Free The Heavenly Baker by J J Monroe Page B

insurance.’
    â€˜I’m not sleeping with him because I want to win the competition!’
    â€˜I know that, but it’s got to help.’
    â€˜Do you really have so little faith in our abilities as bakers?’
    â€˜I have every faith,’ she insists. ‘But you sleeping with the host clearly gives us the edge.’
    â€˜It’s not like that. There’s a real chemistry between us.’
    â€˜So you do believe it?’ Carly smiles wickedly.
    â€˜Yes,’ I say.
    â€˜Good, so stop stressing. I think he’s one of the good guys.’
    â€˜But you haven’t met him.’
    â€˜I know, but I get a good feeling about him and I’m rarely wrong where matters of the heart are involved.’
    Carly looks extremely pleased and then it dawns on me. ‘What are you not telling me?’
    â€˜There’s nothing to tell.’
    â€˜You’re hiding something from me. You know I’ll find out.’
    â€˜You haven’t so far,’ comments my best friend, which means she does know something.
    â€˜What is it?’
    â€˜I couldn’t possibly say.’ She looks at her watch. ‘But I think you’re about to find out.’
    Right on cue the bell above the entrance chimes, announcing the arrival of a potential customer.
    â€˜I’ll go,’ offers Carly, skipping out before I can stop her.
    â€˜What aren’t you telling me?’ I call out after her.
    â€˜Wouldn’t you like to know?’ she calls back.
    â€˜Tell me!’
    The door to the nerve centre opens.
    â€˜You know, I didn’t have you down as a shouter.’
    He’s here. He’s right here in my bakery. Somehow Carly knew and I will find out, but later because now I just don’t care. Matt Richards is here on my home turf and he looks heavenly dressed in a clingy black tee, jeans and boots, his hair freshly cut.
    â€˜Wow! You’re here.’
    â€˜I am.’
    â€˜You’re actually here.’
    â€˜Yes.’
    I could talk to him. I could complain about trying to phone him endlessly but it doesn’t matter. It’s all white noise anyway. All that matters is that he is here and I’m feeling super-horny. I can feel the electricity in the air. I can tune everything else out and hear his heartbeat across the room. This is real. What I feel for this man cannot be faked and I see the way that he is looking at me; the easy smile is there but I see the hunger behind his eyes and I know he is hurting as much as I am. We both want this and nothing is going to stop it from happening. In hindsight, though, we probably should have got a room.
    I fling myself at him as if compelled into his arms by some monstrous magnet. He hugs me to him as his lips search out mine and his tongue is hungry and desperate to reacquaint itself with mine. His kisses sizzle, igniting my loins and setting a thousand fuses around my body. His touch is TNT. Blow me away. Like a storm that has been building, leaving the air heavy and pregnant with desire, this wanting within us both cannot be controlled. We are lava bubbling and boiling and in danger of eruption and nothing will prevent the inevitable from becoming a reality.
    We are not silent and we are not subtle. The red mist has descended and we can see no further than sating our own pent-up desires and frustrations. I feel him tug at my jeans, slipping the button free and dragging the denim roughly away. He doesn’t ask. There is no need. His fingers peel away the silk of my panties, feeling me hot and wet and needy. He finds me and the touch of his finger against my pearl causes me to cry out. And then he is silencing my moans with his lips and his tongue drives harder into me and his finger continues to work me into a frenzy and I feel like I am in heaven.
    Matt unbuckles one-handed and then I take over, delving into the deep to unleash his beast. The feel of him, so hard and wanting, is reassuring to a girl