind him before securing the apron around his neck again. Then his hands disappear behind the apron, and my mouth waters as I watch him shove his sweats and boxers down, his eyes never leaving mine.

My heart races as I take him in. Even more so when his lip kicks up on one side and he murmurs, “Your turn, mama.”

“My turn?” I ask, the grin wide as it spreads on my face.

“You’re the teacher today,” he explains, taking a step in my direction. “And we lead by example in the classroom, don’t you know?”

Swallowing thickly, I watch on bated breath as he reaches behind my neck, undoing the strings and letting them fall. Fingers coming to the hem of my tank top, he cocks a brow at me, silently instructing me to raise my arms, which I do. He tugs the cotton up and over my head, letting it fall beside us as his eyes fall to my breasts.

“I fucking love when you don’t wear a bra,” he groans, fingers coming up to tweak my nipples, the touch sending a shock wave of pleasure to my already heated core. Only playing with them for a moment, he ties the strings around my neck again before stepping closer and bringing his hands to my hips. Everett leans in, pressing his hot, firm lips to my neck as he shoves my shorts off my body until they’re pooling at my feet. Large hands coming up to cup the swell of my ass, he growls against my skin. “And no panties? Such a dirty girl, mama.”

Everett pulls back enough to look me in the eye as he pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger. Hot, hungry lips are on mine before I know what’s happening, his tongue surging into my mouth, greedily tasting and tangling with mine. I wrap my arms around his neck as his circle my waist, and he kisses me until I’m panting and breathless. Until my head is dizzy and my body is on fire.

“I’m fucking starving for you,” he growls, fingers untying the string around my waist. “And I changed my mind about this. I want to see every inch of your sexy fucking body as I devour it.”

A shiver rolls down my spine as he removes the fabric, leaving me standing before him, completely bare.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Look at you, you’re perfect. I missed this.”

Eyes coming up to meet mine, lust and longing douse my veins, and I admit softly, “Me too.”

“C’mere,” he husks before sealing his mouth to mine again, hands squeezing my hips as he hoists me up onto the counter. It’s cold beneath my bare ass, but I barely even notice because his hands on my body warm me up like nothing else. Pressing my thighs apart, he steps between them, tongue licking into my mouth.

Fuck, I need him.

Ripping his lips from mine, he grabs some of the jam, and with a smirk tugged on his lips, he coats my nipples with the now cool strawberry mess. “Perfect,” he breathes, dipping his head down and sucking one of them into his mouth, licking it clean before moving to the next. Pleasure soars through my body, my pussy clenching and practically dripping for him already.

Once he’s finished, Everett takes a step back, hands rested on the tops of my thighs, his touch electric, as his gaze shamelessly drinks me in. My chest heaves, nipples hard, and I know he can see how wet I already am with just one look.

“God, I can’t get enough of you,” he says under his breath, almost as if he meant it only for himself. “Spread your legs wider for me, mama. Let me get a taste of that sweet cunt of yours now.”

A shiver rolls through me as I do just that, palms flat on the counter behind me as I’m splayed wide open on display for him.

Using his thumbs, he parts my lips, running the flat of his tongue from bottom to top, groaning against my wet flesh like it’s the best damn thing he’s tasted all day. It’s only been a week since we’ve been together, yet I’m practically trembling with need. Next, with his index and middle fingers, he spreads my arousal up and around my clit lazily, making my toes curl. He peers up at me from beneath his lashes, his eyes darkened to nearly black as he leans down and replaces his fingers with his lips, sealing around the hardened bud and sucking as he inserts the digits into my pussy, my walls clamping down around him at the unexpected, but welcomed, intrusion.

Everett curls his fingers up as he fucks me with them, grazing that sweet spot inside of me that, paired with the suction on my clit, has my eyes rolling back.

“Uh-uh, eyes on me, mama,” he growls against my pussy as his fingers work harder inside of me, massaging and caressing the button in a way I’ve never felt before. “I want you to drench my face, you hear me?”

His fingers are like magic inside of me, the right amount of pressure and roughness, and then when he leans back down and adds his tongue to the mix again, I swear I almost see god. Alternating between sucking and licking, he works my clit like it’s his birthright. My legs tremble, attempting to close around Everett’s head, as pressure builds low in my belly. Heat spreads throughout my entire body, and my head feels like it’s in the clouds.

“Oh, fuck, Everett,” I gasp, my muscles tightening. “Oh my god, yes! Don’t stop!”

Groaning against my pussy, the vibrations move through me, only adding to the pleasure building to an almost impossible level, his fingers and his tongue never letting up, even as it feels like it’s too much.

My jaw goes slack as I watch him inch me closer and closer to the ledge until I can’t take it anymore. It starts low in my spine, a buzzing, pulsing, aching type of heat that bursts down my legs and up my abdomen, all through my arms to the tips of my fingers. The corners of my vision darken as the pleasure takes control. Warmth floods my system as he never lets up, my release gushing out of me in a way I’ve never experienced before. It just keeps coming, wave after wave crashing into me while he laps every last drop up.

“Holy shit,” I gasp. “What was that?”

“That was you squirting all over my tongue like the good fucking girl you are,” Everett rasps against my core as he drags his tongue along my slit one more time, making me shiver .

My body feels wrung out and boneless by the time it stops. Everett watches me as he sucks me off of his fingers before pressing a tender, gentle kiss on the inside of my thigh. Emotion suddenly takes ahold of me, and I can’t help but sit up, wrap a hand around the back of his neck, and crash my lips against his, tasting my release all over his tongue.

Lifting me off the counter, my legs wrap around his waist as he walks us to my bedroom, never taking his lips off of mine the entire way there. Practically tossing me onto the bed, his hungry eyes roam over every inch of me before he crawls on the bed, boxing me in as his lips find mine once more. This kiss is drenched in need and desire. It’s messy and filthy, and he licks into my mouth like he can’t get deep enough.

Despite having orgasmed not even five minutes ago, my body is already vibrating for him, and as he pulls back, removing the apron swiftly, I can’t help but drink in the sexy, handsome man in front of me. The lust-drunk way he watches me, his wide chest peppered with the faintest smattering of dark hair that matches the trimmed dark patch at the base of his fat, veiny, impressive, and already rock-hard cock.

“I could get used to having you look at me like that,” he murmurs, the left side of his mouth kicked up into a smirk that hits me right in the stomach.

“Yeah, well, I could get used to you making me come like you just did.”

I’ve never felt pleasure as intense as what he just did to me. Never felt my release pour out of me like that.

Everett strokes a hand up the inside of my thigh, stopping short of where I’m already aching for him to be again as his eyes flick up to meet mine. “Where are your toys?” he asks.

My heart slams against my chest. “What?”

“You heard me, mama. Where do you keep your toys?” Nodding his chin toward the nightstand beside my bed, he asks, “In there?”

I nod, frozen in place as I watch Everett lean over my body and pull open the drawer, taking out things I’ve never shown anybody before.

“You’ve got quite the collection in here.” He tosses me a flirty grin that makes my nipples hard all over again. My cheeks heat as he pulls out not only my rose vibrator, but also the sparkly dildo, and a bottle of lube, setting them on the bed beside me before shutting the drawer.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, but I can’t deny the thrill shooting through my bloodstream as I can only imagine what he has in store for us.

“Remember that fantasy you told me about?” he asks, cocking a brow at me as my pulse goes haywire. Biting down on my bottom lip, I nod, apparently unable to use my words at the moment. “Well, I’m about to make your dreams come true, mama.”

Oh, fuck. I swear I could come again just from that one sentence.