Tell Me You Crave Me Page 8

  “Aww, are you flirtin’ with me? Bridget ain’t gonna like that.”

  Matt laughed. “But seriously, man, one day the game is going to get old. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Yeah, well, when the day comes that I start talking about joint bachelor-bachelorette parties, I want you to shoot me.”

  “Hey, don’t be bitchy, it’ll be fun. But you have to help.”

  Of course he did.

  “Natalie is making cupcakes for the event.”

  “So?” East asked.

  “So, Chloe is making the food, and Natalie is busy trying to make a hundred cupcakes for the party this weekend. Go help her.”

  “Have you seen her work? The woman is a perfectionist, and I can’t bake for shit,” East said honestly. He’d always admired Natalie’s talent. She truly was good at whatever she touched, even if she didn’t think so. But there was a reason she made the kind of money she did off baked goods, because they were not only that delicious, they were perfection. Artwork.

  Like her thighs smeared with frosting. Or the ripe curves of her breasts in that hot little dress.

  There was no way he could go anywhere near Natalie’s cupcake shop again, not after what had happened there last time. He already couldn’t get the damn woman out of his head. Seeing her in her element, where they’d fucked with passionate abandon…nope. Until he knew he could keep his damn hands to himself, staying as far away from the woman as possible was best. Even if she was dating every loser in a twenty-mile radius, it seemed. The gossip mill was running, and it looked like Miss Natalie was on a dating mission from hell.

  Not that he cared.

  Matt snapped his fingers at him. “Hey! Are you listening? Can you just go see if she needs help? You can stir or something.” He looked at East more seriously. “Just between you and me, she hasn’t been herself the past couple of days. She’s obviously stressed, and all these dates she’s going on aren’t helping.”

  “What the hell is up with that, anyway?” East tried to sound casual, even though he already knew the answer.

  “Mom,” Matt said as he rolled his eyes. “She’s really pushing Natalie to settle down, and with the wedding coming up she’s been even crazier than usual. But I think there’s more to it. Natalie has been on some kind of mission lately to get…something.”

  “You’ve been in Connecticut. How would you know?”

  “We talk on the phone. I can tell when my baby sister is struggling. Besides, I keep tabs on the people I love.” Matt looked at East for an extra second, and it was that moment that really punched him in the chest. Matt loved him like family. Was his best friend. His brother. And here he was, lying to his best friend’s face.

  East opened his mouth to say something—the truth, maybe? But instead, he said, “Since when has Natalie ever done what people tell her to do? And is having a date really that big of a deal?”

  “To my mom? Yeah. And Natalie has always struggled in this area, you know that. It’s not just about a date or dating—my mother’s always cast a long shadow. I think that Nat is just trying in her own way, and I want to be there for her. You should, too. Just give her some support.”

  “Support her doing what? Dating idiots?”

  “I meant support her attempt at growth. And how do you know they’re idiots?”

  “Have any of them stuck around?” East said.

  “Good point. Look, I’m not thrilled about my baby sister dating random guys off the internet, but that’s all the more reason why you should be around. You know, keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn’t get hurt. If anyone’s going to recognize a jerk who’s only in it for sex it’ll be—” Matt stopped abruptly and looked at East.

  “Me?” East finished for him.

  His friend slapped his shoulder affectionately, but Matt couldn’t hide the truth on his face. “You know what I mean.”

  Yeah, he did. And East couldn’t blame his buddy. Which was why he could never tell him that he’d slept with his sister, or that he couldn’t go help Natalie because all he wanted to do whenever he saw her was rip her clothes off.

  “Look, I’d really like your help here,” Matt said, delivering a giant middle finger to East’s plan of staying away. “Just take care of her, and make sure she’s okay.”

  With that, East groaned and headed to Natalie’s cupcake shop, determined not to fall into her pants again.

  After a quick drive and a mental pep talk, East was staring down Natalie’s bakery door. The sign out front said Closed, and the blinds were drawn shut. But the smell of vanilla and frosting wafted from inside.

