I was told yesterday and have been told many times since Pink Buttercream Frosting that when people thing of me as a writer the things that come to mind have been cupcakes, BDSM, and emotion. It’s only been recently that the BDSM was dropped and honestly, that’s fine with me. I used to want to be an author of erotic BDSM romance, but that was dashed on the rocks by several scathing, mean, less than constructive reviews. My books are not the only ones to have received them and haven’t been the last.
And yes, that was years ago.
And yes, as an author, I’m supposed to look beyond that and keep plugging along. But I was new to all this. My publisher, Samhain Publishing knew what they were doing. Why would they publish a book that was so wrong? My writing of BDSM came from a base of knowledge and personal research that other writers of BDSM do not and will never have. It is more than the act and it is more than the command of a voice. To me. That’s the important part to remember. To. Me.
So, after Pink Buttercream Frosting and after Sweet Caroline and Cracklin’ Rosie, I changed. My writing changed. I was told ‘you don’t write that the way they want it’, ‘but that’s not what you write’, ‘you shouldn’t try to write that’…
Now, when people think about my writing, it is cupcakes still, thank you, and emotion. I can write emotion. I have felt every inch of emotional range since I began in this business from despair to elation and everything in between. I have made friends and lost them. I have had some wonderful editors and some…not. I have cried and laughed and if I can say anything at all about the experiences, I can say that I have grown a lot.
You must be wondering what all this has to do with Passionate Sprinkles Books, huh? In a long-winded, round about way, it has a lot to do with it. Just bare with me…
I had to come up with an imprint name for my self-published print books when I started the print process on The Cupcake Cowboy. I wanted something that I would use more than once, and I didn’t want to have to go back and use something different later. Many self-published authors have created imprint names and publisher names for their titles and I’ve been wracking my brain for about a year for something that fit me.
Whey my friend mentioned yesterday that when she thinks of me, she thinks cupcakes and emotion, I thought about all the times people have said that to me in the last few years, and I started toying and playing with words to see what I could come up with.
According to Merriam-Webster Dictionary, Passionate means: having, showing, or expressing strong emotions or beliefs; expressing or relating to strong sexual or romantic feelings
Sprinkles…well, who doesn’t like sprinkles on their cupcakes, right? Or on top of a mound of whipped cream with a long-stemmed cherry? Rainbow Nonpareils (the small, sugar pellets), chocolate or rainbow jimmie sprinkles… There are even sprinkles of cinnamon on my lattes. I could coarsely grind coffee beans and use them as sprinkles (with a little coarse sugar, too). Sprinkles are sweet, decorative, pretty… Sprinkles are the extra measure…
Books would be self-explanatory 😉
What was come up with, and what I’ve passed by several other friends, was Passionate Sprinkles Books. They’ve loved it. So, this is going to be on the print books that I self-publish. It’s not sexy, but, it’s reflective.
And I know there are some readers who want to know if I will ever write in the same vein as Pink Buttercream Frosting again and all I can say is, Maybe.
I thought you all might like to take a gander at the very rough draft of the first chapter of the next Masked installment, Exposed.
There is no release date for it yet, but it is coming…
Exposed, Chapter One
Thor glanced at the door for what had to be the hundredth time since he’d arrived at seven. His shift at Abyss hadn’t started until nine, but he’d been hopeful. With each minute that passed, his hope crashed.
He bit back a curse and turned back to the young woman strapped to the spanking bench in front of him. Her thong covered behind quivered with each strike of the whip and wiggled with each pause. Pale stripes criss-crossed her ass and the back of her thighs.
Once upon a time a woman would have turned him on as much as a man, but since becoming involved with Bobby, Thor had realized that no one, woman or man, tripped him up or turned him on quite like his lover.
Were they even lovers? They rarely engaged in BDSM play anymore and sex was following suit. Thor wasn’t sure what the hell was up and it was driving him up the fucking wall. Bobby hardly made use of his room at Thor’s house or Thor’s bed even. Dates, dinner, coffee, phone calls were too far between.
He shook his head and forced himself to get back into the game at hand. He needed the release whipping, topping gave him, and there was a whole list of willing bodies who’d signed theirs names in order to give it to him.
