Page 5

5

MACKENNA

T he way Dean owns my climax has my mind reeling with regret for not having him in my life this way sooner. It's overwhelming how well we fit together. My eyes are heavy and ready to sleep, but I can't stop the disappointment from washing over me. I wish we could go all night.

The feeling passes as we curl into each other, where the food, wine, and sex have us practically comatose until the sun rises alongside Dean's blazing alarm clock. I groan, stretch, and yawn before turning over to see he's already sitting on the edge of the bed. The muscles in his back stand out, flexing and contracting as he pushes himself to his feet.

Quietly watching Dean start his day feels intrusive, but he moves with purpose, and I just want to yank the blankets back over my head to return to my dreamless sleep.

"Good morning," I whisper, sleep still coating my voice.

"Good morning, Mackenna." He licks his lips, raises a brow, and drags his gaze down my body. It's only then I notice my nakedness on full display. My nipples perk as my center pulses with waking desire. He moans while adjusting his growing hardness. "I'll never get to work with you lying here like this."

"So don't go," I chuckle. "Or at least, go in a little late."

He shakes his head. "I'm already short-staffed. I'm supposed to have someone filling in at the bar and want to be there when they show up. That means making sure that the bakery is set up to run without me for a few hours, without you stepping in to work for me."

I giggle. "Fine, don't use me or my special talents."

"Oh, I'll get to you soon enough," he says, biting his lower lip before disappearing into the bathroom.

As much as I want to lounge around his place all day, I'm happy to know I have work to do. It reminds me of something else I have in mind for the future of Dean's businesses.

"What do you think about bringing Rye into this?" I ask him once we're sitting in his kitchen, sipping coffee and getting ready to head out for the day.

"Your sister, Mariah?" He taps a finger on the counter. "What do you have in mind?"

"With the wonderful things you can do with ice cream and cakes, I'm thinking of a collaboration that can expand both of your fan bases. You'd save time by not preparing your own ice cream. And it's not as complicated as trying to invent creative cocktails to pair with your desserts."

"I like what I'm hearing so far."

Excitement ripples through me. "Great. I can reach out to her today and figure out a few things. Off the top of my head?—"

"I'd rather you sit on top of mine."

I move closer to him, loving how we can just be together. As soon as I'm within arm's reach, he pulls me in for a kiss. The warmth of his embrace, coupled with the softness of his lips against mine, threatens to keep us in his house even though we both need to get out of here.

When Dean's tongue passes over mine, the vibration of my moans collides with his own sounds of sexual anticipation. We're unstoppable as he lowers his mouth to my neck while his hands work their way under my shirt to cup my breasts. He pinches my nipples, drawing a whimper out of me before I slide my hand into his jeans to grip his growing cock.

Suddenly, nothing we have planned matters as I pull his erection out. My fingers stroke him slowly before I move down to inhale the tip. My mouth works quickly, his palm guiding the back of my head until his climax spills down my throat minutes later.

I pop up with an inkling of satisfaction and a promise to continue what we've started later.

"That's not fair," he says. "You get to taste me, and we don't have the time for me to eat you for breakfast."

"You can have me for dinner," I tell him with a grin.

"I'll hold you to that."

"Back to what I was saying, you can collaborate with the ice cream parlor. I have an idea. Creamy Christmas."

Dean practically chokes on his drink as he laughs. "I'm going to need more information."

"Well, it's not like I'm offering your cock and cream on the menu," I laugh with him.

"I'd hope not. I'm a one-woman kind of guy, and the only woman I want is standing in front of me, trying to tell me about an erotic idea?—"

"Not erotic," I assure him. "Creamy Christmas Cakes, Cones, and Cocktails can be a popup event that brings together some of the businesses around town. We'll offer it to your followers as invite-only because everyone wants to be a part of something no one can get into."

Confusion settles across his thick, dark brown brows.

"It sounds complicated, but over the next few weeks, we'll build up the momentum to the crossover event. I'll make sure that Rye's posts align with yours, and once we tell everyone it's by invitation only or it's first come first serve with a max of two hundred servings, scarcity takes over."

"Ah, that I get. Do I have to do anything with my social media accounts?"

I grin and shake my head. "No. By paying for my services, you relinquish control to me. All posts will be approved by you, and we can even brainstorm a few together if you like."

