Drop Dead Sexy(61)

“Bossy, bossy,” I murmured as I got down on the floor. The fire had heated the wood, and it quickly warmed my bare ass.

Catcher eased down on the floor to lie beside me. He dipped a finger into the icing of one of the cupcakes. He then brought the icing-caked finger to my mouth and traced my lips. I fought to the urge to lick some of it off.

He dipped his head, and his tongue darted out to brush the icing off my lips. “Damn, that’s good,” he said.

When he began to suck the leftover icing off my top and bottom lips, I rubbed my thighs together. I never could have imagined an icing-encrusted kiss being erotic, but damn, if it wasn’t. I couldn’t help wondering what it might feel like for him to be doing the icing licking on a different set of my lips.

After swiping the icing off another cupcake, he placed a large dollop on each of my nipples. The feel of the cool confection against them had my nipples already puckering before Catcher even brought his mouth to suction off the icing.

“Mmm,” I murmured as I ran my fingers through his hair. When I tugged on the strands, his mouth tugged harder on my nipples. My legs were now scissoring back and forth to get much-needed friction to my *.

I peered curiously up at him when he took the icing-less cupcakes and crumbled them over my breasts and abdomen. “You look good enough to eat,” he teased while wagging his eyebrows. He then dipped his head and began eating the cupcakes off me. His tongue and teeth grazing my skin caused me to moan. “Does that feel good, babe?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Fuck me, Liv. You tasted sweet as hell before, but I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of tasting you now.”

The feeling was mutual. I didn’t think I could ever grow tired of the feel of his lips and teeth on my skin as he nipped and sucked every morsel of cupcake off my body.

As if he had read my mind earlier, Catcher took his next bunch of icing straight between my legs. He slathered it over my *, covering my clit and labia. I had a momentary panic that like Jesse and the latex condom, I had some undiscovered vaginal allergy to baked goods, and my hoo-hah was going to swell up.

After flashing me a wicked grin, Catcher buried his mouth in me. “Oh God, Catcher!” I cried. One of my hands smacked down on the floor while the other went to his hair. My nails raked across his scalp as his teeth grazed my clit. His tongue seemed to be everywhere as he licked and sucked the icing. My eyes rolled back in my head.

Holy Shiiiiiiiiit! Never. Felt. This. Good. His tongue. The pressure. His tongue. Damn, it was too much.

An orgasm came charging through like a freight train. I convulsed and cursed as I rode it down. How the man had managed to deliver such an orgasm without even laying a finger on me, or more specifically in me, was beyond my comprehension. He had serious talent.

Of course, I was probably going to be combing cupcake crumbs from my vag for at least a week, not to mention probably getting an icing-induced yeast infection. But damn, it was worth it.

Catcher raised his head up from between my legs and swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Best. Fucking. Cupcakes. Ever.”

And even though I hadn’t had a single bite of one, I had to agree with him. But now I needed him inside me. Reaching up, I pulled his face to mine and kissed him, hoping he got the message. Boy, did he ever.

After that night, I would never be able to look at another cupcake without getting slightly aroused.





The second time I spent the night with Catcher it was the sunlight streaming through the curtains, and not a rooster, that woke me up. A pleased sigh escaped my lips at the feel of his warm body pressed against mine, his arm wrapped protectively around me. Everything about last night had been wonderful. Getting to have a real date with him was everything I hoped it would be and then some. I’d never in my wildest dreams ever imagined turning a one-night stand into a relationship, but with the way things were going, that’s where we seemed to be headed.

A relationship.

Two words I’d given up ever hearing my name associated with again. But here I was.

Although I hated to leave the comfort of Catcher’s bed and embrace, my bladder was screaming in agony to be relieved. So I took his dead-weight arm and put it behind me. Then I slid across the mattress and got out of bed. I tip-toed across the hardwood floors to the bathroom so as not to wake Catcher.

“Wow,” I whispered when I walked into the master bathroom. It was seriously gorgeous with dark brown tile and brown and white granite countertops. As I took in the jetted tub and double glass doors of the shower, I couldn’t help being impressed that Catcher and his brother had done the work themselves.

An idea popped into my head. I wanted to do something to show Catcher how much I cared about him. What better way to do that than by cooking him breakfast and then serving it to him in bed. I wasn’t holding out a lot of hope for that since we’d had to get the ingredients for dinner last night at the store. At the very least, I could bring him coffee in bed.

Once I flushed the toilet and washed my hands, I borrowed Catcher’s comb and smoothed down my out-of-control bed hair. Since frying anything naked was not only not hygienic, but potentially painful, I grabbed Catcher’s robe off and slid it on. My eyes closed in bliss as Catcher’s scent enveloped me. Just his smell sent an electrifying tingle between my legs. While I wanted nothing more than to run out of the bathroom and tackle him for a quick morning delight, I stayed strong in my resolve to surprise him with breakfast.