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Authors: Seressia Glass

Spice

BOOK: Spice
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THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) LLC

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

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penguin.com

A Penguin Random House Company

This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

Copyright © 2014 by Seressia Glass.

Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

HEAT and the HEAT design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-16127-6

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication

Glass, Seressia.

Spice / Seressia Glass. — Heat trade paperback edition.

p. cm.

ISBN 978-0-425-27509-2 (paperback)

1. Confectioners—Fiction. 2. College teachers—Fiction. I. Title.

PS3557.L345S65 2014

813'.54—dc23

2014012892

PUBLISHING HISTORY

Heat trade paperback edition / November 2014

Cover photograph by Regina Wamba / Ninestock.com.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Version_1

To my husband, Larry, for your love and inspiration and support. I couldn't do it without you. Thanks for being a part of my life.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I have so many wonderful people to thank for helping me with this story from genesis to completion. My agent, Jenny Bent, and everyone at the Bent Agency—you are all amazing to this neurotic writer. To my editor, Cindy Hwang, and the staff at Berkley—thanks for making my story even better. I'd also like to thank the Friday Night Writes crew and the ladies of the Mastermind Writers Group—I'm grateful to be connected to such a wonderful group of supportive and inspiring people.

Finally, to anyone suffering through addiction: If you're ready, there is help out there. You don't have to endure it alone.

CONTENTS

TITLE PAGE

COPYRIGHT

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

 

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ONE

“G
irlfriend's working a new 'do, I see,” Audie slyly observed as Nadia joined her friends at the café table. “Anything we should know?”

The other two women—Vanessa Longfellow and Nadia's business partner, Siobhan Malloy—looked at her in expectation. “I felt like a change, is all,” Nadia told them, one hand reaching for her hair. She'd paid the stylist more money than she felt comfortable spending post-Hollywood, but couldn't deny the results. Her no-nonsense ponytail was gone, replaced by a shoulder-length layered cut with streaks of burgundy and copper highlighting the dark brown.

“Uh-huh,” Siobhan said. “You suddenly felt like a change. Anything to do with that anniversary we just celebrated?”

“Thanks, Siobhan.” Nadia rolled her eyes. Yeah, she'd just celebrated her fourth “birthday”—four years being drug free—but she was also staring thirty in the face like a deer caught in headlights. These women made it bearable: Siobhan “Sugar” Malloy, the best business partner a girl could want, and Audie and Vanessa, two women she hadn't known six months ago. She'd met them for the first time when she and Siobhan had decided to keep the café open late on Tuesday nights as a meeting place for a variety of support groups. It didn't matter what the person had survived—burnout, divorce, abusive relationships, or, in Siobhan's and Nadia's case, drug addiction—all were welcome. It quickly became a necessary component of their week, a guaranteed time to decompress and talk about anything.

“I just think it's time,” she finally said. “Time for a fresh start, a fresh look.”

“Which can only mean one thing!” Vanessa exclaimed. “Our girl's ready to wade into the dating pool again.”

“About time you decide to put yourself out there.” Siobhan sipped her tea, her blue-gray eyes sparkling. “You're too young to be a nun.”

“So are you, partner,” Nadia shot back. “Especially with all those studs at your burlesque shows standing around with their tongues hanging out like a pack of dogs fighting over a juicy steak.”

“Yeah.” Siobhan snorted. “A thirty-five-year-old steak.”

“Like they care when they see that smoking-hot bod you've got.” Nadia shook her head. “Anyway, I don't think there was anything wrong with being married to the job for a little while. We had to focus on getting Sugar and Spice off the ground. It was worth all the time, blood, sweat, and tears we put into it.”

“Damn right, it was.” Audie waved her peanut butter and bacon muffin. “This is the best damn thing I've ever eaten, and it doesn't even have chocolate in it!”

“No one's saying it wasn't,” Siobhan said. “We did what we had to do to make this place a success. I think it's okay to ease up a little bit now. And I definitely think it's time for you to have a relationship.”

“No! No.” Nadia waved her hands. “Sex, yes. Relationship, no. I want the feels without all the drama. Like a male escort.”

Vanessa, the proper one of the bunch, narrowed her eyes. “You do know that's illegal, right?”

