Spice

Book 1: A Sugar and Spice Novel

by Seressia Glass

Genres: Women's Fiction; Contemporary Romance; Romantic Suspense

Synopsis

Nadia Spiceland works in the business of temptation. The confections she crafts at the Sugar and Spice Bakery and Café lure in the locals. But one customer is interested in more than just her delectable sticky buns.



Kane Sullivan teaches human sexuality at the nearby college, where coeds are clamoring for seats in his lectures. Nadia is reluctant to respond to his advances, yet she also has needs. Who better to fulfill them than the man who's referred to as "Dr. Sex" by his female students?



Soon Kane creates a hunger in Nadia that nothing can satiate. It weakens her, and that's something she cannot risk. Not again. But Kane's masterful touch might just be powerful enough to melt her heart-and free her to trust again.

Contains mature themes.

Release date: November 4, 2014

Publisher: Berkley

Print pages: 336

Sample

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ONE

“Girlfriend’s working a new ’do, I see,” Audie slyly observed as Nadia joined her friends at the café table. “Anything we should know?”

The other two women—Vanessa Longfellow and Nadia’s business partner, Siobhan Malloy—looked at her in expectation. “I felt like a change, is all,” Nadia told them, one hand reaching for her hair. She’d paid the stylist more money than she felt comfortable spending post-Hollywood, but couldn’t deny the results. Her no-nonsense ponytail was gone, replaced by a shoulder-length layered cut with streaks of burgundy and copper highlighting the dark brown.

“Uh-huh,” Siobhan said. “You suddenly felt like a change. Anything to do with that anniversary we just celebrated?”

“Thanks, Siobhan.” Nadia rolled her eyes. Yeah, she’d just celebrated her fourth “birthday”—four years being drug free—but she was also staring thirty in the face like a deer caught in headlights. These women made it bearable: Siobhan “Sugar” Malloy, the best business partner a girl could want, and Audie and Vanessa, two women she hadn’t known six months ago. She’d met them for the first time when she and Siobhan had decided to keep the café open late on Tuesday nights as a meeting place for a variety of support groups. It didn’t matter what the person had survived—burnout, divorce, abusive relationships, or, in Siobhan’s and Nadia’s case, drug addiction—all were welcome. It quickly became a necessary component of their week, a guaranteed time to decompress and talk about anything.

“I just think it’s time,” she finally said. “Time for a fresh start, a fresh look.”

“Which can only mean one thing!” Vanessa exclaimed. “Our girl’s ready to wade into the dating pool again.”

“About time you decide to put yourself out there.” Siobhan sipped her tea, her blue-gray eyes sparkling. “You’re too young to be a nun.”

“So are you, partner,” Nadia shot back. “Especially with all those studs at your burlesque shows standing around with their tongues hanging out like a pack of dogs fighting over a juicy steak.”

“Yeah.” Siobhan snorted. “A thirty-five-year-old steak.”

“Like they care when they see that smoking-hot bod you’ve got.” Nadia shook her head. “Anyway, I don’t think there was anything wrong with being married to the job for a little while. We had to focus on getting Sugar and Spice off the ground. It was worth all the time, blood, sweat, and tears we put into it.”

“Damn right, it was.” Audie waved her peanut butter and bacon muffin. “This is the best damn thing I’ve ever eaten, and it doesn’t even have chocolate in it!”

“No one’s saying it wasn’t,” Siobhan said. “We did what we had to do to make this place a success. I think it’s okay to ease up a little bit now. And I definitely think it’s time for you to have a relationship.”

“No! No.” Nadia waved her hands. “Sex, yes. Relationship, no. I want the feels without all the drama. Like a male escort.”

Vanessa, the proper one of the bunch, narrowed her eyes. “You do know that’s illegal, right?”

“Geesh, guys, I’m not stupid. I’m not looking for danger, but I’m not looking for true love either. I don’t even believe it exists. I just think it’s time for me, for all of us, to think about what makes us happy on multiple levels and take some time to pursue it. If we get a little something-something in the meantime, that’s just gravy.”

“You’ve obviously been thinking about this a lot,” Siobhan remarked. “So spill the secrets you saw in the tea leaves.”

Nadia ignored the sarcasm. “Yeah, I have been thinking. My track record with relationships sucks. The best one I’ve ever had was with my therapist, and all I did was talk his ear off for an hour every week. How messed up is that?”

