Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice - Anne
Title: Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice
Author: Anne
Disclaimer: So not mine. All hail Rob Thomas.
Rating: R for sex and some language.
Pairing: Logan/Veronica
Word Count: 2,722
Summary: Set sometime in a future S3 where Veronica and Logan are happily together with zero issues. Like that will ever happen. Fluff + no plot + one recipe for snickerdoodles = Cheestastic total PWP.
Logan knocked on the door and waited patiently as he heard a bark and the clatter of metal, followed by a muffled curse. The door swung open to reveal a flushed Veronica, her face and shirt dotted with small particles of white powder.
He raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the doorframe.
Veronica gave a sigh as she motioned him inside the apartment. “It’s flour, I’m baking, Back-up made a play for some dough, don’t ask.” She turned to glare over her shoulder at the repentant pit bull now slinking down the hallway.
He followed her as she closed the door and patted herself down, trying to brush the flour off.
“Need some help with that?” he asked with a smirk, brushing away flour that had settled on her shoulder before letting his hand slip lower and trace the curve of her breast.
She let out a small gasp and shot him a look. “A little handsy today, aren’t we?”
He blew her a kiss. “Just being my usual helpful self.”
Veronica gave a little snort but inclined her head towards the kitchen, so he followed on her heels.
“No hello my uber-sexy boyfriend kiss?” he asked.
That earned him a second snort. She turned around. “Uber-sexy?”
“Don’t fight the attraction, Veronica.” He pulled her against him and she melted into his arms, her lips welcoming his kiss. She’d been busy all week with shifts at the Hut, cases at Mars Investigations, and her fall class load at Hearst, and he’d barely seen her. And that was a tragedy he intended to remedy tonight.
He broke away and asked between kisses. “So Daddy Mars is really gone for the weekend?”
She smiled against his lips. “Yes he is.”
“And you have the whole place to yourself?”
“I do. Except for the cameras.”
Logan pulled back. “Cameras?”
“You’re too easy,” Veronica laughed. “No cameras.”
He glanced around suspiciously. “You’re sure?”
“Mhmm. And I was getting so very lonely, here all alone,” she pouted. “I think I need someone to keep me company.”
Logan lifted her onto the only clear space on the countertop and she locked her arms and legs around him, pulling him in closer.
“Well, I’m open to persuasion,” he replied.
“Persuasion?” she flirted back. “Why, Mr. Echolls, whatever do you mean?”
“Just that I could be convinced to make you a little less lonely.”
“Could you now?” she drawled.
“Yep.” He dropped kisses down her neck as she murmured her approval. The silky fine strands of her hair slid through his fingers and he stopped, inhaling her scent that always left him a little weak-kneed. “I missed you,” he whispered.
“I missed you too,” she whispered back, tracing his ear with her tongue. He lost himself in her candy pink lips, delicate and delectable. He sometimes wondered if he was dreaming when she kissed him like this, the sass and spunk of before spiced with something new, sweeter and softer. And so very sexy.
“So . . . what kind of persuasion do you need?” she panted several minutes later, as they finally surfaced for air.
“Well . . .” Logan began, when he noticed the rapidly blossoming mark on her neck, right at that spot under her ear that always made her squirm against him just right. He couldn’t stop his smirk until he realized his mistake as she caught his stare.
“Hey,” she leaned back and felt at her neck, eyes narrowed. “Logan, did you just give me a hickey!?”
He tried to look innocent. “Maybe.”
She swatted his shoulder. “Logan! That is so ninth grade, putting one where everybody can see it. I can’t believe you did that. Now I’m going to have to wear a turtleneck or cover it up with--”
“You can teach me something,” he interjected to distract her before she got completely wound up on necking etiquette and his lack thereof.
Veronica cocked her head to the side. “What did you say?”
“That’s how you can persuade me. Teach me something.” He looked around at the flour-covered kitchen. “What are you making?”
