Have Your Cake (8 page)

C
yana stared at the ceiling.
Another night in Asher’s bed.
A void shifted through the thought.
Another night alone.
Twenty years without a man in her bed other than the one she raised.

She groaned against the memory of kissing Asher. The fire in his stare deepened into something dangerous. Fearful anticipation coursed through her blood moments before she’d jumped into his arms to steal more of him. The embarrassment of her actions tugged at her. The twenty years which seemed so right, now felt absolutely wrong.

She sensed a belonging with Asher. Was she desperate or was it something he did to her? How on Earth did she find this man? What would dating a man like him do to her life? Why did he appear now when she had no intention of being in a relationship?

Her thoughts paused. He hadn’t asked her out. Their brief encounters of passion could be categorized as flirting. For all she knew he could have just wanted some fun. Perhaps he was as curious as she. Maybe he really was just a flirt or only wanted one thing.

She nibbled her lower lip. A part of her wished he was looking for a booty call. She wasn’t that type of girl, but it would be much easier to walk away from him then. Her touch was trailing her thighs, teasing the emotion she wished he would satisfy.
Crap.
She could take him up on his offer, but then what kind of girl did it make her? Should she care? She was going back to Chicago after the wedding. There was a slim chance she’d ever see him again, so it really didn’t matter what he’d think of her.

Oh double crap, why am I thinking like this? Leave it alone, Cyana. Just stay away.
Iona will be here soo
n.
She could survive this.

A
gentle knock on the door brought her from the depths of sleep.

“Come in,” she moaned half conscious. Her body never acknowledged her mind's response. She shifted a little after a weight disturbed the bed. She wanted to move but slipped back into the deep slumber.

A strong hand settled on her shoulder. Asher’s voice came soft and soothing. “Wake up, Love. You have a call.”

She jumped into wakefulness; heaving her upper body from the pillow.

“Slow down, Love.”

“Who is it?” Her voice teemed with worry.

“Your sister,” he said. He held the phone out for her.

What time was it? Was Iona okay, Mom, Eric?
“Thank you,” she breathed taking the phone. It was three in the morning. “Iona?
What's wrong?” Her voice came out laced with stress.

A
sher watched Cyana’s reaction to the late night call. Her brow cut into a frown. His gut twisted in a knot. He clenched the mattress. Her face suddenly relaxed. She dropped her jaw.

“I’m going to kill you.” She sighed into the phone. “You scared the crap outta me. Do you know what time it is? I thought something bad happened.” She threw herself back into his pillows and started to laugh.

Relief rocketed through him. His grip on the cushions loosened. In the moment, he was ready to go wherever she needed to go, do whatever had to be done to clear up her problem. A sigh rushed from his lips.

He should leave to let her talk to Iona in peace. But when she giggled, her braless breasts wiggled inside the cotton tank. The movement drew his hunger over the rest of her. The shorts hugged her hips, stopped at the curve where her ass met her hamstrings. He bit back a moan.

“You want to come now? It’s three in the morning.”

Her question locked his chest. Once it started getting late, he’d fancied they weren’t coming. He’d have more time with her. He wasn’t prepared to give her up.
Not now.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m not ready. I’m tired. I’ve been working so hard. On the kitchen here at the mansion. I have to pay for my stay somehow. I can’t let Asher foot the bill for everything. That’s not right. Oh, I can’t wait to show you all the work we did. It’s fabulous. Do you have Mama with you? Girl, you got my mama out this late? Have you lost your mind? Take her home to rest her feet.”

Her gaze met Asher’s. She covered the receiver on the phone. “Is it okay if I stay?”

He nodded.

“Thank you.” She whispered before removing her thumb. “Put her on. Hey Mama. I’m fine, but you need to rest. No ma’am, I forbid you to see me today.” She smiled. Asher’s heart ached. “I’ll wait here for you. Now don’t get up early and rush out. I won’t expect to see you until tomorrow afternoon. I mean it. I love you Mama but you need to take care of yourself. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow
afte
r-
noon
. I love you. Good night. Smooches. Iona?” The tone of her voice changed. “You will not bring her by here until after two o’clock. Make her sleep. Okay? All right. I love you. Drive safe.”

She hung up the phone, passing it back to him before rubbing her fingertips over her eyelids. “My god, she scared me.” Cyana sighed.

Asher watched her with a new awareness. There was nothing shy about the phone call. Cyana was bold and demanding. “You really love your family.”

She blinked before looking at him. “Of course, family’s wonderful.”

His chest ached at her reaction to the question. She seemed to answer as if everyone in the known universe should love their folks. “Every conversation I’ve heard sounds like you guys have an open line of communication and really trust each other.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “House full of women. Either everyone loves each other or everyone hates each other. Fortunately, my parents worked real hard at keeping love in the house.”

He reached out, brushing her cheek. “You’re a lucky girl, Cyana. The world can use the kind of love you and your family share.”

She smiled against his fingers. He tugged his hand away and set it on his thigh. “Asher, love is everywhere in the world. In the deepest moments of despair it’s what helps us through.”

He wished he could agree. Wished his life had even a sliver of the love she seemed to carry with her.

“Just look at you,” she continued, “You’re redoing this whole mansion for love. Wedding celebrations on cobblestoned walkways, vows under hand carved canopies. Elegant dinners served on the back porch with tall glasses of lemonade overlooking a well manicured lawn.” She sighed. “You’re in the love business.”

“For other people. I don’t think it comes as easily for me.”