She sighed. “So, no to relationships. But sex? Bring it on. The wilder the better.”

A wicked glint lit Audie’s eyes. At twenty-five, she was the youngest and most sexually liberated of them, sometimes overly so, which was why she’d joined their Tuesday night group. “So you want to let your freak flag fly? I betcha you can find a couple of college boys who’ll step up for fun sexy-times. I could hook you up.”

“No!” Siobhan and Vanessa said together. Vanessa put a hand on Audie’s forearm. “No offense, chica, but your taste in men needs an upgrade. Nadia doesn’t need a douche bag for this.”

Nadia laughed at Audie’s outraged expression. “No boys, no matter the stamina,” she clarified. “I want a man. A man who’s into more than vanilla sex. A man who will bend me over the sofa a time or two.”

“Go on, girl.” They leaned in closer.

Nadia’s voice rose. “I want a man who knows that The Perfumed Garden isn’t a boutique in the mall.”

“Preach it!”

“I want a man with a cock that should be classified as a weapon of mass seduction.”

“I know that’s right!”

“I want a man who doesn’t freak out when you successfully hit the male version of the G-spot while sucking him dry.”

“Okay already! We got it. God.” Vanessa swallowed some of her iced tea, then peered into the glass. “I think I need some Long Island in this tea now.”

“Sorry, Nessa.” Nadia smiled at the group. “You know I’ve just had my imagination and my B.O.B. for the last few years, and there’s only so much the battery-operated boyfriend can do. I’m ready for more. I’m going to get my happy on, dammit. And right now, being happy means no more goody-two-shoes.”

“Here’s to no more goody-two-shoes.” Siobhan raised her glass. “At least when it comes to sex.”

The others raised their cups and mugs and echoed her. “At least when it comes to sex!”

“Okay, I have a question,” Audie said as she set her mug down. “What’s this Perfumed Garden stuff? I mean, it really does sound like a store in the mall.”

“It’s not.” Nadia pushed her bangs back. “It’s basically an Arabic erotic text from the sixteenth century or so. Kinda like the Kama Sutra.”

“So, Nadia.” Vanessa’s smile was completely predatory as the other women sipped their drinks. “Got anyone in particular on your radar?”

“At the moment, no one.” Nadia cut her eyes at Vanessa, wondering at the sly grin that curved her lips. “I just made my mind up to jump into this. You know that.”

“All righty, then.” Vanessa rubbed her hands together. “I’ll make a suggestion.”

“It’s not somebody Audie’s dated, is it?”

“I don’t think so. What about the professor over there?” Vanessa tossed her chin toward the front windows, where they had several plush chairs and side tables set aside for those who liked to linger. A dark-haired man sat in one of the chairs, a tablet in one hand. He came in often, becoming a regular over the last few weeks, always ordering a matcha tea latte and a sticky bun.

“He’s a professor?” Nadia asked Vanessa, who also taught at Herscher University, the research institution that the town of Crimson Bay had been built around.

“He is. Dr. Kaname Sullivan is his name. I think he more than meets your requirements, based on what I’ve heard.”

They all leaned closer to Vanessa. “What have you heard?” Siobhan asked.

Vanessa blotted at her lips with a delicate pat of her napkin. How the bronze-skinned woman managed to eat and drink without marring her plum lipstick was a skill Nadia admired and envied. “He teaches human sexuality, and his classes are always packed. Almost all the students—the female ones, at least—call him Professor Sex. Apparently he practices what he teaches.”

“Really.” Audie’s voice had a purr to it, like a lazy cat deciding it was time to go hunting.

Vanessa shot Audie a quelling glance. “Sheathe your claws, missy,” she ordered, before turning back to Nadia. “He became a household name after consulting on a high-profile sexual predator case down in Los Angeles. He’s written a couple of successful nonfiction books and consulted with the FBI on some of their more twisted cases.”

“Wow.” Nadia sat back. “Sounds impressive.” And way out of my league.

Vanessa grinned. “More than that, I think he’s interested in you.”

“What?” Nadia spluttered into her iced latte. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do,” Vanessa said in that cultured voice of hers. “He’s been in here every day we have. In the same spot. And he hasn’t taken a bite of that sticky bun in two minutes. That’s suspicious enough right there.”