She glanced over at the abandoned bowl. “Snickerdoodles.” She shrugged. “They’re Wallace’s favorite and I’m making him a spirit box for the game next week.”
“Aww, good to know that pep club pride dies hard,” Logan teased. “So teach me how to do that.”
“Make snickerdoodles?” She eyed him suspiciously. “You want me to give you a baking lesson?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
She shrugged. “Well I’m no Julia Childs, but what the hell, if that’s what you want. Alright. Let me down please.”
Logan set his hands around her waist and lifted her off the counter. Hickey annoyance successfully diverted. Go him.
Except . . . he cast a wary eye at the ingredients spread around. He had to learn to bake. Cookies. Instead of making out with his super-hot girlfriend. He noticed her unconsciously fingering the mark on her neck again and smiled. They’d be back to that soon. “So get me started, Veronica.”
She pointed to the counter where ingredients were lined up from her previous batches. “Okay. It’s pretty straightforward. You need a cup of butter, a cup and a half of sugar, and 2 eggs.”
Logan found an empty bowl and measuring cup and dutifully measured out a cup and a half of sugar and cracked the two eggs, managing to only drop a few shells into the mix.
He glanced over to find Veronica smirking as he fished out the broken bits from the bowl.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she responded, her lips twitching.
“Seriously, Veronica, what’s so funny?” He dropped the spoon and tickled her side as she struggled not to drop the ball of dough she had in her hands. Backup appeared at her knee, liquid eyes hopeful.
“Stop, Logan, stop,” she gasped as she sidestepped his fingers. “You just make this goofy face when you’re all intent on something. It’s cute.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not cute. Backup is cute. I am not cute. Take it back.”
She shook her head smugly. “Nope. Cute.” She giggled again as he went in for the kill, and the snickerdoodle she’d been rolling out landed at her feet. They both stopped and watched as a grateful Backup scarfed the dough lightening fast.
“Backup! Bad dog!” Veronica scolded. “You know you’re not supposed to be eating that.” Backup cast a quick glance at Logan, who shrugged his sympathy, and the pit bull turned and slunk back down the hallway.
“That dog would be such a roly-poly if he got half the food he tried for.” Veronica shook her head as she returned to rolling more dough in the sugar and cinnamon mixture.
“He really likes cookie dough?” Logan replied as he unwrapped a stick of butter and started trying to mash it into the measuring cup.
“Loves it. He’s got a real sweet-” she broke off as she stared at Logan’s efforts. “What are you doing?”
“I’m measuring the butter,” he replied, poking at the stick. “It won’t fit in the cup.”
She picked up the wrapper and waved it in front of his nose. “See. The beauty of the butter stick. Handy-dandy premeasurements.”
Logan frowned at the mauled stick in the measuring cup. “So what do I do with this?”
“Just scrape it in with the sugar and eggs and mix everything up, it’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Then what?” he asked, as he vigorously mixed the ingredients.
“Let’s see. Okay you need two and three-quarters cups of self-rising flour, just mix that in with what you’ve got.” She paused and handed him an electric mixer. “Here, use this, it’ll be easier. Then you roll it into little balls like this,” she displayed the effort in her own hand, “and roll it in the cinnamon and sugar. We bake it for nine minutes at four hundred degrees, and presto, snickerdoodles.”
Logan finished mixing the dough and began to roll the cookies as she’d instructed.
“So you really don’t have to work tonight? No Hut, no cases, nothing?” he asked hopefully.
She leaned against him with a contented sigh. “Nope. First weekend off in what feels like forever.”
“I’m glad you called me.”
She smiled up at him as she finished with her batch and readied the first cookie sheet. “I’m glad I called you too. I’m really have missed you, Logan.”
She gave him a quick kiss and slid her pan into the oven, then turned and hopped back up on the counter beside him, grabbing a little bit of his dough. She held her legs out and wiggled her toes. “My feet are so tired.”