Rolling his wrist, the whip slithered against the floor like a snake. With a flick, the tail wrapped around the half-naked girl’s calf. If he wanted, he could snap the scrap of lace off her hips. He could make her come with one smarting tease to her clit. But he didn’t. He merely unwound the leather from her leg, flipped his wrist in an underhand move and caught the underside quivering right buttock. He followed with the left, let the whip wrap her hip and the tip of the tail lick between her legs like a tongue. She moaned and strained against the cuffs binding her.
Her dominant stood to the side watching. He was hard inside his leather pants and when Thor looked his way, the man nodded and mouthed the word bra. Whipping clothing off someone took skill and a light enough touch not to cut skin, but firm enough to tear fabric. It was a delicate balance and something Thor had worked hard at learning. Much like he’d worked hard at learning everything he knew about dominance, submission, sex, and spankings.
He stepped up to the woman, ran his hand over the band of the pale pink lace bra across her back. It clasped in the front and provided no obstruction for the whip. “It’ll sting,” he said into her ear. The music in the club bumped and throbbed all around them. He had to speak loud enough to be heard over it, but tried to keep the words between them. “It won’t break the skin, but I’m afraid the bra won’t be wearable afterward.”
There was lightness in his tone and her dilated eyes sparkled. “I know. He wants my tits naked for people to see.” Her voice fairly vibrated with arousal and she couldn’t keep her torso still against the leather of the sawhorse. Thor inclined his head in acknowledgement and moved back.
Snapping the bra would be easier if she were standing against the cross, but he could do it this way too.
No one around them had any idea what he was about to do other than the girl’s dominant. It would be a good show for those watching and it would take all of Thor’s concentration to do it right and keep his promise not to make her bleed. It would take his mind off Bobby and off his need for the man that seemed to be pushing him away at every turn.
At least for a moment.
Thor twisted his wrist to the right, then the left creating a figure eight with the tail of the whip, first on the ground, then inches up. He backed away as he raised the whip, the hissing sound filling the air around him. He kept an eye on the leather and on the girl, the way both undulated and moved. The current in the air crackled and red stripes lined her back up to the bra, over it, between her shoulders and down again. Her moans could be heard over the music and the voices of the club goers. Thor didn’t know if she got off on the exhibition or on the whipping. Granted, what he did to her in the club was likely nothing compared to what her dominant did to her in private. Then again, he couldn’t be sure. Something had her on the edge though and Thor was happy to help push her closer toward it.
Back and forth the whip crossed her skin and in a pointed move, with a hard, controlled snap of his wrist, the whip sliced through the delicate lace.
He heard a gasp as he let the leather drift down her body. She was rocking, humping something only she could see and feel. She was having an orgasm.
Her dominant clapped Thor on the shoulder in a gesture of thanks but Thor did nothing more than give a short nod. He stepped out of the play area to catch his breath and get another, better look at the door he knew Bobby wasn’t going to walk through.
Thor hung his head and closed his eyes. A confrontation was coming and he wasn’t looking forward to it.
“Thor?” Gareth called to him, loud enough for Thor to hear him. Thor’s only acknowledgement was the lift of one eyebrow. He didn’t know what label Gareth subscribed to, if any at all. Kinkster. Spanker. Sadist. Dominant. Who knew nowadays. Most serious people in the lifestyle hated labels but there were many who were happy to quickly give a list of their position affiliations, which were at times as long as Thor was tall. He didn’t care really. As long as no one was seriously hurt who didn’t want to be, it was none of his business.
Gareth held up the legal pad which held the name of the next girl up. She was being cuffed in place against the cross in the corner. She was clad in a school girl outfit: thigh high white stockings, red plaid skirt, button down shirt, black and white Mary Jane shoes. Her hair was pulled into tight pigtails and tied with ribbons that matched her skirt.
She was a pretty girl, probably not much older than twenty-five if that… She was smiling at Thor while Gareth secured her.
“What’s your pleasure?” he asked her, stepping into her personal space so he could hear her.
“Both of you.”
“We can do that. Whip or flogger?”
“Flogger. On my skin.” She looked down then back up with suggestion looming in her eyes.