“Geesh, guys, I'm not stupid. I'm not looking for danger, but I'm not looking for true love either. I don't even believe it exists. I just think it's time for me, for all of us, to think about what makes us happy on multiple levels and take some time to pursue it. If we get a little something-something in the meantime, that's just gravy.”

“You've obviously been thinking about this a lot,” Siobhan remarked. “So spill the secrets you saw in the tea leaves.”

Nadia ignored the sarcasm. “Yeah, I have been thinking. My track record with relationships sucks. The best one I've ever had was with my therapist, and all I did was talk his ear off for an hour every week. How messed up is that?”

She sighed. “So, no to relationships. But sex? Bring it on. The wilder the better.”

A wicked glint lit Audie's eyes. At twenty-five, she was the youngest and most sexually liberated of them, sometimes overly so, which was why she'd joined their Tuesday night group. “So you want to let your freak flag fly? I betcha you can find a couple of college boys who'll step up for fun sexy-times. I could hook you up.”

“No!” Siobhan and Vanessa said together. Vanessa put a hand on Audie's forearm. “No offense,
chica
, but your taste in men needs an upgrade. Nadia doesn't need a douche bag for this.”

Nadia laughed at Audie's outraged expression. “No boys, no matter the stamina,” she clarified. “I want a man. A man who's into more than vanilla sex. A man who will bend me over the sofa a time or two.”

“Go on, girl.” They leaned in closer.

Nadia's voice rose. “I want a man who knows that
The Perfumed Garden
isn't a boutique in the mall.”

“Preach it!”

“I want a man with a cock that should be classified as a weapon of mass seduction.”

“I know that's right!”

“I want a man who doesn't freak out when you successfully hit the male version of the G-spot while sucking him dry.”

“Okay already! We got it. God.” Vanessa swallowed some of her iced tea, then peered into the glass. “I think I need some Long Island in this tea now.”

“Sorry, Nessa.” Nadia smiled at the group. “You know I've just had my imagination and my B.O.B. for the last few years, and there's only so much the battery-operated boyfriend can do. I'm ready for more. I'm going to get my happy on, dammit. And right now, being happy means no more goody-two-shoes.”

“Here's to no more goody-two-shoes.” Siobhan raised her glass. “At least when it comes to sex.”

The others raised their cups and mugs and echoed her. “At least when it comes to sex!”

“Okay, I have a question,” Audie said as she set her mug down. “What's this
Perfumed Garden
stuff? I mean, it really does sound like a store in the mall.”

“It's not.” Nadia pushed her bangs back. “It's basically an Arabic erotic text from the sixteenth century or so. Kinda like the
Kama Sutra
.”

“So, Nadia.” Vanessa's smile was completely predatory as the other women sipped their drinks. “Got anyone in particular on your radar?”

“At the moment, no one.” Nadia cut her eyes at Vanessa, wondering at the sly grin that curved her lips. “I just made my mind up to jump into this. You know that.”

“All righty, then.” Vanessa rubbed her hands together. “I'll make a suggestion.”

“It's not somebody Audie's dated, is it?”

“I don't think so. What about the professor over there?” Vanessa tossed her chin toward the front windows, where they had several plush chairs and side tables set aside for those who liked to linger. A dark-haired man sat in one of the chairs, a tablet in one hand. He came in often, becoming a regular over the last few weeks, always ordering a matcha tea latte and a sticky bun.

“He's a professor?” Nadia asked Vanessa, who also taught at Herscher University, the research institution that the town of Crimson Bay had been built around.

“He is. Dr. Kaname Sullivan is his name. I think he more than meets your requirements, based on what I've heard.”

They all leaned closer to Vanessa. “What have you heard?” Siobhan asked.

Vanessa blotted at her lips with a delicate pat of her napkin. How the bronze-skinned woman managed to eat and drink without marring her plum lipstick was a skill Nadia admired and envied. “He teaches human sexuality, and his classes are always packed. Almost all the students—the female ones, at least—call him Professor Sex. Apparently he practices what he teaches.”

“Really.” Audie's voice had a purr to it, like a lazy cat deciding it was time to go hunting.

Vanessa shot Audie a quelling glance. “Sheathe your claws, missy,” she ordered, before turning back to Nadia. “He became a household name after consulting on a high-profile sexual predator case down in Los Angeles. He's written a couple of successful nonfiction books and consulted with the FBI on some of their more twisted cases.”

“Wow.” Nadia sat back. “Sounds impressive.”
And way out of my league.

