Sweet Inspiration (6 page)

"So hot and soft and sweet, Lucy Anne. Open for me. Yes, that's it."

Lucy blushed as her legs fell open wider to allow Nicholas to caress her.
Hell, this is better than I imagined. And God
knows I imagined it enough.
Suddenly desperate to taste her, Nicholas slipped from the sofa to the floor in front of her.

He opened her legs gently with his hands and rubbed his beard along the smooth skin on her inner thighs. Slowly he kissed a path to her sweet spot and found her ripe and swollen. As he lightly brushed his lips over her sensitive flesh, he felt Lucy tense up.

"Umm, Nicholas, I'm not sure about this..."

"Please don't deny me, Lucy Anne. I've been fantasizing about tasting you since the first moment I saw you."

Lucy looked a bit bewildered. "Are...are you sure? I thought, you know, that guys didn't really like to do that..."

Nicholas raised an eyebrow at the comment. "I'm not sure what men you have been with in the past, Lucy, but they must have been idiots. There is nothing more delicious in this world than the taste of a beautiful woman, and that is exactly what you are." He ran his tongue along her cleft and Lucy shuddered. "Sweet as honey. Just lie back and relax."

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Sweet Inspiration

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With the single-mindedness of a man possessed he devoured her with his mouth, his lips, his tongue. Her apprehension soon dissipated, and was replaced with enthusiastic moans and whimpers. She was as rich and decadent as a Parisian pastry, her skin soft and sensitive and creamy. Nicholas glanced up at her face and found her drowsy eyes watching him, completely enthralled, wild curls falling across her forehead.
Dear God, this woman is
delicious.
He reached up to cup her breasts, and squeezed the swollen nipples at the same time he began to suck on the sensitive nub hidden in her folds.

Lucy came undone. Her back arched with the intensity of her orgasm, an eruption that seemed to surprise her. Blindly she reached for Nicholas' head between her legs, spearing her fingers in his thick hair. Her hips rocked against his mouth, over and over again, until she was completely spent. Only then did Nicholas release her, placing gentle kisses on her inner thighs and brushing his fingers lightly over her breasts.

He could barely hide a smug grin of male satisfaction, knowing full well that no other man had satiated Lucy in such a way.

"I had no idea..." Lucy whispered as Nicholas crawled back onto the lumpy sofa and pulled her into his arms. She was clearly struggling to keep her eyes open, but her boneless body had other ideas.

"Don't fight it, sweetheart. Go to sleep. You have a big day tomorrow." As much as Nicholas craved to fill her and find his own satisfaction, he realized that Lucy was exhausted.

"But I haven't touched you yet. I want to touch you, too..."

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"It's all right Lucy Anne. Just rest. Visions of sugar plums and all that..."

Even as the luscious little chef fell asleep in his arms, leaving him still erect, fully dressed, and more than a little uncomfortable, he was content. For some reason that eluded him, a night spent working in a chaotic kitchen with a somewhat unorthodox chef, and giving, but not receiving sexual favors, had turned into the best night of his life. He tugged the fleece blanket over both of their bodies as Lucy fell asleep snuggled within the cradle of his arms. One thing was for certain. No matter what the complications, he was determined to see Lucy again.

And there would be complications, no doubt about it.

Lucy awoke next to a large, hot, very male body. Never in her life had she imagined a night as decadent as the previous evening. Nicholas Klaus had seduced her with a saffron-roasted chicken, glasses of champagne, and his magic hands and lips. No one had ever showered her with such thoughtfulness. The meal was astounding; his talent in the kitchen left her speechless.

He was also a generous and selfless lover. She was amazed that he seemed fascinated with her body, even her tiny breasts. And it felt so sexy to sleep naked in his arms when he was fully dressed. She thought he looked adorable with his clothes rumpled, his hair standing up, and his feet dangling over the edge of her little sofa.