Thor smiled. He hadn’t unbuttoned a woman’s shirt in a long time and in truth he didn’t miss it. He slid one smooth button through the small hole until he could open the cotton fabric exposing her white lace bra and soft belly. Her breasts lifted and lowered as her anticipation racheted up. While he didn’t miss women, he did miss undressing Bobby, exposing his lover’s skin to his view.
Gareth picked up the thick tailed flogger. Suede and heavy, it would thud against the young woman’s body. Thor, on the other hand, picked up the thin tailed leather one. It would snap and sting. She’d experience different sensations and the marks left behind would tell different tales.
He’d worked with Gareth only twice before, but neither person complained after, and they were always being asked to do more double-teaming. Maybe they should consider it.
“You start her off,” Thor said.
“You sure you want to do this? You seem kind of distracted, man.”
Thor grunted in response. Gareth didn’t even know the half of it. At the same time, the man was right. Thor was and he needed to get his head in the game or the girl could get hurt. He had to forget about his submissive and whatever the issues were and get on with the business at hand. But that was just the thing. He didn’t know what the issues were. They worked well for months after Thanksgiving with Bobby’s parents, but slowly things started to unravel. Thor couldn’t put his finger on it, couldn’t pinpoint any one thing that would have made Bobby pull away, but he did and he still was and if Thor didn’t figure it out soon, he could lose Bobby. The thought of that made his gut ache and his chest hurt so much he thought he’d…
Right now wasn’t the time and Abyss wasn’t the place to lose his head.
Out of the corner of his eye, Thor saw Gareth loosening up his arm, his wrist, gripping and re-gripping the flogger. Thor did the same with his. Even though he’d just used a whip and his shoulders were pretty loose and fluid, the flogger’s weight was distributed differently from the tip of the tails to the end of the grip.
Thor turned away, grabbed a swallow of water, looked around at the gathered crowd but didn’t even really see them until he spotted a friendly face. Aidn. The man inclined his head and something about that gesture, about Aidn being there eased some of the tension that had been flowing through Thor.
He turned back to Gareth who was taking his own gulp of water. They locked gazes and both knew it was time. Thor shook himself, rolled his neck, winked at the girl bound to his cross, and gestured for Gareth to begin.
The heavy suede flew through the air and connected with the tender flesh of the girl’s breasts which rose above the white cups of her bra. She sucked in a breath and for a small moment hers smile faltered, but she quickly regained her composure. Thor wasn’t fond of Gareth’s first strike, but waited to see how he followed up.
Gareth stepped closer to her, stroked her face with one hand while with the other, he swished the floggers up her thighs, teased the front of her skirt with it until her panties were exposed for a brief moment. She gasped, a sound Thor could hear over the noise of the club, her eyes rolled, and she bit at the corner of her bottom lip as Gareth continued to trail the flogger up her body. By the time it reached her bra, she was fairly panting and arching for more.
Thor couldn’t help but smile. Gareth connected with the girl in that span of time and she was nothing more than putty in his hands. Thor had only had that, gave that kind of personal attention to two people in all the years he’d been playing at Abyss. He smiled at the memory of those encounters.
Gareth moved away from the girl slowly, taking the flogger with him, but not before he left her aching. He flogged her steadily from her thighs to her chest and back again several times and each strike, she leaned forward for more. Or leaned forward as much as her bound arms would let her.
A nod from Gareth told Thor it was his turn. The girl looked at him too and he tried for an easy smile. Truth was, he was turned on. It wasn’t something that happened all the time and it wasn’t a physical thing. His did wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t soft either. The feeling of arousal was in his gut, his soul and it traveled the length of his body and it’s nerve endings from his feet inside his boots to the ends of his hair.
It wasn’t about the woman either. It was about the act, the flogging, the sweat pouring down his back under the thin, flowing shirt he wore. It was about the air that flowed between his legs and under the kilt.
She smiled at him as well and there was a little trepidation in her gaze. He couldn’t blame her. The sensual flogging she’d received from Gareth was not what she’d get from Thor.
He let her feel the tips of the leather against her cheek until her blue eyes took on that hooded, needy look again and then tugged at the right cup of her bra. He dangled the ends of the flogger inside enough to tickle her nipple. The reaction he got out of her with that move was exactly what he’d wanted. She was his, or rather, she belonged to the power of the leather he held. And that’s what he loved when he played here at Abyss. The love affair people had for five or ten minutes with the implements he held in his hand.