Nadia refrained from looking at the man in question again. She remembered the first day he’d come into the café. He’d been upset about something—his tie partially undone, his thick hair mussed as if he’d ran his fingers through it repeatedly. She’d pointed him at a chair then brought him the sweet bun and green tea latte without asking him for his preference. He’d taken it, tasted it, and instantly transformed his mood. The smile he’d given her as he’d thanked her had elevated him from nice-looking to handsome, but that had been as far as she’d allowed herself to go back then. Now, though, was a different story.

Maybe the professor had earned his nickname. Still, there was a vast difference in being an expert on sex and an expert at sex. She darted a quick glance at the man in question, currently pretending to thumb through his tablet. Good-looking in a geeky sort of way, he seemed to be a mix of Asian and European with thick, swept-back dark hair and a goatee framing his angular face, his eyes hidden behind wire-rimmed glasses. Dressed in a navy blazer, pale blue shirt, and khakis, he was definitely not her usual type, though lately she hadn’t had a type at all.

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Audie bit into her muffin, suppressing a moan of pleasure. “Come on, Nadia. You just declared your sexual reawakening. You can’t chicken out now. Especially if you can get with Professor Sex.”

“I’m not chickening out. I just . . .” Her voice faded as she looked at the professor again. This time he looked back. She blinked. Whoa.

The intensity of his gaze stifled her breath and pulled her in. Everything else fell away as their gazes locked and held. She could read challenge and command in his midnight eyes even though his glasses partially concealed them. He’d gone from geeky to gawd-damn in five seconds, and her body instinctively responded, her nipples pebbling, her core clenching. Damn, it had been too long since she’d gotten laid, and she was ready, so very ready. If Professor Sex offered, she’d have to take him up on it.

He raised an eyebrow, and her breath shortened. Then he smiled, and it was so sensual, so full of promise, that she had to shift in her chair. Oh yeah, he was definitely offering. And she was definitely going to accept.

“Earth to Nadia. Come in, Nadia.”

Siobhan waved a hand in front of her eyes, breaking the mesmerizing hold Sullivan had on her. She blinked, surprised to find her friends all staring at her with matching grins. “What?”

“You know what.” Her partner laughed as she pushed Nadia out of her chair. “Professor Sex is waiting on you to check him out. Go get him.”

—

Busted.

Kane flipped through files on his tablet to cover his chagrin. The muffin-lover had nailed him perfectly. He’d been biding his time, studying his target, playing on his unobtrusiveness while waiting for the right moment to make his move. Thanks to the redhead, he had to make his move now. At least the afternoon crowd had thinned out, limiting the witnesses to Nadia’s friends.

Nadia Spiceland. He’d wanted her ever since he’d entered the café angry over something or someone he couldn’t remember. She’d pointed him to a quiet corner then brought over a pastry of some sort and a cup of tea, a strong, bitter matcha that had reminded him of his mother. That, combined with the scent of baked goods and premium coffee, had calmed him down almost instantly, and one bite into the pastry had made him a goner. Nadia’s heart-shaped face, the ready smile on her full lips, and the way she remembered all the regulars had completely won him over. The sweet curve of her hips and high, full breasts only added to her allure. He wanted her for all that she was and for all the things she wasn’t: a student, faculty, shy, or married.

He wanted her because the look in her eyes challenged him, dared him to try to please her. He’d gone hard hearing her sexual declaration, need gripping him at the image of handling her smooth curves, bending her over a couch and fucking her until they were both too tired to stand. He wanted to feel her gripping him, milking him until he was empty. He just wanted her, period.

He gathered his things, then stood with resolve. So, sweet Nadia Spiceland was free and on the prowl. And most importantly, didn’t want vanilla sex. Good to know. He didn’t do vanilla either.

“Hi, Professor Sullivan.” Nadia gave him her best professional smile as she met him at the counter. She’d always called him “sir” before, and he’d seen no reason to correct that. “Did you enjoy the bun?”

“I think by now you can call me Kaname, or Kane,” he said, trying not to stare at her T-shirt. It looked to be a size or two too small considering the way it hugged her more-than-a-handful breasts and allowed her belly button to peek from beneath the hem. It bore the café’s strategically placed logo, two pin-up style female chefs sitting on the name Sugar and Spice, with the tag line, “Everything nice!”