He sent her a knowing smile. “Is that code for rub my feet, Logan?”
She grinned in response. “Smart boy.”
He dropped his last cookie onto the pan and reached for her still extended foot.
She moaned in happiness. “Even better. Smart boy with great hands.” She leaned back as his hands massaged her foot and began to work their way up her calves. He slid higher, brushing beneath the edges of her short denim skirt to a murmured chorus of appreciation as she laid boneless on the countertop, relaxed beneath his hands.
Suddenly her head shot up and she propped herself on her elbows. “Logan?” He loved it when her voice got so low and breathy. “What are you doing?”
He smirked. “I think it’s time for me to teach you something.”
He traced the lace edge of her underwear before hooking his fingers in the sides and sliding them slowly down. She was already wet.
She blew out a long breath. “Teach me what?”
He gave her a look that made her blush right down to the cute polished toes he held in his hands as he discarded her underwear on the floor.
“Forget it, never mind. Talking bad. Teach away.” She collapsed back onto the counter and muffled a moan as his lips descended to her leg and began to nibble up her thigh. He licked a wet pattern of indiscriminate design across her tender skin, then reached over for some of the leftover sugar and spice mixture to crumble onto her leg.
She propped herself up so she could see him and breathed out his name in what sounded like encouragement to his ears as he let one hand roam higher beneath her skirt, tracing the slickness he found there as he slid two fingers within her tight body. He needed to kiss her, taste the jagged intake of her breath as her eyes fluttered shut, giving him a glimmer of darkened blue as her body adjusted, clenching around his fingers. He stole a quick kiss from her upturned mouth and fought the urge to rush things as she surged against him, pulling back to lick up the sweetness he crumbled on her inner thighs.
“Sugar and spice, and everything nice,” he chanted as his tongue followed the trail to the vee of her legs, pushing the denim up her hips. He paused for a long swipe of his tongue that had her shrieking his name before he raised his head. “That’s what little girls are made of.”
She shuddered as he slid his fingers slowly in and out, giving her only the slightest friction. “Finish the lesson, Logan,” she panted, as she tried to guide his head back down.
Ding. The over timer sounded.
He gave her one more lick as her head fell back on the counter with a groan. He murmured, “hold that thought,” as he showed an over mitt on his hand and extracted the pan onto the stove top. Logan whipped the second pan into the oven and restarted the timer.
He turned to find a very debauched looking Veronica giggled behind him. “Nice job. Now wanna play the Naked Chef?”
He looked her up and down. “I though we already were.”
She grabbed his oven mitt and tossed it to the side. “Then you’re falling behind.”
She slid off the counter and let him chase her to the chair in the living room. He pulled her down onto his lap as she shed her top and threw her bra across the room to land on the television.
“How much time do we have?” he panted as he kissed his way down her throat, cupping her breasts in his hand as she arched against him.
“Mmmm, nine, uh, minutes,” she managed to get out.
“Not enough time,” he muttered as she struggled to get his shirt loose and over his head. She succeeded and hurled it behind her as well as their lips met and hands roamed. She slid her fingers down his hard abs and toyed with the belt of his pants. “So what are little boys made of?”
He smirked. “Not a little boy, so I wouldn’t know.”
She gave him a come-hither smile. “So full of yourself.”
He slid his hand beneath the short skirt she still wore and held her against him as he ground against her bare flesh. “No, but you’re going to be full of me in a minute.”
Ding. The timer went off again. She groaned. “My turn. Hold that thought.”
He watched as she scampered into the kitchen. Topless baking could really take off as one of his favorite hobbies, he mused as he watched her expertly remove one pan and replace it with another before resetting the timer, her small breasts swaying enticingly.
He yanked his belt loose and hastily shed his pants and boxers as she headed back to the living room, a cookie in her hand.
“Want a bite?” she asked as she popped the button on her skirt and let it fall to the floor in front of him before situating herself back in the chair astride him.
“Of you?” he asked.