“It’s going to hurt,” he reminded her.
“Please,” was all she said in return.
“Your wish is my command and pleasure.” Thor placed a kiss on her forehead and moved around the cross, out of her line of sight. The tails dangled over her shoulders, down her arms, and crossed her belly from behind. When next she saw him, it was through the leather that arced through the air and caught her chest. Thin pink lines appeared, even over the red flush already there. Another slice through the air and the leather flipped the hem of her skirt up to her waist and wrapped itself around her hip.
Ten more passes of the flogger across her thighs and belly, then Gareth joined in. One up, one down, and then they switched. It was a careful dance that seemed effortless in its execution. Thor knew where Gareth was going to step and Gareth knew where Thor was going to be. Front steps, back steps, side steps… All to ensure the young woman, the schoolgirl, was given as complete and thorough a flogging as possible.
Her cheeks were red, her eyes were bright, and her lips were swollen. She was beautiful this way, aroused by the body whipping she was taking. Her eagerness for the lashes made him smile, reminded him why he loved this gig so much…
Gareth and he switched places again to finish her off. She’d thrust out her chest, her nipples pressed against her bra, and she strained against her bonds. Some did that, some also sank into the bondage. Different submissives handled each different sensation and implement in their own unique ways, but they all took to whatever tempted them, eased them into the headspace they craved.
Thor let his flogger fall away and gave way to Gareth. He brought her down slowly, easing her back to some semblance of knowing where she was. She was striped from collarbone to thigh with a mix of thin and thick lines. She wouldn’t have any bruises, but the marks would still be visible through the weekend.
Applause went up around them and for the first time since they started, Thor remembered the club. It was out of his mind for the duration of play. All that mattered was the sub. Now though, everything else came back to him.
After putting the flogger away and checking on the girl after Gareth had her off the cross, Thor met up with Aidn several feet away. He was leaning against a table when Thor clapped him on the back. “Surprised to see you here.”
“Hey, man.” Aidn gripped Thor on the shoulder. “Your technique is as amazing as ever. You haven’t lost any of it.”
“Thanks. Where’s Bailey?”
“Working late tonight. She’s got to finish a cake for a wedding tomorrow.”
“So you’re out trolling?”
“I called you, went by your place, and figured if there was anywhere you’d be on a Friday night, it would be here. I’m surprised Robert isn’t.”
Thor resisted the urge to rub at his chest. He and Aidn had a few, very brief conversations about the relationship Thor had with Robert. He couldn’t even think of the man as Robert anymore. He was Bobby to Thor. Robert in the business world, Bobby when they were together. “He’s doing the same as Bailey.”
Thor kept a sharp eye on Aidn. There was an odd look of concern on his face which made Thor uneasy. “More often than not lately.”
“Do you know what he’s working on?”
“Some big case.” Thor shrugged, uncomfortable with the conversation, with how little he knew about his lover and his lover’s life apart from him. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to get much more than that out of him.” He kept his gaze forward, but saw out of the corner of his eye Aidn nod, one short up and down movement of his head, and Thor’s unease increased. “What do you know?”
“I know nothing.” Aidn’s face betrayed him. His lips tightened, he closed his eyes briefly.
“Bullshit. Don’t do that.”
“I don’t. I saw him for lunch last week and he didn’t say anything to be about a case, but that’s not unusual in our line of work.”
“You had lunch with him?” The ache in Thor’s chest widened and spread. Bobby hadn’t had enough time for anything, not even to meet Thor for coffee, but he could have lunch with Aidn?
“Yeah. We meet up about once a week. I’ve even told him he should invite you along sometime. I can’t believe he didn’t mention it to you.”
“Well, believe it.”
“Hey, look… Is everything all right?”
“I don’t know,” Thor answered around the hurt clogging his throat. “I just don’t know.”
It amazes me that I can sing the entire Air Supply song just from seeing the title and despite the fact I haven’t heard the words in years. It’s kinda scary sometimes how that happens.
But…are the nights really better? I don’t know. For some, nights are not better. They are sadder, lonelier. For others, they thrive on nights, come alive after dark.
I sometimes write better at night, when the house is quiet, all the animals and family asleep… Other times, as soon as the sun goes down and night settles in, I’m ready for sleep.
