Let Us Eat Cake
Table of Contents
Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgment
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
Let Us Eat Cake
ISBN # 978-1-78430-827-8
©Copyright Destiny Moon 2015
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright October 2015
Edited by Jamie D. Rose
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Burning and a Sexometer of 1.
LET US EAT CAKE
Destiny Moon
Busy and cynical Rachel could not have expected to run into her old school crush at the grocery store, much less imagined what he has in mind for her.
University undergrad Rachel Perkins has given up on dating. She’s busy with classes and a job. One night she goes out grocery shopping in the middle of the Michigan winter. At the store she runs into a guy with whom she had a brief romance in high school. It doesn’t take long for the old sparks to start flying again, and Rachel can’t decide what to do.
When she follows her heart to Jeff’s place, she learns that he seems quite different from her, particularly when it comes to desires—or is he? His revelation that he is into dominance both frightens and excites her. She has fantasized about being submissive under the right circumstances but never expected those circumstances to pan out. When Jeff offers her an opportunity to explore, she wants to take it.
However, when her own fears kick in, Rachel must grapple with her sexual identity. Does she have the power to give up control? Jeff is confident that he can give her what she needs, but that’s a tall order when she herself is unsure what that is.
Dedication
For B.
Trademarks Acknowledgment
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Reality Bites: Universal Pictures
Cinderella: Disney Enterprises Inc.
Mason jar: Ball Corporation
Shalini: Shalini Fashion
Betty Boop: Fleischer Studios Inc.
Chapter One
It was a cold and dreary January evening and I didn’t want to leave the warm two-bedroom flat I shared with my roommate Savannah. If only I’d stocked the cupboards on my way home, but that would have been too sensible. I had to brave the elements to get everything I needed to make lentil soup—my student diet staple—then return home to my crock-pot and space heater. My roommate was lounging on the sofa, reading a textbook on the indigenous peoples of New Zealand, which I’d sold to her for a few bucks after I’d taken that particular anthropology course.
“Want anything from the store?” I asked, applying layers and layers. I had long johns beneath my jeans and about three different sweaters underneath my parka.
“How about cake?”
“Cake?”
“Yeah, like from the frozen section. Maybe chocolate,” she said, looking up. Our living room was cozy with just the reading lights on and she looked so comfortable in her sweatpants and slippers.
“You really want frozen cake in the middle of January?”
“Sure. Why not?”
I shook my head at her. I’d never understand how she could embrace the temperatures. In the Michigan winter, I was dreaming of tropical vacations and had cut out pictures of the sun to put up in my room, just so I’d remember that seemingly long lost concept called summer.
“See you in a little while,” I said and closed the door behind me. The chill burned my face as I marched through the snow-laden streets to the market.
* * * *
Blasted with heat upon entering the store, I hurried to take my scarf off and open my parka so I wouldn’t start sweating. Basket in hand, I picked out carrots, potatoes and onions for the soup, then went to the frozen foods section for cake.
Thinking about the essay I still needed to finish that night, I stood mesmerized in front of the cheesecakes and pies. I hadn’t been prepared for the vastness of the aisle, the magnitude of possibilities.
“What are you going to choose?”
Jolted back to reality, I looked toward the source of the question. It was Jeff from my old high school, sporting a friendly and confident smile. I hadn’t seen him in years and here he was, looking just as drool-worthy as he had back then.
“Huh?” Get it together! I hugged him, and tried to recover from my awkwardness. “Jeff!”
“Rachel,” he said. “What dessert are you going to choose? What’s your favorite?”
It was just like him to be so casual. It had been ages since we’d last seen each other. I was self-conscious that he’d caught me without any makeup or anything and he looked like he had come straight from a job downtown.
“Uh.” I tried my best to pull it together. I had not considered, even remotely, that I would see the big crush of my teen years while out dressed as the Abominable Snowman. “It’s for my roommate, actually.”
“What does she like?”
“She said to bring home some kind of frozen chocolate cake.”
“In January?”
I laughed. “That’s what I said. She’s crazy, right?”
“Sounds like it, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t even want to open the freezer door.”
“Smart of you. Besides, if you want a good chocolate cake, this is not the place. Follow me.”
Jeff turned on his heels and made his way out of the frozen aisle. Did he really expect me to follow him?