He gave her a smile as he handed over a twenty. “I always enjoy your buns.”

“Ah, oh.” She grew flustered as she worked the register. “Well, I guess that’s why you’re a repeat customer, right?”

“It’s one of the reasons.” He nodded, then grinned with true appreciation. “No matter what mood I’m in, you seem to have just what I need.”

She dropped his change on the floor. He smiled as he heard her friends giggling at the table behind him.

He leaned over the counter, staring at the line of her back beneath the chocolate-colored T-shirt, the luscious curve of her butt emphasized by the tight low-rise jeans. Damn, he wanted to get his palms on that ass, lick every indentation of her spine. “By the way, I don’t like vanilla either.”

She straightened with a snap, her cinnamon brown eyes deer-in-the-headlights wide. “What?”

“I heard you say that you don’t like vanilla. Neither do I.”

Her mouth worked silently for a moment. “You . . . don’t?”

“Don’t get me wrong, vanilla done well can be extremely satisfying. But there’s nothing wrong with a little spice, some variety, extra flavor on the tongue. Don’t you think?”

She had his change in a death grip, her head down. When she looked at him again, a wicked, challenging light shone in her gaze. He was in trouble.

“I definitely believe in variety being the spice of life, Professor,” she said, her voice low and husky. “It’s why I make sure I offer a little something extra for every taste.”

Let’s see how far she’ll go, he thought. He leaned forward, dropping his voice to match hers. “I’d like to sample more of what you have to offer.”

Her nipples pebbled as he watched. He reflexively licked his lips, his hands curling against the edge of the counter in an effort to resist touching her. He had to remind himself that he was civilized, educated, a world traveler, cultured. One did not throw a woman over one’s shoulder to find the nearest flat surface in a public place. But he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to.

He forced his gaze back to her face, just in time to see a dimple sprout on her left cheek. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. Would you be willing to set up a taste test?”

Her gaze roamed over him, then her lips pursed in what he steadfastly believed was approval. “Are we still talking about desserts?”

“Absolutely not.”

The table behind him was silent as a grave. He saw her eyes dart to her friends, then back to him.

“A taste test, huh?” She arched a brow. “I suppose you’re going to try to convince me that you have a sophisticated tongue, capable of handling whatever I decide to offer up for this test?”

He reached out, his hand covering hers. “I think my tongue and I can handle whatever you’re willing to dish out.”

Her dark eyes widened with surprise, then darkened with pleasure. “All right then. How about tonight?” She handed over his change. “I can meet you at Pascal’s, and we can see what happens.”

He took his time taking the money, fingers stroking her palm. “I’ll meet you there at seven. Should I bring my copy?”

“Your copy of what?”

“The Perfumed Garden. It’s more than archaic descriptions and colorful language, you know.”

She blinked at him. “Are you for real?”

“You’ll find out soon enough, right? See you later.”

As Sullivan strolled out of the café, he heard one of the women mutter, “Damn. Anybody got some tequila?”

TWO

“I’m so freakin’ nervous!”

Nadia stood in the center of her bedroom in the two-story condo she owned above the café. It had seemed like a great idea at the time, since she had basically lived and breathed her job for the last three years, getting up early to prepare baked goods for the breakfast rush. Now she wondered about the logistics of having a lover over for sexy-times while her employees worked below.

Of course, she had to get to the sexy-times part first.

Five minutes after Sullivan had left the café, Nadia’s friends had taken her in hand, determined to get her ready for her date. Other than her new haircut, Nadia hadn’t done much beyond the basics with her appearance—when you spent every day elbow-deep in dough, manicures were an unnecessary extravagance. It was also woefully apparent that, besides a few outfits she cycled through when hanging out with her friends, she had nothing to wear on a date and certainly nothing she could wear to upscale Pascal’s. Siobhan had sprung into action, taking charge and smoothing the way as she had since the day they’d met in rehab. At thirty-five, Siobhan had the body of a buxom twenty-five-year-old, and her golden blonde hair, creamy fair skin, and cornflower blue eyes made students and businessmen alike stop dead in their tracks when she worked the front of the café. Her looks also made her extremely popular when she performed as “Sugar” Malloy with her burlesque troupe. She was truly the sugar to Nadia’s brunette, brown-eyed, peachy-skinned spice.