Then again, night is when the Abyss opens for play…
“That little blonde has been eyeing you all night.”
“I know,” came the weary reply.
“You should go introduce yourself.”
Aidn looked over at Robert and rolled his eyes. “Yes, what a brilliant idea because the last time I did that, I ended up fucking the girl until she was murmuring my name in her sleep.”
“True, but we’re here to have fun, to enjoy the sights, and maybe even take a couple of them home.”
“I don’t think I’ll be taking any of them home with me, but feel free to take as many home as you’d like.”
“They wouldn’t all fit in the car. You know, I could always…”
“No. Thanks. I’m good.” Truth was, he was bored. The little blonde, the little brunette, the redheaded knockout…he wasn’t interested. He wanted to leave, to go home, open a beer, flip through channels and numb his mind. He wanted to stop thinking about how Bailey fit against him, about how her lips tasted when he kissed her. He wanted all the crazy ideas and desires to go away and leave him in peace. He wanted her bound and naked, writhing in his bed. He wanted to lose himself in her, be with her as she discovered more of herself and this lifestyle that drew them both. He wanted to keep her.
The sound of a flogger connecting with bare skin brought his head up and around. A crowd surrounded Thor’s play station as always. Aidn smiled. He’d taught the man everything he knew a few years back and was proud that the younger man had made a name for himself. He was giving and conducting workshops on his own now.
As he started to look away, the crowd shifted and Aidn was able to get a look at the flogger’s current lover. “Bailey.”
He closed his eyes, certain he was seeing things, but when he opened them again, she was still there, bound to the X. “Bailey. What the hell is she doing?”
“Well, it looks like she’s…well, that she’s…”
“She loves it. The few times I’ve been with her, she had that same look whenever I touched her. She was so lost in everything I was doing to her. She can’t mask it, can’t hide it, and she can’t fake it. The need to serve, the hunger to give of herself and her body is something she craves.”
“This is so fucking wrong. She’s…” He stalked off in her direction without finishing his comment. He was floored, so taken aback by the fact that she was there in the first place. It really shouldn’t surprise him, she’d been there many times before and he wasn’t sure why it hadn’t dawned on him that she would be there tonight. It was more the fact that she was not only there but half-naked and being flogged. Thor looked as lost in it as Bailey did.
That’s when the jealousy hit him. Fuck.
Stepping through the crowd of people, he stopped directly in front of her line of vision so that when she opened her eyes, his face would be the first thing that registered.
Possessiveness hummed through his blood. He was so…not a possessive man. This girl brought out so much in him that he wasn’t used to feeling, thinking, and he was really getting tired of it. He just didn’t know how or what to do about it. At least that’s what his head said. His gut and his dick were saying something completely different. They were saying mine.
He needed to calm down. If she were to look at him right now, she’d likely be scared that he’d drag her out of there like a caveman. Aidn smirked. Not a bad idea actually.
“What are you going to do?” Robert whispered from behind him.
“Whatever I need to do.”
Aidn watched Thor’s hands caress the light, insistent marks on her pale skin left by the flogger. It was beautiful on her, the contrast. He could almost imagine the heat coming off her. She was wet, too. He didn’t have to touch her to know that between her legs she was soaking, fucking wet.
Another round of flogger meeting flesh commenced. Her back arched into the tails and her fingers curled into fists. Her lips thinned, compressed together, but she didn’t cry out. Thor’s wrist twisted in a side-to-side motion that brought the flogger down in a swish across her shoulders and back, ass and thighs in a constant barrage. She wiggled against the cross, tugged at her bindings and when Thor rubbed her back, massaged the tension from her muscles, she calmed instantly.
She smiled when Thor whispered something against her hair and she slowly opened her eyes. Aidn stepped closer and it took less than a second for the haze to clear. Bingo
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What about you? Are you a night person or a day person. A copy of Pink Buttercream Frosting is up for grabs if you leave a comment…
Also, make sure to check out the following author blogs for more Snippet Saturday…
Author’s Choice. I love these days. I don’t hurt my brain so much trying to figure out what book to use and post from. I don’t have to dig through my book files to find the right book for what that week’s particular theme is.
At the same time, I love participating in Snippet Saturday for those very reasons. I know, I’m a little goofy. It’s all right. I know it.