Nicholas was so wonderful to her last night...and she had fallen asleep before reciprocating. How embarrassing! Lucy was determined to make it up to him today. Before the 55

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bakery opened for the morning shift, she wanted to peel off his wrinkled clothes and pleasure him. She had never really enjoyed giving oral sex before, but the thought of taking Nicholas into her mouth and tasting him had her shivering with excitement. His scent lingered all over her, masculine and earthy, and she reveled in how possessive that made her feel. She secretly hoped Nicholas would extend his trip to Eston, and that they would be able to spend more time together.

Lucy had never felt this way about a man. Sometime during the night she had totally fallen for Nicholas Sebastian Klaus. He fascinated her. His combination of passion, creativity, discipline and self-control was utterly intriguing.

She had fallen hard, she had fallen fast, and she prayed that he felt the same. Otherwise, she feared that she would be nursing a bruised ego and a broken heart for Christmas.

Gently she extricated herself from Nicholas' arms.

Although she was reluctant to leave him, the delivery trucks would be here soon with supplies. She tucked the blankets around him and kissed him softly on the forehead, then quietly dressed. A sick feeling in her tummy reminded her that he was supposed to leave today to go home. Funny, she couldn't remember where he said he lived. Somewhere up north.

Lucy tiptoed into the kitchen to start the cappuccino machine. Last night Nicholas had confided to her that he started every morning with a perfect shot of espresso. She wanted to surprise him with a steaming cup of rich coffee, and one of her flaky croissants.

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She sighed as she gazed out the window. The sun was just beginning to rise over the brownstones across the street, streaking the sky with apricot and pale blue the color of cotton candy. On every tree branch, light post and banister was a thick layer of ice, sparkling in the early morning sun, a testament to the snowfall the night before. Lucy smiled to herself, thinking that while the snow and ice froze the town last night, Nicholas had been heating her up to a feverish pitch, giving her a release that was completely new and exciting. She never considered herself a passionate person, but something about him brought out a very lusty side to her, and she liked it.

Lucy began to pull out large party platters for the sugar cookies. The cappuccino machine sputtered and hissed, and soon the fragrance of hot coffee, cinnamon and cloves filled the kitchen. She glanced out the window and spied Mr.

McCracken's produce truck fishtailing around the corner. The roads looked slick and icy, and she hoped the old man would be careful on the steep driveway to her loading dock. She grabbed a thick cardigan from a hook on the wall, and stepped out the back door. Gingerly she made her way down the slippery steps and began clearing some crates from the parking spot in front of the dock. Just as she finished stacking the last of the crates, Mr. McCracken pulled into the drive.

Lucy looked up and waved hello but realized too late that old Joe McCracken had a look of pure terror on his face. The truck slid down the driveway much too fast for her to jump out of the way. She closed her eyes as the truck slammed 57

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into her, shattering all thoughts of hot chocolate, soft kisses, and hazel eyes.

Several thoughts occurred to Nicholas as he awoke on the lumpy sofa in Lucy Anne Brewster's office. One was that although the sofa was approximately twelve inches too short for his frame, was thread-bare and mushy, he had experienced the most restful and contented sleep of his life.

Having a well-pleasured Lucy curled up in his arms for the night had been nothing short of bliss. It also occurred to him that he had completely forgotten to interrogate Lucy about her sugar cookie recipe. They spent hours in her kitchen, but he had been much too distracted to remember his main reason for visiting her last evening.

His seduction strategy had not gone exactly according to plan, either. Although Lucy fell asleep before he could finish making love to her, the look of surprise and wonder on her face as she came apart in his arms was extremely satisfying.

He had the distinct feeling that the petite chef was somewhat inexperienced with men. She obviously spent the majority of her time at the cafe, taking care of her orders as well as needy customers, and ignoring her own needs.

Nicholas never thought he would be attracted to someone like Lucy, but his obsession with her was growing. She was fascinating in every way; her combination of innocence and passion, her joyful love of cooking, her generous nature with others.