I quickly caught up. “Where are you taking me? How have you been?”
He stopped in the store’s bakery section.
“I’m well. I’m glad to see you,” he said. “Your friend is dead wrong about chocolate. The best cake is carrot and this one is surprisingly good.”
He reached for a packaged one and put it into my basket.
“Carrot is my favorite,” I said.
“Then you have good taste.”
“I don’t know if Savannah likes it, though.”
“Well, if she doesn’t, won’t that be a bonus for you?” His devious grin sparkled like he was picturing me purposely disregarding my roommate’s request so I could sneak cake into my room late at night.
“You�
�re bad,” I said.
“Very,” he agreed.
“Some things never change.”
“Oh yeah? What do you mean by that?”
Whoa. Did he really not remember?
“You and me. Senior year. The beach party?”
He smiled. “I haven’t forgotten. Do you still know all the lyrics to every Bob Dylan song ever recorded?”
“I do,” I said. But the sing-a-long was not what I was referring to. We made out all night. I wanted to go all the way but he stopped me since I’d been drinking, and he said he wasn’t the kind of guy who could take advantage. I always appreciated that intellectually, but I was so bummed he’d never asked me out. I found out shortly after the beach party that he went out with Chloe Sanderson and I was heartbroken.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, as though he could tell that my mind was elsewhere, piecing together the history of longing I had for him.
“Me?” I snapped back into the moment. “Why, I was thinking about cake, of course.”
“I’m thinking you should offer me a piece of this deliciousness.” The way he eyed me made me feel naked.
“You mean carrot cake?”
“Sure, if that’s what you want to offer.”
I stared at him for a moment, trying to glean the meaning of his bold words.
“You’re really bad,” I said. “It’s a school night. I have a paper due tomorrow. I had no idea I’d be meeting…” A tall, dark and handsome ghost from my past.
“I’m an exceedingly bad influence,” he agreed. He took the lid off the cake I was holding and pierced the perfect frosting with his finger. Then he brought his cream cheese-laden forefinger to my mouth. What could I do?
I took his digit into my mouth, right there beneath the florescent lights of the bakery section.
“How is it?”
“Mmmm,” I moaned, my taste buds in overload.
“I like that sound you’re making.” He grinned. “I want to hear more of that.”
“This icing is so good,” I said, trying to cling to what little innocence was left.
“You want more, don’t you?” he asked.
“More frosting?” I was confused.
“More everything,” he said. Then he plunged his finger into the cake again and pushed his way into my reluctant mouth. I didn’t want to be fed this way in public, but I couldn’t help it. My mouth was agape.
He filled it with creamy goodness and I moaned louder. I sucked on his finger, keeping it in my mouth longer than necessary for licking it clean.
“You have beautiful lips,” he said.
I raised my eyebrows and licked my lips. “Thank you.”
“I want to watch you eat more. I bet you look even sexier eating cake.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yeah, I would.”
There was a tingle deep inside me that told me sexy Jeff—whom I’d never gotten over—was my reward for venturing out into the cold, and for the entire last semester of hard work. It had been ages since I’d had any fun at all, let alone fun in the company of a guy. My long-term fellow and I had ended it—badly—almost a year earlier. Since then, my friends had started to call me cynical and I’d begun to think of myself as hopeless in the love department. I didn’t even trust guys enough to have simple hook-ups, like Savannah did. That seemed too emotionally unsatisfying. But Jeff…
“So what’s your deal now? Do you hang out at the store a lot?” I asked.
“As a matter of fact, no. This is my first time here.”
“Weird that we should happen to cross paths then.”
“Or fate,” he said. He grinned. “What do you study?”
“Anthropology.”
He nodded. “So are you going to analyze the flirtation techniques of old flames then?”
“So you are flirting,” I said. “I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know if you really remembered me from… Well, you know.”
“Of course I remember.”
“But you chose Chloe Sanderson instead of me.”
I couldn’t believe I had blurted it out like that. All those years of pent-up insecurity and angst came out into the open.
“I was young and stupid,” he said. “It was the wrong choice. I know better now.”
“Do you?” I didn’t want to seem too desperate after laying all my cards on the table.
“Let me prove it to you. Come over.”
“I have a paper to write.”
“What happens if you’re a very bad girl and don’t get your work done?”