“Of the cookie.” she replied, popping off a chunk and raising it to his lips. “You can eat me later.” He bit down into the soft, warm chewiness and swallowed as she took her own bite.
“I think you’re sweeter,” he replied, rocking his hips against hers, letting his cock slide against her slickness. She was so beautiful like this, all smooth skin and abandon as she moved against him. It was still hard for her to let go sometimes, and it made the moments when she did with him that much more precious. He pulled her in for another kiss.
“The timer’s going to go off in just a minute,” she whispered, as she arched up and hovered over him.
He could feel her heat taunting him, calling to him, and he tried to coax her hips to sink just a little lower as he fought his frustration at her teasing. “Fuck, Veronica.”
She winked. “Oh, is that what you want? To fuck me? Why didn’t you say so?” she murmured as she slowly sank down on him. He caressed the sleek curves of her hips as she came to a stop when he was fully seated in her, savoring the moment before she began to ride him in earnest.
Ding. The buzzer sounded again.
“Fuck,” Logan muttered again as they both stopped and looked towards the kitchen. Veronica looked back at him, then back at the kitchen, then back at him.
She gave a shimmy of her hips. “How many cookies can Wallace eat, anyway? Let’m burn.”
“I love this woman,” Logan said to the heavens as he lifted her up and onto the couch.
Some time later, Veronica, now wearing his t-shirt and nothing else, gingerly slid the pan covered with charred lumps out of the oven.
“I don’t think this is salvageable,” she said, as she poked at the blackened cookies.
He stretched from his spot on the sofa and pulled on his boxers before joining her at the counter. He snatched a cookie from one of the cooled pans and took a bite. “Toss it.”
She frowned. “Logan, that was a new pan.”
He took it from her hand and deposited it in the trash. “I’ll buy you another one. Then you can give me another lesson. Cause baking? Kind of hot.”
He dodged the cookie bit she tossed at him and swept her up into his arms and back to her bedroom. He was ready for some more sugar and spice.
Author: Anne
Disclaimer: So not mine. All hail Rob Thomas.
Rating: R for sex and some language.
Pairing: Logan/Veronica
Word Count: 2,722
Summary: Set sometime in a future S3 where Veronica and Logan are happily together with zero issues. Like that will ever happen. Fluff + no plot + one recipe for snickerdoodles = Cheestastic total PWP.
Logan knocked on the door and waited patiently as he heard a bark and the clatter of metal, followed by a muffled curse. The door swung open to reveal a flushed Veronica, her face and shirt dotted with small particles of white powder.
He raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the doorframe.
Veronica gave a sigh as she motioned him inside the apartment. “It’s flour, I’m baking, Back-up made a play for some dough, don’t ask.” She turned to glare over her shoulder at the repentant pit bull now slinking down the hallway.
He followed her as she closed the door and patted herself down, trying to brush the flour off.
“Need some help with that?” he asked with a smirk, brushing away flour that had settled on her shoulder before letting his hand slip lower and trace the curve of her breast.
She let out a small gasp and shot him a look. “A little handsy today, aren’t we?”
He blew her a kiss. “Just being my usual helpful self.”
Veronica gave a little snort but inclined her head towards the kitchen, so he followed on her heels.
“No hello my uber-sexy boyfriend kiss?” he asked.
That earned him a second snort. She turned around. “Uber-sexy?”
“Don’t fight the attraction, Veronica.” He pulled her against him and she melted into his arms, her lips welcoming his kiss. She’d been busy all week with shifts at the Hut, cases at Mars Investigations, and her fall class load at Hearst, and he’d barely seen her. And that was a tragedy he intended to remedy tonight.
He broke away and asked between kisses. “So Daddy Mars is really gone for the weekend?”
She smiled against his lips. “Yes he is.”
“And you have the whole place to yourself?”
“I do. Except for the cameras.”
Logan pulled back. “Cameras?”