  He knocked.

  He heard something fall over and a soft curse. Finally, the door opened, and there stood Natalie in her apron and glasses and messy ponytail. She had a smudge of flour on her cheek.

  Damn, she looked hot.

  “I closed early today so I can get all these cupcakes made by Saturday.”

  East grinned. “Yep, that’s why I’m here, darlin’. To help.”

  She raised an eyebrow and shoved her glasses up her nose, leaving a smudge of flour behind. God, she was adorable. And that dirty apron couldn’t conceal her fantastic curves.

  “I’ve got it covered.” Natalie sounded annoyed. East glanced around. It looked like she had almost all of them baked, but not frosted or decorated. Judging by the smell, there was still a chocolate batch in the oven. “Besides, you don’t have to do my brother’s bidding.”

  “What makes you think Matt has anything to do with this?”

  She went back to stirring a big vat of frosting. “Because I know him. Between him and my mother, they think I can’t walk and chew gum. I told him I’ve got this covered, but of course he didn’t listen to his little baby sister.”

  “Maybe I want to help?” he said.

  “I don’t need your kind of help,” she said.

  “Oh, I think you do,” he came closer. “But I won’t make you admit it.”

  “How kind of you.” She didn’t look up from her frosting, but her shoulders relaxed just a bit. Or maybe he was just imagining it.

  “Why don’t you just tell me how you fix these and I can do some?” East offered. “Like put on the frosting before you do all the fancy, uh, decorating stuff?” Sure, these weren’t technical terms, but maybe he wasn’t a total waste of space.

  “I’m not going all out with these. They’re just going to be your basic cupcakes, but it still takes finesse.” She spared him a glance over her shoulder then gathered a bit of frosting on the spreader and picked up the cupcake.

  “Finesse,” he repeated as he watched her delicate hands work the frosting on the mini cake. “I have some skills in the finesse department.”

  Natalie snorted.

  “What? You disagree?”

  “I think you have skill.” She gave him a saucy smile and credit and that made him want to grin. “But finesse? Sorry, I didn’t feel any of that when I was up against the wall of the bar the other night.”

  “That’s because you were busy feeling two orgasms,” he countered. “And anyway, those weren’t my best moves. Just efficient and—judging by your moans—enjoyable. I didn’t have the time or privacy to show you what I can really do.”

  She put the cake down and spun to face him. “Oh yeah? I think I have a pretty good idea of what you do, East. And like I said, I’m not a notch. And this,” she motioned between them, “isn’t a good idea. I don’t have the energy or time to fight with you right now.”

  “Who said anything about fighting?”

  She rolled her eyes. “When don’t we fight?”

  “Is that what we’ve been doing? I thought it was foreplay.”

  He smiled and she glared. “There you go, making jokes. Casual, confident East. Nothing but swagger. You couldn’t take a funeral seriously.”

  If only she knew how much she threatened all that swagger she was calling him out on. Her. Just her. He’d never felt so on edge for a woman before. Never wanted one so badly. Until
Natalie.

  “If you’re looking to hurt my feelings, darlin’, you’re getting there. Why don’t you tell me what is actually on your mind instead of giving me hell?”

  Her face stilled, then softened. Oh my God! He’d said something right. At least, he thought so. But that cute, stubborn chin of hers raised a tad.

  “Well, you want the truth?” There was the slightest tremble in her voice. Slight. Almost unnoticeable, but like she was gearing up to say something she was a bit insecure about. “You irritate me and you date people like Cinnamon and that’s fine. But I’m telling you, I can’t…”

  He waited, hanging on the silence and hoping she’d tell him…well, anything to give him a clue as to how to make that unsure, sad look on her face go away.

  She shook her head. “I just can’t deal with this right now on top of everything else.”

  “I’m not asking you to deal with anything,” he offered.