She reached out to the hand against his thigh, wrapping it in her gentle grip, caressing his thick knuckles. “You see these?” She sent her fingers over the scarred back of his hand, opened his fist and toyed with the rough calluses. “This is exactly what love is. Your hands. Rough, worked, busted, and still willing to keep creating. Still making beautiful things for everyone else to see. That’s real love, Asher. It’s not our idea of perfect.” She shrugged. “But, it’s never wrong, never hurtful and always desirable.”

He met her gaze. It was warm with her truth. Her gentle strokes calmed him from within, setting his world right for a moment. He sighed. “These hands have a lot to learn.”

She smiled. “Yes. But, they’ve discovered a lot already. It took me a while to realize those things. Everyone does, eventually. Don’t worry. You’re a good man, Asher. I can
feel
it.”

When she stressed the word feel, he knew exactly what she meant. Down in the very core of all he was, he’d come to know the sentiment well in these few days. He didn’t want to be without it. She brought the goodness out in him, made him sense it too. His strength, his ability, his willingness to do everything at his best sparked when she was near. Feeding him life; making him a better man.

He’d never known a woman to do that before. His love life was a version of “swimming with sharks”. To stay safe, he kept his heart at a distance, but Cyana lassoed him in at first sight.

S
aturday
. Asher grinned with the thought as he stared up to the ceiling from the single bed. He slept in every Saturday to recharge for the extra labor he would need to put in on the first half of the week. Sleeping on the soft mattress in the spare room wasn’t doing his back any damned good. But, the smell of cinnamon and sugar in the air made him stretch to life.

He used the nearest bathroom to splash water in his face, over his hair and rinsed his mouth. Only one person in the mansion could make it smell so good. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror.
Cyana
. He twisted his upper body to the left and right to wrench multiple pops from his spine. His stomach growled, leading him to follow the tempting scent in the air towards the kitchen.

His brown-eyed beauty was at the counter wiping the last of her mess into the underlying sink. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” She spouted without looking up.

“Good morning, Love. What’s got the whole house smelling so good?”

She turned to him while she spoke. “Cinnamon and brown sugar crumb...” Her sentence trailed off.

He was watching the red oven light on the stove. Her stumble drew his focus to her. She lowered her sight to his feet immediately and straightened herself at the counter. “Um.” She wiped at a spot she’d cleaned before.

He peered over his body. He’d tugged himself from bed in a pair of pajama pants and nothing more. A smile played at his lips. She must have liked what she saw. He moved in next to her. She wiped the spot again. He leaned against the counter and lowered his voice.

“I’m sorry, Love. I didn’t catch that.”

She licked her lips before she started to speak. “Crumble. Cinnamon and brown sugar crumble. I hope you like it. I searched the kitchen. It was the only thing you had all the ingredients for.”

He smiled. “I love crumbles. Can you make blueberry next time?”

“Sure. I can make whatever kind you want.” She spoke wiping her brow and not looking his direction.

“Good, I win.”

“What?” She aimed for his gaze.

“You'll have to make it for me. Since this is your last day here, it means I can have my crumble later.”

“Cowboy, I can’t believe you’ve played me into a corner,” she said.

He smiled. “Sure sounds like sister-girl for I win.”

“Hm, you do learn fast.”

“I’ve learned something else.” He stepped in closer. “If I want this, I have to steal it.” He wrapped his arm around her back to give her no way to escape. She tried to say his name in an effort to stop him, but the gesture parted her lips. He dominated her mouth. One taste had left him famished for more. The thought of her had made it difficult to sleep. He’d get his fill now.

The smell of cinnamon added to the taste of her lips. He palmed her strong waist and melded her against him. She was shy and resistant but he’d be damned if she didn’t kiss him back like a woman begging to be set free.

He answered the call, dipping his tongue into her mouth, wrapping both hands down around her hips and over the sweet hump he’d wanted to test from the first day he saw her. The firmness of her ass filling his hands made him moan and knead the thick flesh. A wave of desire crashed over him from spine to cock. Her touch seemed to sense it. Soft feminine palms spread over his shoulders and followed his spine as far as she could reach.

She caressed his neck and down into the cleft of his pecks. Her fingers trailed heat and tingling through the fibers of his skin; deep into the muscles of his shoulders. She curled her fingers into the lengthy patch of fur. The moan she sighed between the slight break in the kiss could do him in. His damned nipples beaded up taunt against the friction of her movement. He wanted more of the sensuous sound. Wanted it louder and louder until it grew into a hunger only he could satisfy. If only she would yield her sweetness over to him.

He delved firmly, sweeping his passion stronger into her trembling body. He would give as much as she could take. He ground his hips into her belly. The oven let out a high-pitched beep. She tensed. He recognized the signal to let her go. He parted from her lips and lingered, brushing their velvet against his. He moaned against the feel of them, wanted them on his chest, his belly, his cock.

“Please,” she whispered.

Oh, yes. I intend to.
He shut his eyes against the wave of wanting the simple phrase shuddered to his core. He desired to please, to shower attention against every inch of her. He needed to experience how loud her pleading could be for deeper satisfaction. The oven beeped again.

“The crumble,” she whispered against his lips.

Damn.
He couldn’t keep his little baker away from the confection she’d put together. It would be a crime to let a professional burn the product she’d prepared to share with him. He relented and peeled away more anxious than he could remember being his entire life.

He heaved in control, but damn well didn't want to. He inhaled a slow stream of body cooling air and relaxed his grip enough to allow her to escape. He adjusted his cock while observing the effects of his kiss on her.

C
yana steadied herself with a palm against the countertop. She took measured breaths to sooth the sensations making every part of her body sensitive and tingling for stimulation. Asher had activated a long dormant part of her in a series of stares and two kisses. He’d driven her into a frenzy of curiosity making her forget all her reserve and dive head long into wanting.