Pink Buttercream Frosting has been on my mind a lot lately. Lately being since August when more than a handful of people came to me and wanted to know when I was going to write more books like it. Emotion. D/s. Frosting. So, today, I though that my choice for snippets would be from Pink Buttercream Frosting…
Aidn sat outside the front of Bailey’s townhouse. What in the hell was he doing? Cutting the engine of the Jeep, he looked around the area a little.
Bailey Bakes was painted in swirls of pink, purple and brown on a wooden sigh that hung from an iron rod beside the glass door. It had a touch of class to it, historical. “Now or never,” he murmured, getting out and locking the Jeep’s doors. Before he could think about it again, he crossed the sidewalk and pushed open the front door, stepping inside the small bakery. A bell jingled above his head and the smell of vanilla assailed him.
“Hi, can I help…”
Bailey’s words trailed off once she raised her eyes. She was wiping her hands on an apron adorned with cupcakes and had a smudge of white across her forehead.
She swallowed visibly. “What are you doing here, Aidn?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.” He looked around, taking in the tiny shop, knowing his answer wasn’t adequate. His eyes lit on the front window display of three very beautiful, very different in design wedding cakes. He walked over, stuffing his hands in his pockets for lack of anything better to do with them other than to reach for her, to know if she was as soft and exciting to the touch as before. “Did you make these?”
“I decorated them. They aren’t really cakes.”
I really need to get the hell away from you. There was such warmth in the bakery, like coming home after school on a spring day to a house smelling of fresh baked cookies. He wasn’t a homey kind of guy, he wasn’t nostalgic, but one would never have known that if they were privy to his thoughts in that moment. Robert would be having a damn field day with this. He needed to get away from her and the good-bye word was on his lips but that’s not what was coming out. “What are they?”
She giggled and the sound caused something in his heart to tighten and then loosen. Big fucking danger zone.
“They’re actually made from foam that is cut and shaped, then covered with icing and fondant and decorated.”
“Huh. Learn something new every day. You do bake real cakes though, right?”
She rolled her eyes and his hand itched to spank her for the gesture. She was teasing with him, but still, the urge to bend her over his knees and yank her jeans and panties off so he could give her a good bare-hand-to-bare-ass spanking was nearly overwhelming.
“Yes, of course I do. I wouldn’t make any money otherwise.”
“Did you go to school to learn this?”
“A few years before my divorce, I started baking a lot, took some cake decorating classes. I found that I enjoyed it, that I was good at it. I took some business courses, a few pastry courses and well, here I am.”
“This is why you were so in love with the lotion, isn’t it?”
She nodded along with letting another giggle escape. He should leave, but he was going to kiss her instead.
And he did. With all the tenderness he could muster, he cupped her face with one hand and pulled her flush against his body with the other, lowered his head and kissed her surprised mouth. It was soft and gentle, a mere tasting of her.
When he lifted his head long before he wanted to and looked at her, her eyes slowly opened to meet his. She licked her lips and he bit back a groan.
“Oh wow,” she whispered.
“Indeed,” he whispered back, tasting the corner of her mouth.
“I…” She blew out a breath then gulped another back in. “That was…”
He focused his gaze on her face. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes were bright with hunger, and he could see her pulse beating wildly in her neck. She wanted him. She was aroused and hot for him just like that. In the space of a heartbeat, she’d gone from wary and business-like to lusting. It was incredibly tempting, knowing he had that kind of power over her.
“Ask me for another kiss, Bailey.”
“Please, may I have another kiss?”
Her eyes widened once the word registered. He wasn’t sure why he’d put it out there, put the line in the sand, but he wouldn’t take it back. It seemed the right thing to do.
“Please, may I have another kiss, sir?”
He couldn’t explain his reaction to hearing her say ‘sir’…pride, power, happiness.
“I want to try something. Will you let me?”
“I want you to close your eyes. Just listen to my voice. Trust me. Please, Bailey?”
She twisted the apron strings between her fingers and looked down at the ground. “Why?”
“In one of the books on your bookshelf you tagged a page about sensory deprivation and while I could likely find something to blindfold you with, I’d rather just ask you to close your eyes, to listen to my voice, to just talk to me and let me in.”