“You’re too easy,” Veronica laughed. “No cameras.”
He glanced around suspiciously. “You’re sure?”
“Mhmm. And I was getting so very lonely, here all alone,” she pouted. “I think I need someone to keep me company.”
Logan lifted her onto the only clear space on the countertop and she locked her arms and legs around him, pulling him in closer.
“Well, I’m open to persuasion,” he replied.
“Persuasion?” she flirted back. “Why, Mr. Echolls, whatever do you mean?”
“Just that I could be convinced to make you a little less lonely.”
“Could you now?” she drawled.
“Yep.” He dropped kisses down her neck as she murmured her approval. The silky fine strands of her hair slid through his fingers and he stopped, inhaling her scent that always left him a little weak-kneed. “I missed you,” he whispered.
“I missed you too,” she whispered back, tracing his ear with her tongue. He lost himself in her candy pink lips, delicate and delectable. He sometimes wondered if he was dreaming when she kissed him like this, the sass and spunk of before spiced with something new, sweeter and softer. And so very sexy.
“So . . . what kind of persuasion do you need?” she panted several minutes later, as they finally surfaced for air.
“Well . . .” Logan began, when he noticed the rapidly blossoming mark on her neck, right at that spot under her ear that always made her squirm against him just right. He couldn’t stop his smirk until he realized his mistake as she caught his stare.
“Hey,” she leaned back and felt at her neck, eyes narrowed. “Logan, did you just give me a hickey!?”
He tried to look innocent. “Maybe.”
She swatted his shoulder. “Logan! That is so ninth grade, putting one where everybody can see it. I can’t believe you did that. Now I’m going to have to wear a turtleneck or cover it up with--”
“You can teach me something,” he interjected to distract her before she got completely wound up on necking etiquette and his lack thereof.
Veronica cocked her head to the side. “What did you say?”
“That’s how you can persuade me. Teach me something.” He looked around at the flour-covered kitchen. “What are you making?”
She glanced over at the abandoned bowl. “Snickerdoodles.” She shrugged. “They’re Wallace’s favorite and I’m making him a spirit box for the game next week.”
“Aww, good to know that pep club pride dies hard,” Logan teased. “So teach me how to do that.”
“Make snickerdoodles?” She eyed him suspiciously. “You want me to give you a baking lesson?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
She shrugged. “Well I’m no Julia Childs, but what the hell, if that’s what you want. Alright. Let me down please.”
Logan set his hands around her waist and lifted her off the counter. Hickey annoyance successfully diverted. Go him.
Except . . . he cast a wary eye at the ingredients spread around. He had to learn to bake. Cookies. Instead of making out with his super-hot girlfriend. He noticed her unconsciously fingering the mark on her neck again and smiled. They’d be back to that soon. “So get me started, Veronica.”
She pointed to the counter where ingredients were lined up from her previous batches. “Okay. It’s pretty straightforward. You need a cup of butter, a cup and a half of sugar, and 2 eggs.”
Logan found an empty bowl and measuring cup and dutifully measured out a cup and a half of sugar and cracked the two eggs, managing to only drop a few shells into the mix.
He glanced over to find Veronica smirking as he fished out the broken bits from the bowl.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she responded, her lips twitching.
“Seriously, Veronica, what’s so funny?” He dropped the spoon and tickled her side as she struggled not to drop the ball of dough she had in her hands. Backup appeared at her knee, liquid eyes hopeful.
“Stop, Logan, stop,” she gasped as she sidestepped his fingers. “You just make this goofy face when you’re all intent on something. It’s cute.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not cute. Backup is cute. I am not cute. Take it back.”
She shook her head smugly. “Nope. Cute.” She giggled again as he went in for the kill, and the snickerdoodle she’d been rolling out landed at her feet. They both stopped and watched as a grateful Backup scarfed the dough lightening fast.