He sat up and stretched his back, his spine crackling and popping like roasting chestnuts. His clothes were sadly rumpled, and his hair jutted up in all directions. Nicholas was 58

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somewhat embarrassed for Lucy to see him in such disarray, but the delicious scent of French roast was too enticing to ignore. And truthfully, he was impatient to see and touch and taste the little baker. The thought of leaving her today was unsettling. Somehow he would figure out a way to see her again.

Nicholas smiled as he entered the kitchen. Lucy had placed two holiday espresso cups next to the coffee machine. They were cherry red with hand-painted Christmas trees. His mother would be absolutely charmed by Lucy's sweet and giving nature—and her choice of china. His family's collection of Christmas dishware was rather extensive, to say the least.

Lucy would be impressed for sure.

The sound of a vehicle barreling down the street caught his attention. A white truck turned into the driveway just past Sweet Inspiration
.
He realized that Lucy must be meeting her first delivery of the morning.

Nicholas picked up the red mug and was reaching for the coffee carafe when a horrible feeling of foreboding hit him.

His head snapped up as the sound of smashing glass exploded into the silence of the morning and sent him running to the back door. Heart pounding, he yanked open the door and refused to process what his eyes were seeing.

No, no, not now, I've just found you, sweetheart...

Lucy looked like a crumpled rag doll, flung against the pavement. Bright red blood pooled around her body and saturated her white apron and coated her curls. Nicholas flew down the steps and knelt next to her body as the truck driver stumbled out of his vehicle.

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"I couldn't stop. It was too slippery." The old man looked dazed as he stared at Lucy's broken body. "She gonna be okay?"

Nicholas touched Lucy's hair, stroking softly. Reaching for the cell phone in his pocket, he pressed a single button, never once taking his eyes off of Lucy.

"Markus, I need you." His voice sounded hoarse and shaky. "Meet me immediately behind Sweet Inspiration. And call Hector...tell him...tell him we're bringing in an emergency."

Later that morning, when Chief of Police Nathan Mayer questioned Joseph McCracken about the accident, they assumed he had been drinking. There was a crushed truck, a pool of blood, but no body. Joe was teary-eyed and confused and blabbering like a fool. The chief of police wasn't sure what to write in the report. They didn't have a hell of a lot of crime in Eston, New York. Especially in the wintertime. The most excitement usually came from kids whipping snowballs at the school buses. But old Joe just kept repeating the same damned story, and it sure was a doozy.

"A sleigh. In the sky, he carried her off. And there was an elf. It just disappeared. I'm telling you, he carried her off."

Funny thing, Joe McCracken didn't smell like he'd been drinking.

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Sweet Inspiration

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Cold and pain. That was all Lucy knew. She heard sounds, too. A high-pitched whistle, eerie and unsettling, like the wind in the trees. And voices—one was deep and rich...and very close to her. Nicholas. She smelled his comforting scent, felt the scratch of his beard on her face. It was possible that she was draped over his body, fighting for his heat and vitality.

But she couldn't be sure. There was another voice, tinny and high, almost childlike. But she could tell from the tone that it was an adult, and he was worried.

Lucy struggled to open her eyes. Yes, her face was touching Nicholas' cheek. In front of her sat a tiny old man, wrinkled with time, and he was driving. They must be in a car, but she couldn't see the road. Only blackness. The pain radiated from her head, down to her back and legs.

Thankfully, it seemed to be waning. She was desperate to talk to Nicholas, but unable to form the words. An overwhelming fatigue claimed her. Lucy was too weak to resist it.

"Dear God, Lucy, don't you dare die on me. Hold on, love, we're almost there." Vaguely, Lucy felt Nicholas grip her more tightly, and suddenly the cold was interrupted by something hot and wet. His tears?

Her eyelids fluttered as sleep beckoned enticingly. Around her the black void gave way to a glowing mist, and Lucy had the sensation she was falling. The mist dissipated and an enormous castle made of glass appeared below her in the 61

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distance. It sparkled with flecks of color and movement within. More beautiful than any fairy tale castle, it glistened with lights, with musical sounds and laughter, and vibrated with some sort of energy that seemed magical to her.
I must
be hallucinating. Maybe this is what heaven looks like.