Vanessa grinned. “More than that, I think he's interested in you.”

“What?” Nadia spluttered into her iced latte. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I think you do,” Vanessa said in that cultured voice of hers. “He's been in here every day we have. In the same spot. And he hasn't taken a bite of that sticky bun in two minutes. That's suspicious enough right there.”

Nadia refrained from looking at the man in question again. She remembered the first day he'd come into the café. He'd been upset about something—his tie partially undone, his thick hair mussed as if he'd ran his fingers through it repeatedly. She'd pointed him at a chair then brought him the sweet bun and green tea latte without asking him for his preference. He'd taken it, tasted it, and instantly transformed his mood. The smile he'd given her as he'd thanked her had elevated him from nice-looking to handsome, but that had been as far as she'd allowed herself to go back then. Now, though, was a different story.

Maybe the professor had earned his nickname. Still, there was a vast difference in being an expert
on
sex and an expert
at
sex. She darted a quick glance at the man in question, currently pretending to thumb through his tablet. Good-looking in a geeky sort of way, he seemed to be a mix of Asian and European with thick, swept-back dark hair and a goatee framing his angular face, his eyes hidden behind wire-rimmed glasses. Dressed in a navy blazer, pale blue shirt, and khakis, he was definitely not her usual type, though lately she hadn't had a type at all.

She shook her head. “I don't know.”

Audie bit into her muffin, suppressing a moan of pleasure. “Come on, Nadia. You just declared your sexual reawakening. You can't chicken out now. Especially if you can get with Professor Sex.”

“I'm not chickening out. I just . . .” Her voice faded as she looked at the professor again. This time he looked back. She blinked.
Whoa.

The intensity of his gaze stifled her breath and pulled her in. Everything else fell away as their gazes locked and held. She could read challenge and command in his midnight eyes even though his glasses partially concealed them. He'd gone from geeky to gawd-damn in five seconds, and her body instinctively responded, her nipples pebbling, her core clenching. Damn, it had been too long since she'd gotten laid, and she was ready, so very ready. If Professor Sex offered, she'd have to take him up on it.

He raised an eyebrow, and her breath shortened. Then he smiled, and it was so sensual, so full of promise, that she had to shift in her chair. Oh yeah, he was definitely offering. And she was definitely going to accept.

“Earth to Nadia. Come in, Nadia.”

Siobhan waved a hand in front of her eyes, breaking the mesmerizing hold Sullivan had on her. She blinked, surprised to find her friends all staring at her with matching grins. “What?”

“You know what.” Her partner laughed as she pushed Nadia out of her chair. “Professor Sex is waiting on you to check him out. Go get him.”

—

Busted.

Kane flipped through files on his tablet to cover his chagrin. The muffin-lover had nailed him perfectly. He'd been biding his time, studying his target, playing on his unobtrusiveness while waiting for the right moment to make his move. Thanks to the redhead, he had to make his move now. At least the afternoon crowd had thinned out, limiting the witnesses to Nadia's friends.

Nadia Spiceland. He'd wanted her ever since he'd entered the café angry over something or someone he couldn't remember. She'd pointed him to a quiet corner then brought over a pastry of some sort and a cup of tea, a strong, bitter matcha that had reminded him of his mother. That, combined with the scent of baked goods and premium coffee, had calmed him down almost instantly, and one bite into the pastry had made him a goner. Nadia's heart-shaped face, the ready smile on her full lips, and the way she remembered all the regulars had completely won him over. The sweet curve of her hips and high, full breasts only added to her allure. He wanted her for all that she was and for all the things she wasn't: a student, faculty, shy, or married.

He wanted her because the look in her eyes challenged him, dared him to try to please her. He'd gone hard hearing her sexual declaration, need gripping him at the image of handling her smooth curves, bending her over a couch and fucking her until they were both too tired to stand. He wanted to feel her gripping him, milking him until he was empty. He just wanted her, period.

He gathered his things, then stood with resolve. So, sweet Nadia Spiceland was free and on the prowl. And most importantly, didn't want vanilla sex. Good to know. He didn't do vanilla either.

“Hi, Professor Sullivan.” Nadia gave him her best professional smile as she met him at the counter. She'd always called him “sir” before, and he'd seen no reason to correct that. “Did you enjoy the bun?”

BOOK: Spice
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