"That works perfectly for me."

We leave his house, and over the next few weeks, Dean and I work together to bring my marketing campaign to life. We're able to grow his audience and increase business for multiple businesses, my youngest sister's ice cream shop included.

I'm beyond thankful that things finally fell into place. When I stroll into Sweet Treats a week before Christmas, there's a nip in the wintery air and a line out the door. It takes some convincing to let the customers know I have no intention of cutting the line, but eventually, I make my way toward the counter.

Dean's assistant baker, Dana, works alongside two other employees to serve everyone. When she sees me, she flashes me a smile before ushering me behind the counter and into the kitchen, where Dean puts the final touches on cupcake orders.

"What's the muffin of the day?" I ask with a grin.

"Rudolph's Coconut Rum," he replies with a piping bag of scorching red icing in his hand. "We have a gingerbread cookie ice cream sandwich, too. Tell Rye that the coconut rum gelato is a hit."

"Oh, she knows," I reply with a toothy smile spreading across my face. "We're officially sold out of the Creamy Christmas event seats. I actually have a meeting with the mayor to turn this thing into an annual festival for the town. City Hall wants me to run the advertising and marketing while being the liaison between city planning and businesses around town."

Dean drops his piping bag to wrap me in a hug. "Holy shit. That's great, Mackenna. I'm so happy for you."

"I couldn't have gotten this opportunity without you taking a chance on me and without Hank running out of the bar that night. I've been so busy with this campaign that I forgot to ask about your bartender search. How's that going?"

Dean leans down and kisses me. "You can do anything with the right people on your side, but this opportunity is one you created out of that brilliant mind of yours. People just need to see what you're capable of. As far as my bartender search goes, I'm guessing you haven't been back to On the Rocks lately?"

"Um, it's been about two weeks, but no. What happened?"

"Hank is back." He chuckles as he moves back to decorate his cupcakes.

"Really? When did that happen?"

"Last week. Apparently, after taxes, the jackpot basically wiped out their credit card debt and paid off their house, but bills are still coming in. Hank and Joe-Marie aren't the entrepreneur types, so he asked for his job back."

"That's a good thing, I guess. Right?"

Dean shrugs. "For us, it is. I don't have to interview any more people, and Hank gets to make a living doing what he loves without stressing over a mortgage. It feels like a win-win-win situation."

"What's the extra win for?"

He smirks and winks at me. "I won you."

"Won me, huh?"

"Won you over? Convinced you to let me in."

I giggle. "I've let you in, on, and around me in ways no one else can imagine."

"Speaking of our, uh, creative sex life, do you want me to save some of this red icing?" He wriggles his thick brows up and down.

"Only if we're using it at your place. I can still smell caramel from our last confectionary catastrophe in my wooden floors.”

"I can bring the floor buffer, treat your entire place, and see if that helps."

"Well, there aren't any ants or other critters, so it's probably just the scent of our memories playing tricks on me."

"I'll still come by and go over the floors just to be sure. Believe me, you don't want to find out later that something leaked and turned to mold or anything."

"Always the fucking gentleman," I sigh.

"The only gentleman you like to fuck." He holds up a finger full of icing to my mouth, and I suck the red cream off his finger with a moan of delight.

"That tastes like a maraschino cherry," I tell him. "That's delicious."

"It's a slightly altered recipe from my pina colada cupcakes that I offer in summer. I've added some spice to the cake to make it more festive for the winter holidays."

"You're a genius. Will you let me cook or bake something for you? I want to thank you for everything that's happening because you took a chance on me. You're always there to help me, and I just want to do something nice for you."

Dean's silence is loud, but not for long. "I'll let you do anything to me and for me, Mackenna. All I need to know is the time and place."

"How about tonight at my place?"

"Tonight can work. We have some late orders going out, but I should be finished here by seven. Is eight o'clock good for you?"

"Yeah, that's perfect. I'll see you at eight, then."

"Do you need me to bring anything?"

I push myself onto my toes, letting the lingering flavor of the red icing enhance a sultry kiss that draws out a moan from us both. When I begin to pull away, he holds me close a few seconds longer before I step back and swipe a piece of hair behind my ear.

"All you need to bring is yourself, Dean. I have everything sorted out for a meal that's going to knock your socks off."