The Secret (Winslow Brothers 3)

“Holy shit, Rachel.” I chuckle, but I also grin like Little Bo Peep would if she found her fucking sheep.

Rachel’s clearly talented, and I’m beyond impressed. I’m also wondering what she could do with real makeup and time. Damn, what could she do with Halloween makeup for Jude’s and my yearly group costume?

“So…do you like it?” she asks, her voice high-pitched and fighting giggles at the same time.

“Rachel, Rachel, Rachel…” I shake my head and offer a quiet laugh. “I can’t believe…”

She bites her bottom lip, visibly bracing herself, waiting for me to dive into some kind of rant or something, and a thrill runs down my spine at the opportunity to surprise her.

“…how talented you are.”

She freezes, her face cutting back to serious like a tear in a roll of film. “What?”

“You’re really good at makeup.” I grab the mirror from her hand, admiring myself side to side and up and down. “I mean, look at me. I’m a total babe. And it’s sick as hell that you managed this in five minutes. With fucking baking products. What else can you do? I’m dying to know.”

She shakes her head at me, a mystified smile crinkling the sides of her eyes. “You’re not mad?”

“About what? I look awesome.”

She barks a startled giggle. “I-I… Well, I used to do makeup tutorials online. That was one of my main platforms when I was influencing.”

I nod, admiring myself in the mirror some more. “I can see why.”

“I was going to record this to post it as a joke…for the bakery’s Instagram…” She points behind herself to her phone and the ring light I hadn’t even noticed, and then she looks back to me. “But I wasn’t expecting such good conversation while I was doing it.” She purses her lips. “I think I’ll keep it to myself.”

I’m starting to think I might keep her forever.

Rachel

“Now, I’m ready for my dessert,” Ty says with a mischievous grin.

Before I even know what’s happening, Ty is off the stool and lowering me, back first, onto the metal prep table behind me, his hands at my ass.

My gasp is short-lived as he brings his lips to mine, licking a path to open them and then kissing me like anything but the character I’ve painted his face to look like.

I kiss at his lips at first, but then I make my way around his face, licking at the colored sugar paint I took out of the refrigerator supplies to erase my work. There’s something nearly frenzying about the mix of sugar and Ty, and I work my tongue along the line of his jaw like a woman starved.

Ty groans when I flick my tongue at his ear and makes short work of pulling my leggings off. It occurs to me briefly that I’m going to have to sanitize this table really well when we’re done, but it’ll be worth it. Of that, I’m certain.

My rose-gold lace panties are next, and I catch only a glimpse of him tucking them into his pocket. “What happened to your concern for my underwear supply?” I tease.

“That only applies when they don’t look like these,” he answers too easily, making me laugh and then swallowing the sound in a kiss.

I’ve cleaned off most of his face, but a little icing is still lingering around the edges. I imagine I’m going to be finding it in places tonight that I never dreamed it would be.

“Oh, my sweet Rachel, I can’t wait to taste you.” Ty waggles his brows as he spreads my thighs and sinks to his knees on the hard, tile bakery floor.

A shiver runs through my entire body. Mostly due to the fact that we have to keep it pretty cold in here, just to keep the sugars pliable before they set. Evidently, the cold air is good for icing, but it’s a little bit of a shock on girlie bits.

“Cold?” Ty asks, in tune with my body enough to notice even without my saying it.

“Uh… Yeah.” I giggle through chattering teeth. “But I’m okay.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to make you warm soon,” he promises, closing his oh-so warm mouth over the sensitive flesh between my legs. The sensation of his tongue and the illicitness of what we’re doing is unbelievably hot. So hot, I’m not thinking at all about the temperature of the room anymore.

The ceiling lights shine down on Ty’s brown hair, and I reach out to grab a handful as he slowly runs his tongue against me. It’s a tease and a pleasure, and I can’t decide if I want him to get on with it right now or do this forever.

Luckily, he chooses for me, and I lose the ability to think altogether. His tongue is like magic, thrusting inside softly but firmly and then circling my clit with just the right amount of pressure. He’s an expert with his mouth, that’s for sure, and if I could magnanimously thank all the women who came before me who got him here, I’d do it.