Page 8 of Sugar Lips

“You’re a really good baker, Elizabeth. I hope you keep doing it.”

“Oh, I’llalwaysbake,” she says, smiling. “I don’t think I’ll ever want to do a show like this again, though. It’s too much stress.”

I nod.

She gives me a curious look.

“I mean…weren’t you stressed, too?” she says.

I hesitate. It’s going to make me look like a tool if I tell her I wasn’t stressed. But I wasn’t. “Not really,” I say. “But that’s just because I’m used to working under pressure at the restaurant.”

“Ah. Right.” She regards me for a second. “Maybe someday I’ll get to eat at that fancy restaurant of yours.”

“Come by anytime,” I say. “Bring your mom, too, if she’s up for it. Your meal will be on the house.”

Elizabeth raises her eyebrows. “Oh, it will, huh? What if I win the competition today? Will itstillbe on the house?”

I can’t help but grin. “That’s a good point. I don’t know. I think we’d better cross that bridge when we come to it.”

We continue to gaze at each other. But neither of us says anything. And then, because I feel an overwhelming desire to kiss her, I move closer to her on the couch. And as I do, her expression turns from amusement into one of anticipation. She reaches up and cups my face and pulls me toward her, even though I’m already moving in for the kiss. When our lips meet, the fire I felt yesterday when we hugged reignites.

And this time it’s out of control.

Chapter Five

Elizabeth

I’m both shocked and not shocked when Jackson kisses me. I mean, it’s obvious that there’s been sexual tension crackling between us this whole time. For him to actually do something about it, though—in the green room, no less—that’swhat catches me by surprise.

I know I’ve been so resistant to giving in to my desire for him. But there’s no reason to resist anymore, is there? There’s no more baking to do. There’s nothing left to concentrate on. That is, there’s nothing left to concentrate on except for him.

As it turns out, in addition to being amazing in the kitchen, Jackson is also anamazingkisser. His lips are masterful on mine. And then his tongue is inside my mouth, and mine is inside of his. He tastes like sugar.

I guess I probably taste like it, too.

Jackson wraps a hand around my back and pulls me closer to him. When our bodies touch, sparks fly to all of my nerve endings. Suddenly, I want a whole lot more than just to kiss him. I know it’s nuts, and I know that we could be interrupted at any moment, but I want him so bad.

Jackson pulls his lips from mine and dips his head to kiss my neck. Oh, God. It’s like he knows that spot drives me crazy with lust.

“Do you have a condom?” I whisper.

“Uh huh,” he murmurs against my skin.

“I’m going to lock the door.”

I pull away from him and stumble over toward the door to lock it. When I turn around, Jackson’s looking at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. I can’t believe this is about to happen. Are we really going to do this?

Yeah. We’re really going to do this.

I walk back over to the couch where Jackson is sitting. He grabs ahold of my hips and pulls me toward him, then kisses my still-clothed thighs. I undo the button on my jeans and wriggle out of them, then slide down my panties. Jackson unzips himself and pulls down his jeans and boxers, letting them crumple around his ankles. I watch, lightheaded with longing, as he rolls a condom onto his thick, rock-hard cock.

Then, straddling him, I lower myself down onto his lap. I’m already so wet, and as he slides into me, we both let out moans. As I pull up and then sink down again, Jackson pulls my face to his and starts kissing me again. With our tongues dancing together, we move our hips in sync, fucking slow and deep…then fast and hard. I have no concept of time anymore, and barely any sense of where we even are. All I know is his body and the sensation of him being inside of me.

Pleasure coils up inside of me, growing tighter and tighter until there’s no coming back from it. I press my mouth harder to his and cry out as quietly as I can as an orgasm bursts through my body. Jackson comes immediately afterward, digging his fingers into my thighs. And then we collapse onto the couch, laughing and kissing, our limbs one big entangled mess.

“That was incredible,” he murmurs, planting a kiss on my collarbone.

“I know,” I say. “And here I was, annoyed with you this whole time.”