“Backup! Bad dog!” Veronica scolded. “You know you’re not supposed to be eating that.” Backup cast a quick glance at Logan, who shrugged his sympathy, and the pit bull turned and slunk back down the hallway.
“That dog would be such a roly-poly if he got half the food he tried for.” Veronica shook her head as she returned to rolling more dough in the sugar and cinnamon mixture.
“He really likes cookie dough?” Logan replied as he unwrapped a stick of butter and started trying to mash it into the measuring cup.
“Loves it. He’s got a real sweet-” she broke off as she stared at Logan’s efforts. “What are you doing?”
“I’m measuring the butter,” he replied, poking at the stick. “It won’t fit in the cup.”
She picked up the wrapper and waved it in front of his nose. “See. The beauty of the butter stick. Handy-dandy premeasurements.”
Logan frowned at the mauled stick in the measuring cup. “So what do I do with this?”
“Just scrape it in with the sugar and eggs and mix everything up, it’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Then what?” he asked, as he vigorously mixed the ingredients.
“Let’s see. Okay you need two and three-quarters cups of self-rising flour, just mix that in with what you’ve got.” She paused and handed him an electric mixer. “Here, use this, it’ll be easier. Then you roll it into little balls like this,” she displayed the effort in her own hand, “and roll it in the cinnamon and sugar. We bake it for nine minutes at four hundred degrees, and presto, snickerdoodles.”
Logan finished mixing the dough and began to roll the cookies as she’d instructed.
“So you really don’t have to work tonight? No Hut, no cases, nothing?” he asked hopefully.
She leaned against him with a contented sigh. “Nope. First weekend off in what feels like forever.”
“I’m glad you called me.”
She smiled up at him as she finished with her batch and readied the first cookie sheet. “I’m glad I called you too. I’m really have missed you, Logan.”
She gave him a quick kiss and slid her pan into the oven, then turned and hopped back up on the counter beside him, grabbing a little bit of his dough. She held her legs out and wiggled her toes. “My feet are so tired.”
He sent her a knowing smile. “Is that code for rub my feet, Logan?”
She grinned in response. “Smart boy.”
He dropped his last cookie onto the pan and reached for her still extended foot.
She moaned in happiness. “Even better. Smart boy with great hands.” She leaned back as his hands massaged her foot and began to work their way up her calves. He slid higher, brushing beneath the edges of her short denim skirt to a murmured chorus of appreciation as she laid boneless on the countertop, relaxed beneath his hands.
Suddenly her head shot up and she propped herself on her elbows. “Logan?” He loved it when her voice got so low and breathy. “What are you doing?”
He smirked. “I think it’s time for me to teach you something.”
He traced the lace edge of her underwear before hooking his fingers in the sides and sliding them slowly down. She was already wet.
She blew out a long breath. “Teach me what?”
He gave her a look that made her blush right down to the cute polished toes he held in his hands as he discarded her underwear on the floor.
“Forget it, never mind. Talking bad. Teach away.” She collapsed back onto the counter and muffled a moan as his lips descended to her leg and began to nibble up her thigh. He licked a wet pattern of indiscriminate design across her tender skin, then reached over for some of the leftover sugar and spice mixture to crumble onto her leg.
She propped herself up so she could see him and breathed out his name in what sounded like encouragement to his ears as he let one hand roam higher beneath her skirt, tracing the slickness he found there as he slid two fingers within her tight body. He needed to kiss her, taste the jagged intake of her breath as her eyes fluttered shut, giving him a glimmer of darkened blue as her body adjusted, clenching around his fingers. He stole a quick kiss from her upturned mouth and fought the urge to rush things as she surged against him, pulling back to lick up the sweetness he crumbled on her inner thighs.
“Sugar and spice, and everything nice,” he chanted as his tongue followed the trail to the vee of her legs, pushing the denim up her hips. He paused for a long swipe of his tongue that had her shrieking his name before he raised his head. “That’s what little girls are made of.”