“Um, well, I could fail.”
“You won’t fail. You’re too smart to fail. I think you should take the night off and come back to my place. I have a record player and some Dylan records.”
“Get out. You do?”
He nodded. “You really got to me that night, you know. You turned me into a fan.”
This kind of thing had never happened to me before. I was not the girl who got hit on, certainly not by guys who told me I made an impression on them. It didn’t happen when I went out to bars—which I almost never did—nor did guys talk to me in my classes and least of all at the store. I owed it to myself to let Jeff flatter me a little more.
“You’ve convinced me. Let’s have cake,” I said. My usually sensible self took the back seat while a flirty side I had entirely forgotten about came out.
“My place?” He asked. “I’m not too far from here.”
“What about my roommate? She’s the one who wanted cake, after all.”
“Let’s pick her up one of those frozen chocolate ones and drop it off on the way.”
Chapter Two
Jeff carried the frozen cake to the checkout. He placed it on the black roller along with some whole grain cereal, berries and juice. From the looks of it, he was a sensible eater. I had the carrot cake and my other produce. I tried to pull the chocolate cake into my pile, but Jeff put his hand out to stop me.
“No way. This cake is a fate cake. I’m buying it.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
I was a little relieved as my student budget wasn’t exactly conducive to multiple desserts.
Outside, Jeff hit a clicker on his key chain and up ahead, I saw a gray sports car flash its amber lights and squeal into the winter evening. He must have been busy since graduation.
“It’s happy to see you,” I said.
“Yeah, Bessie. My loyal companion.”
“So she’s a she?”
“Sure. Why not? I take good care of her,” he said.
He opened the door for me. I got in and wondered what I was doing in Jeff Connoly’s car after dark. This was not what my mother had taught me—that was for sure. She didn’t care for Jeff back then. I wondered how she’d feel now.
As I directed Jeff to my place, I had a strong sense that he was one of the good ones. The guy watched his fiber intake, after all.
“Honey, I’m home,” I called into our basement suite. The entrance was into the kitchen and I knew I had to raise my voice for Savannah to hear me in the living room. “And I’m leaving again.”
“You’re what?” Savannah came to see me.
I handed her the frozen cake. “I met a guy.”
“You did?” She gave me a questioning look that my mother would have approved of. It suggested I was nuts.
“This guy Jeff. We went to high school together,” I said, rather convincingly.
“Well, where is he?”
“Waiting in the car.”
“He has a car?” She shrugged. “Well, then.”
I laughed. Our world was so sparse and frugal that things like cars seemed exotic.
* * * *
When we got to Jeff’s building, he used another clicker to open the parking garage. We entered into an enclosed concrete space. Before long, we were in an elevator. He pressed the number fourteen, just beneath the penthouse suite.
&
nbsp; He opened the door for me and turned on the lights. Immediately, chill music played like we were at a lounge. The lighting was soft, mostly indirect lights that shone onto paintings and bookshelves and a gorgeous cabinet. This place was slick.
“Whoa. What do you do for a living?” I asked, perhaps tactlessly and too soon.
“I’m an accountant.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, it’s not sexy. I usually don’t lead with that.”
“I have nothing against it. I still suck at math, that’s all.”
He took my parka off. I pulled my two outer sweaters over my head and passed them to him. It was warm enough in his apartment to dress like a regular person, which was a real luxury.
“What do you do now?”
“When I’m not studying anthropology, I work at the registrar on campus. I guess that sounds kind of boring, too. I also write poetry and sometimes read it out at open mic night at The Cat’s Eye Lounge.”
“That’s something I’d love to see.”
“Well, play your cards right and maybe,” I said in a teasing way.
“Thing is,” he said, “I’m not the card-playing kind. I’ve outgrown games.”
“This from a guy who wanted me to chase him to the cakes? Ha!”
He looked at me as though he was surprised by my comment.
“Are you going to offer me some cake or are you going to make me chase you again?” I didn’t know where this brazen side was coming from, but I felt sassy and that was grand.
“You’re feisty, aren’t you?” he said, leading me to his kitchen. It was one of those perfect condo kitchens with a bowl of green pears on the counter that looked like it had been stage directed. It was spotless.
“I can be,” I said.
“I like feisty,” he said.
“Oh good. Are we having tea, too?” I asked.