Aidn could see she was struggling just as much as he was with the request. She was fidgeting with her fingers, wouldn’t look at him, and worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. When she finally lifted her head, her eyes were closed and his heart skipped a beat. “Good girl. Now, say it again. Say ‘sir’ again.”
She licked her lips and swallowed hard. “Sir.”
He dropped his hands from her hair and took a measured step back, taking in some air. What was he doing? Why wasn’t he leaving? Why was he leading her down a submissive path when it was all kinds of wrong for him to do so? Why couldn’t he resist her?
“Oh yes, such a good girl.”
Okay, so yeah… Anyone else want some frosting? Homemade, of course…
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C’mon. Sing along with me… You know the words.
We all need someone to lean on once in a while. Some of us need to lean on someone a lot more than once in a while. And some of us try very hard NOT to lean on anyone at all EVER. I think that’s sad. There’s nothing wrong with needing some support, needing someone to help shoulder the burden, needing someone you can count on to be there for you. I truly value and treasure those people. Sometimes they are old friends and sometimes they’re new friends and you wonder how you ever got along without them…
There are even some friends who know us better than we know ourselves and make us lean on them, even when we don’t want to…
Bailey needed to bake, to play. It helped her forget, to cope through tough times.
Half a bag of powdered sugar later, along with half a pound of butter, some vanilla, and cream, she was feeling pretty good. Aidn hadn’t crossed her mind but three or four hundred times. Surely, that was some sort of improvement.
She didn’t hear the phone until she’d turned off the mixer. “Hello?” she said absently into the cell phone that she dug out of her pocket, spreading sugar dust everywhere on her jeans. Great.
“What are you doing Saturday night?”
“Hmmmm? And hello to you, too. Saturday night? Nothing that I know of, why?”
“Want to go to Abyss?”
“Oh, no. No, I don’t.” She ran her finger along the inside of the bowl, scooping up some frosting.
“Come on. You haven’t been out of the house in two weeks.”
“Of course I have. I’ve been in the bakery and it’s been really busy. Weddings and all that, you know.”
“That’s not all you’ve been doing. You’re moping over that guy and eating icing.”
Bailey wiped off the mound of icing on her finger. “I am not moping over anyone. I have been working. A lot.” And yes, eating icing. Lots and lots of it. And feeling guilty for it and feeling sad that he left and strangely motivated at the same time to work harder, create more. Anything at all really to keep from thinking about him. He touched what she’d always known was there, what she’d been hiding inside herself… Bailey stuck her tongue out at the phone in a defiant, childish gesture and refused to give him another thought…for at least the next five minutes.
“You’re going Saturday night.”
“No, really, Jen, I don’t want to go. Maybe next time.” In about ten years.
“No. I’m buying your ticket today and I’ll be by to get you at 8:30 on Saturday night.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“I don’t care. We’re going. You need to get over that. It was one day. And only for a few hours at that. Nothing to still be thinking about.”
“You don’t understand.” Her voice sounded weak and wimpy. She hated that.
“I do understand. I’ve had one-night stands before.
He was different. I know he was only a one-time thing. I knew that the moment he asked me to…but… God, Jen, he was different.”
“I know, B. Has he tried to see you again?”
Bailey laughed sardonically. “No, of course not?”
“We need to go out, have a few drinks, flirt a little.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I do. I’ll pick you up on Saturday night. Dress sexy. Gotta go.” And with that, Jen was gone. Bailey looked at the phone before hanging it up. So much for her objections, but Jen was just trying to help.
She put the cell phone back in her pocket and finished adding color to the frosting. Turning on the mixer, she watched the color shift and weave through the pure white buttercream, getting lost in the swirling of the paddle. Damn. She turned off the machine. The pink wasn’t the right shade. What she had in her head was pale, just a hint of color, but enough that one could tell it was pink and not white.
Oh well. She’d try again later. It was her personal project, to perfect the shade of the frosting. It would look incredible on her chocolate fudge cake. The consistency was perfect, not too sweet, not too heavy, but light and fluffy, whipped butter and cream.
I am on my way to replace a few things that were fried in the lightning strike last week. While I’m out, you should take in the snippets from the following authors:
Megan Hart:Read in bed!
Mandy M Roth
Have a great Saturday!