  He grabbed her hips gently and lifted her to sit on the counter. She let him.

  “East, don’t. I can’t do this, and I can’t afford to wreck cupcakes trying to get you to shut up again.”

  He smiled and leaned in. “I’m not looking to wreck anything. But I’ve come to find that this position”—he stepped between her legs and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear—“makes you have to look me in the eye.” He took a gentle taste of her lips. “It takes some of your sass away, and I get some of the…” He kissed her softly again. “Mmm, sweet Natalie.”

  And for the first time, Natalie didn’t look like she wanted to kill him for calling her sweet. Because she was. But that wasn’t a bad thing. Not to him. And judging by her expression and the way her body slowly eased toward him, as if silently begging him to stay near, she believed him.

  “Sweet?” she whispered.

  He nodded. “You’re a lot of things, and I hate to break it to you, baby, but sweet is one of them. And there’s not a damn thing wrong with it. Because I’ve learned there is way more than just sweetness hiding in you. And I have the marks on my back and arms to prove it.”

  She smiled at him and he felt…warm. Like for the first time, he’d made a woman feel something good, and it had nothing to do with sex.

  Not that he wasn’t also thinking about sex, because damn, he couldn’t not think about it when he was around her. He was already standing close to Natalie but he still felt too far away. He had to be closer, inside her. And when she opened up for him, and he got to experience every angle of her, he was in bliss for the rest of the day.

  And he wanted a piece of bliss right now.

  “You know, being as sweet as you are, it makes a man wonder where else you taste so sweet.”

  His hands trailed up her thighs, scrunching up her loose skirt as he went.

  “Easton,” she whispered. Fuck, he liked the sound of his name from her soft red lips. He liked the way she looked, the way she smelled, the way she felt, and he had to have more. Now.

  To hell with the rest. He just needed the kind of sugar only she could offer. And he was going to take it.

  Natalie was in between a cake and a hard place. Literally. And she couldn’t bring herself to complain. Yeah, she had been thinking of East way too much, especially after their little outdoor experience the other night.

  But East was so good at what he did. Dating. Enjoying life effortlessly. It just came naturally to him, and she found that oddly appealing. But she just wasn’t as good at that as he was. And she’d almost just told him so. Almost told him about this weird warmth in her chest that only seemed to come around whenever he did. Almost told him that seeing him with another woman made that warmth turn to a blazing heat. She just didn’t know how to deal with this…this…

  Unknown?

  Yeah, unknown seemed right, since she didn’t seem to know a damn thing when it came to East—how to avoid him, how to want, how to handle him. She thought about him, thought about what this all meant, how to stop, how to continue. It was annoying. Like him.

  But now, with his softer tone and his hands getting dangerously close to where she needed him the most, she couldn’t bring herself to think of anything but those hands, his mouth…just his body on hers. Because he gave her passion, made her feel heat, and that was enough. It was all it’d ever be, and that was fine. She could even use it to her advantage until she found a date she didn’t want to punch in the face. A relationship with East was definitely never going to happen—not that she wanted it to—but she could stock up on that passion he offered and try to figure out how to deal with these kinds of emotions so she could better understand them with the next man.

  “What are you doing?” she asked with more rasp in her voice than she’d intended.

  “Oh, baby, if you don’t know, then you need my help more than I thought.”

  She needed to maintain her grip on reality somehow. Needed to stay strong, because deep in the back of her mind she knew he was breaking her down, slowly, like a melting sugar cube.

  Sweet…

  Just as his fingers skimmed her panties, she grabbed a fist full of his hair and tugged. He faced her with a hiss.

  “Like I said,” she murmured, “I don’t need your help.”

  “But you want it,” he said.

  Yeah, she did. She wanted a lot of things. Things East seemed to be able to give her. Sex. Passion. Maybe it wasn’t a date or a relationship, but she wanted what he was offering. And she was finding it harder and harder to deny that desire.

  “I do want it. But there’s nothing between us, East.”