She shuddered as he slid his fingers slowly in and out, giving her only the slightest friction. “Finish the lesson, Logan,” she panted, as she tried to guide his head back down.
Ding. The over timer sounded.
He gave her one more lick as her head fell back on the counter with a groan. He murmured, “hold that thought,” as he showed an over mitt on his hand and extracted the pan onto the stove top. Logan whipped the second pan into the oven and restarted the timer.
He turned to find a very debauched looking Veronica giggled behind him. “Nice job. Now wanna play the Naked Chef?”
He looked her up and down. “I though we already were.”
She grabbed his oven mitt and tossed it to the side. “Then you’re falling behind.”
She slid off the counter and let him chase her to the chair in the living room. He pulled her down onto his lap as she shed her top and threw her bra across the room to land on the television.
“How much time do we have?” he panted as he kissed his way down her throat, cupping her breasts in his hand as she arched against him.
“Mmmm, nine, uh, minutes,” she managed to get out.
“Not enough time,” he muttered as she struggled to get his shirt loose and over his head. She succeeded and hurled it behind her as well as their lips met and hands roamed. She slid her fingers down his hard abs and toyed with the belt of his pants. “So what are little boys made of?”
He smirked. “Not a little boy, so I wouldn’t know.”
She gave him a come-hither smile. “So full of yourself.”
He slid his hand beneath the short skirt she still wore and held her against him as he ground against her bare flesh. “No, but you’re going to be full of me in a minute.”
Ding. The timer went off again. She groaned. “My turn. Hold that thought.”
He watched as she scampered into the kitchen. Topless baking could really take off as one of his favorite hobbies, he mused as he watched her expertly remove one pan and replace it with another before resetting the timer, her small breasts swaying enticingly.
He yanked his belt loose and hastily shed his pants and boxers as she headed back to the living room, a cookie in her hand.
“Want a bite?” she asked as she popped the button on her skirt and let it fall to the floor in front of him before situating herself back in the chair astride him.
“Of you?” he asked.
“Of the cookie.” she replied, popping off a chunk and raising it to his lips. “You can eat me later.” He bit down into the soft, warm chewiness and swallowed as she took her own bite.
“I think you’re sweeter,” he replied, rocking his hips against hers, letting his cock slide against her slickness. She was so beautiful like this, all smooth skin and abandon as she moved against him. It was still hard for her to let go sometimes, and it made the moments when she did with him that much more precious. He pulled her in for another kiss.
“The timer’s going to go off in just a minute,” she whispered, as she arched up and hovered over him.
He could feel her heat taunting him, calling to him, and he tried to coax her hips to sink just a little lower as he fought his frustration at her teasing. “Fuck, Veronica.”
She winked. “Oh, is that what you want? To fuck me? Why didn’t you say so?” she murmured as she slowly sank down on him. He caressed the sleek curves of her hips as she came to a stop when he was fully seated in her, savoring the moment before she began to ride him in earnest.
Ding. The buzzer sounded again.
“Fuck,” Logan muttered again as they both stopped and looked towards the kitchen. Veronica looked back at him, then back at the kitchen, then back at him.
She gave a shimmy of her hips. “How many cookies can Wallace eat, anyway? Let’m burn.”
“I love this woman,” Logan said to the heavens as he lifted her up and onto the couch.
Some time later, Veronica, now wearing his t-shirt and nothing else, gingerly slid the pan covered with charred lumps out of the oven.
“I don’t think this is salvageable,” she said, as she poked at the blackened cookies.
He stretched from his spot on the sofa and pulled on his boxers before joining her at the counter. He snatched a cookie from one of the cooled pans and took a bite. “Toss it.”
She frowned. “Logan, that was a new pan.”
He took it from her hand and deposited it in the trash. “I’ll buy you another one. Then you can give me another lesson. Cause baking? Kind of hot.”
He dodged the cookie bit she tossed at him and swept her up into his arms and back to her bedroom. He was ready for some more sugar and spice.