Chapter 34

34

Annika

I've possibly lost my mind, but there's nothing that feels more right than helping Grady peel his shirt off in the huge master bathroom on the second floor.

"You have dough in your hair," I tell him with a giggle when he reaches for my shirt hem.

"I want to put dough in your belly button and lick it out."

My giggles die away as he pulls my shirt over my head and I wrap my arms around him and attack him with a kiss.

He tastes like cake-cookie dough and Christmas morning, and his hands are hot and big and strong against my back, pressing us together while he kisses me back like a starving man given a brownie sundae.

And that bulge in his pants is still holding strong.

Poor guy has to hurt by now.

My fingers get caught in the sticky mess in his hair, and I'm giggling and panting and aching for more all at the same time.

And suddenly my bra is gone, and I shiver in anticipation.

The happy tingles spread over my entire body when Grady palms my breasts, rubbing lazy circles around my nipples. He pulls out of the kiss with a groan. "Years, Annika. I've wanted you for years ."

"Half my life," I confess. "Tell me you have a condom."

"Six. Back pocket."

"Optimistic much?" I ask through a giggle while I dig out a stack of foil packets from his pocket.

"Should've been a Boy Scout. Oh, missed a spot." He bends and sucks at my neck, and my breath catches at the pressure, and I suddenly need to get out of my pants.

And I need him to get out of his pants.

I make quick work of his button—yes, while gripping all six condoms, and I suddenly realize he might mean to use them all at once for sextuple protection, and then I'm giggling again, and he sucks harder on my neck, right in that sweet spot where it meets my shoulder, and then I'm freeing his cock and lord have mercy , he could win any cannoli contest hands-down.

I grip his silky length in one hand and stroke, and he makes a strangled noise and pushes me back until we're in the walk-in shower.

"Pants. Gone," he orders. "Two seconds. Water."

"Hot water?"

"Fuck, yes."

He takes the condoms and puts them on the soap ledge, and then he's kissing his way down between my breasts, over my belly, and lower while he tugs my leggings and panties off.

"So fucking gorgeous," he murmurs to the curls between my legs, and my breath catches as he inhales. He lifts my foot to pull off my pants, and presses another line of kisses down my inner thigh.

" Grady ," I whisper.

"Sssh. Let a man live out a fantasy."

"You—"

I end with a strangled moan when he kisses his way back up my thigh. "You're getting your cookies tonight, Annika. No excuses."

My skin is on fire. My toes are already curling. He's touching my hips. My ass. My legs.

Kissing my other inner thigh and making my knees quiver. My clit is pulsing and heavy. My pussy is hot and ready. Cool air brushes my most sensitive parts when he lifts my other foot to tug my pants the rest of the way off, and then he pushes me against the wall, carefully parts my legs, and leans in to kiss me.

There .

I gasp at the intimate touch of his tongue against my seam, but oh my god , that's good.

"So good," I pant.

"You're wet," he murmurs before he licks me again.

"All—night—you—want— Grady! "

His tongue swirls around my clit, and I fist my fingers in his sticky hair. His stubble against my sensitive skin is electric and perfect and I buck my hips into his mouth and spread my legs wider, because more .

"I could fucking live here," he says, and that's the last coherent sentence I hear before he unleashes his magic tongue and devours my pussy like it's the cupcake that's been taunting him for days, and he's finally been given permission to eat.

He licks and suckles and teases, and I gasp and moan and just feel .

I let go.

I let him take care of me, with my foot hooked over his shoulder and his fingers lightly scraping my hamstrings while his mouth— oh, god, his mouth is playing my pussy like he was born with his face between my legs, and just when I think I'm about to come apart in a million shiny pieces of glass, he sucks my clit hard and slides two fingers deep inside me and crooks them just right, and my body goes off like a bottle rocket.

The spasms hit me so fast, so deep inside, that I don't have time to think.

Just feel.

Close my eyes.

I think I call him a sex god for all the ages, but I'm not sure, I just know that's my voice echoing off the tile walls and I'm clenching so tight around his fingers and my clit is doing backflips of joy and he's licking me clean while my body keeps riding wave after wave of ecstasy, which looks like cupcake fireworks over rainbows made of unicorn horns that shoot glitter and turn the whole world into one big, happy, shiny party of joy.

If there's a heaven, it's here.

"That's better," Grady murmurs as he pulls his fingers out of my pussy.

I whimper, because I'm suddenly empty, but when he licks my juices off his fingers, I don't care that I just came so hard my right eye can't quite focus, even though I dimly know my vision is really important for some reason.

"You are so fucking sexy," he tells me.

"I don't know how many cupcakes you practiced on," I pant, "but good job."

He grins, lids heavy, and shoves to his feet, shucking his pants as he goes. They join my pants outside the shower, and he flips on the overhead nozzle.

