It was the same street. The same shops and businesses. The same diner, bakery and yoga studio he’d passed hundreds of times before.
That night, the difference wasn’t where he was but who he was with.
Yes, he’d known Amelie as the baker who made the best pastries he’d ever had. Until he’d offered to see her home from the Crawdad Hole, he hadn’t really known the woman behind the Baked with Love apron.
She was smart and sexy, a baker, chef, businesswoman and entrepreneur.
More than that, she welcomed strangers into her bakery like family, eager to smile and talk with them. She lived her logo and baked everything with love. Love for the process. Love for the combination of ingredients and love for the people who would enjoy the finished products.
Just being around her energy, optimism and gregarious personality made Maurice feel more alive than he had in a long time. Like the sun had finally pushed through the clouds.
When they climbed the steps to her apartment, Amelie paused before unlocking the door. “Thank you for helping me get my shop in order so quickly and for dinner tonight.”
He held up the container. “A dinner you didn’t eat.”
She smiled up at him, starlight reflecting off her eyes. “I had a few bites.” She laid a hand on his chest and lowered her voice. “How about we warm up...the leftovers and...finish what we started?”
Her words melted into his soul like honey on a hot biscuit. His mind shot past the food in his hand to the kiss she’d initiated the night before. Maurice’s gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips, and all logic evaporated like rain in the desert.
“Screw the leftovers,” he growled, as he dropped the container, gathered her in his arms and crushed her mouth with his.
Her hands on his chest slid up to lace behind his head, bringing him closer, her breasts pressing against his chest.
When he traced the seam of her lips, she opened and met his tongue with hers in a searing caress. Maurice forgot where he was, forgot the world around him and how to breathe.
When his body reminded him that air was good, he raised his head and dragged in a deep breath.
Amelie leaned her forehead against his chest, her fingers curling into his shirt. “I lied.”
He chuckled and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “About what?”
“I told you I wouldn’t try to kiss you again.”
“And yet, you did.”
She leaned back, her pretty brow furrowing. “Look. I’m attracted to you, and I think you’re attracted to me.”
Maurice couldn’t help himself. He brushed his lips across hers. “I think that was obvious the last time this happened.”
She poked a finger at his chest. “You’re not into commitment, and I’m totally okay with that. So, what’s keeping us from having unfettered, gratuitous sex?”
When Maurice opened his mouth to respond, Amelie pressed her finger to his lips.
“Don’t try to make things complicated. It’s just sex.”
He bit the tip of her finger, fisted his good hand in her hair and leaned down until his lips hovered over hers. “I have a feeling that making love with you will never be just sex, and everything about what I feel when I’m with you is destined to be complicated.”
“Less talk.” She hooked her hand around the back of his neck. “More action.”
Then he was kissing her again, desperate to chase the shadows of the past from the present with her. When he came up again for air, his pulse thundered through his veins, driving heat to his extremities. Instantly hard, he pressed her back to the door and leaned the evidence of his desire into her belly. “And yes, I’m attracted to you.”
“Oh, good.” She laughed breathlessly. “I’ve wanted to do that since last time.” When she raised her face to him, her hand slipped the key into his. “Can we take this inside?”
He palmed the key and leaned in for a quick brush of his lips across hers as he fit the key in the lock like he wanted to fit his cock inside her.
He twisted the key, shoved open the door and swung her inside. Once over the threshold, he kicked the door shut behind them.
What had started as a peaceful walk along Main Street quickly escalated into a frenzy of motion as they stripped off their clothing while crossing the living room floor.