  “There’s a lot between us.” He thrust his hip against her inner thigh, and she felt his erection press against her.

  “Nothing real,” she clarified.

  She thought for sure he’d come back with a joke about how real he was and thrust again, but he didn’t. He didn’t joke. Didn’t play coy. He looked her in the eyes and said the one thing she wasn’t expecting:

  “You’re right.” Something in that admission hit her hard. Truth. They both recognized it and yet…he was still between her thighs. “There’s nothing real here. I’m casual and emotionless most of the time, right?”

  She opened her mouth to refute that, because he had a lot of emotion. He just kept it hidden. But hadn’t she fired a similar comment at him the other night? Told him that if he had feelings she sure as hell couldn’t see them?

  “East, you’re not emotionless—”

  “So then there’s no reason why I can’t have my cake…” He slowly sank to his knees, cutting off her statement. He kissed the inside of her knee, then tossed her legs over his shoulders. “And eat it, too.”

  When his mouth ran along her panties, she moaned.

  “I still kind of hate you.” She mostly hated how he made her feel. And loved it. But hated that she loved it.

  He nodded. His hair brushed between her thighs and set her skin prickling with heat. “You also kind of like me.”

  Maybe she did. He was so confident. And lord knew he brought out the best passion and worst irritation in her.

  “Maybe a little…” she said.

  “Oh, sweet Natalie,” he said, and moved her panties down her legs and off. “Can’t we just get along?” And then his tongue snaked out and hit her clit in one strong lash.

  “Oh! God yes!” she said and tunneled her hands into his hair.

  He ran his mouth the entire length of her core, then back down again, slowly sampling every inch of her. He sucked gently on her soft folds. Then his strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her closer, and he impaled her on his stiffened, waiting tongue.

  “Oh yes!” she cried again, the only word she could think to say. There she was, in her shop with the sexiest, most infuriating man between her thighs, and all she could do was turn into a puddle for him and beg for more.

  It was this kind of feeling she didn’t know what to do with. The kind that was addicting. The kind that could get her heart into trouble.

  “How’s my finesse
now, baby?” he growled, and then flicked the sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue.

  “Good…so good…”

  She was so close. The sides of his face pressed against her thighs, and the soft scratch of his stubble tickled as his jaw moved with every swipe of his tongue. Her skin was alive, and every move he made delivered a fresh jolt of intensity.

  He was devouring her.

  The man was beyond finesse. He was a master. She felt made of smooth caramel that he warmed up, only to retreat before melting her again and again.

  He shoved his tongue deep, then pulled away to suck at her clit and everything in between. The way he kissed along her folds and then ran the tip of his nose along the cleft of her sex sent her into a spiral of crazed need.

  She didn’t just feel seen, sexy, or beautiful…she felt worshiped.

  A man like East, on his knees before her…

  The idea was enough to snap a flare of deep, hard lust from her stomach to her breasts. This wasn’t the quick, wild passion of their other encounters. It was slow, raw passion—consuming and just steady and deep enough to really, really feel it—everything he’d ever made her feel but on another level.

  She loved fast and hard and everything else about how Easton fucked her. But this was something else entirely. And she liked it, too.

  She shivered as a ping of heat crept from her toes to her ears.

  “Mmm, you’re close, baby.” He licked her, with long and purposeful strokes. “And you’re so fuckin’ sweet. Drenching my tongue.” He licked again. “Best damn dessert I’ve ever had.”

  He sure knew how to talk, and how to back up that talk with some serious action. She slid her fingers through his hair, gripping the strands harder when he gently nipped at her clit. She wanted to come so bad. For him. Because of him. She wanted to stay in this moment of feeling wanted. Feeling everything except awkward. Because when East was near her, inside of her, she didn’t feel awkward. She felt like a woman.

  “You ready to give it up to me?” he said between skilled licks and kisses.

  “Yes.” And she was. So, so, ready.