"You're still all dirty," he informs me, shielding me from the cool spray and licking my neck and exploring my body with his fingertips until the glass wall fogs.

I bite his shoulder and explore on my own, letting my fingers learn the curve of his arms, the hard planes of his chest, the dip of his belly button, the thick length of his cock.

"I always knew you'd be amazing," I whisper while I squeeze him.

He grunts. "Careful. Let's get you cleaned up."

"I don't want to be clean."

His lips twist in a grin that brings out his dimples, and I'm fairly certain I could live every day for the rest of my life with those blue-green eyes raking over my body like that.

"How about dough-free?" He guides me into the shower spray and combs his fingers through my sticky hair. "Clean hair, dirty girl?"

"Do I get to be dirty with you?"

"As dirty as you want."

He grabs a bottle and squeezes a dollop of shampoo into his hand, then slowly starts rubbing it into my hair, his fingers massaging my scalp, making my eyes drift closed as my fingers keep exploring his wet skin.

"We're always wet," I whisper.

"I like you wet."

"I need to wash your hair too."

"Patience, my eager apprentice."

I giggle and trail my hands down to grip his cock again. " Apprentice ? Excuse me, mister, who do you think has more experience washing hair?"

"Fuck, Annika, I love when you touch me."

"Mm," I agree, stroking his length while his fingers tighten in my hair. Bubbles drip down my back, and as I stroke him, he tilts my head back, kissing me while hot water rains down on both of us.

"Can't—much—longer," he gasps, which is fine with me, because having him in my hands is making me want him inside me, and never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd ever let myself stand naked in the shower with Grady, his impressive hard-on straining for me while my very happy lady bits asked to please invite him in, and not for tea and crumpets.

"Does it hurt?" I ask.

"The part where I'm not inside you? Yes. Yes, it hurts."

He's trying to smile, like he's joking, but there's so much heat and need darkening his eyes that I grab one of the condoms.

"I don't like it when you hurt," I tell him.

"I don't want to hurt you ."

"Best friends?" I whisper.

"Annika. Everything . You're everything ."

I roll the condom down his hard length and press up on my toes to kiss him again, because now that I've kissed him, I can't stop.

I don't want to ever stop.

I don't want to fight a bakery war. I don't want to go home to Sarcasm tonight. I don't want to lie and hide.

I just want Grady .

He lifts me so I can wrap my legs around him, and once again, my back hits the cool, slick tile, but this time, there's nothing between us.

No clothes.

No hesitations.

No secrets.

Not between us , anyway.

This is just me and my best friend. The man who's known me for longer than anyone outside my family.

Who shows up at midnight to bake cookies for me.

Who listens when I need to vent my frustrations and worries.

Who I've been in love with forever, no matter how hard I've tried to deny it.

The head of his cock nestles between my thighs, nudging me apart as he slides in slowly, not just filling my body, but adding the final piece to my soul.

"Annika," he gasps, his head dropped to my shoulder.

"Deeper," I urge, tilting my hips into him. "I want all of you. I need all of you."

He pulls back, then thrusts all the way in, slowly, carefully, so I can feel every inch of him against every inch of me, and oh my stars , I need him.

His body. His heart. His friendship.

His love.

Love isn't a secret , doubt whispers to me.

I squeeze my eyes shut and roll my hips into his as he strokes inside me again, faster and faster, whispering all the confessions I've wanted to say to him too these past ten years.

I missed you.

I needed you.

I want you.

You're beautiful.

So perfect.

My match.

My only.

I'm gripping his face, kissing his chin, his nose, his dimples, all the dough in his hair melting into streams of sweetness down his body while he thrusts harder, every press of his hips into mine spiraling me higher like a wind-up toy until he lifts his head, that hooded blue-green gaze boring into me, saying everything neither of us will put into words.

I love you .

My release springs free from the deepest part of my soul, my pussy tightening around his thick length until I'm certain he's left an imprint.

"Annika," he cries, and I feel him pulse inside me with his own release, the thickening against my already swollen walls sending corkscrews of pleasure shooting through my hips and belly as I spasm around him, letting go of every ounce of hurt, of pain, of regret, all of it washing down the shower drain while Grady loves me.

His hands gripping me tight.

His body pressed deep inside me.

His forehead drops to mine, dark lashes lowered while he catches his breath.

"Once could never be enough," he murmurs.

I bury my face in his neck and hold on, because he's right.

Once isn't enough.

And—" Ohmygod , the cookies!"

His gaze connects with mine, and we both start laughing, which makes him wince, because he's still buried inside me, and apparently feeling sensitive.

"Tell me you ruin cookies all the time," I say.

He wiggles his brows. "Did I ruin these cookies?" he asks with a playful thrust of his hips before he pulls out of me.

I kiss him hard once more, then push him under the shower spray. "Wash up, Master Baker. We're gonna need a round two."