“You have a right to be nervous,” Siobhan told her, laying three different dresses out on the bed. “It’s your first date in more than four years. Take it from me, though. I don’t think you have anything to worry about with Professor Sex, except for deciding which dress to wear.”

Nadia surveyed her choices, all borrowed from Siobhan and Vanessa. Nothing in her closet was even close to their impeccable taste since she’d jettisoned or sold off everything related to her time in LA in the equivalent of a bridge burning to ensure no ties remained to her previous life. The first option was a retro red polka dot sundress with a sweetheart neckline and a full skirt possessing a definite rockabilly vibe, totally Siobhan’s style. The second dress was a sleeveless, formfitting knee-skimming number in black sure to emphasize every curve and roll from her boobs to her butt but perfectly suited for Vanessa’s svelte figure. The third dress was a teal number with thin braided straps and a plunging neckline that led to a fitted waist before softly draping into a just-above-the-knee skirt. It was simple but pretty, and was sure to complement the warm golden tones of her skin. Nadia liked it the best, but she was afraid it would make her look like she was going to prom instead of on a feeler date for a lover.

Then again, the combination of innocent dress and salacious intent seemed appropriate. “The red would be great if we were going to see one of your burlesque shows, so I’m crossing that one off the list,” Nadia said, thinking out loud. “And the black is just too intimidating. I’m a little too soft in the middle to do it justice and I’m not putting on Spanx when there’s a possibility of getting some tonight.”

“The teal it is, then.” Siobhan slipped it off the hanger, then helped Nadia into it. After adjusting the choker-style collar, Siobhan stood back and observed her. “The good professor is going to lose his mind.”

Nadia stared at her reflection and had to agree. The dress was slightly loose in the bodice but actually emphasized the curve of her bust and made her waist seem smaller. Siobhan had done some makeup magic on her too, making Nadia’s eyes dark and smoky. She looked confident, sexy, ready for anything.

“I owe you big-time, Sugar. If this goes well, I might even let you take me shopping.”

“I get to drag you shopping?” Her partner grinned. “The professor better deliver or we’re going to have words. Got condoms?”

Nadia picked up her clutch. “Yep.”

“Got cash and credit?”

“That too.”

“Got your phone and driver’s license in case the sex is so good you forget your name and where you live?”

Nadia laughed. “If all goes well, we’re coming back here. The good professor already knows where I live and work, and besides, there’s nothing like home-field advantage. I’m in control here.” She’d need that control too. At least until Professor Sex proved he was worth losing control to.

—

Nadia handed her MINI Cooper off to the valet then headed up the steps to Pascal’s entrance, trying to quell the nervous fluttering in her stomach. She’d picked the nouveau cuisine eatery to meet the professor because she’d heard it had a live band, good tapas, and better cocktails, and the only college-age people were the waitstaff. If this initial sortie with the professor went well, she wouldn’t want to fill up on dinner. And if it didn’t go well, a chocolate martini beat a pint of rocky road ice cream any day.

She still had her doubts about Professor Kaname Sullivan being the one she needed. The double entendres had been fun, but could the man follow through? Would he even show up?

The restaurant’s glass door swung open. She thanked the hostess, and then looked up, stopping dead in the doorway.

Damn. The professor sure cleaned up well. Gleaming dress shoes, loose black trousers and jacket, and a cobalt blue dress shirt showed off his lanky physique and golden skin to perfection. The ambient light caused strands of his dark hair to gleam, making her want to thrust her hands deep into the thick waves. The glasses gave him a Superman double whammy of geeky-sexy but did nothing to blunt the heat in his gaze. Tonight the goatee made him devilish, or maybe that had more to do with the knowing, sensual twist of his lips.

This was not the professor. This was a dangerous man.

“Nadia.” He took her hand then kissed her cheek in greeting as if they were old friends and not potential lovers. Then he stepped back, and the toe-to-head perusal left no doubt in Nadia’s mind that he liked what he saw. “You look amazing.”

She smoothed a hand down the silk skirt. She’d lived in jeans and sneakers for years getting the café off the ground, and being in a dress this nice after so long was hard. Seeing Sullivan’s reaction made her glad she’d gone through the effort of prettying up and slipping into something a little more upscale.

And with the right incentive, she could slip right out of it too.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Nadia,” he said after a long moment. “In this dress or those fantastic jeans you were in earlier.”

She felt her brow wrinkle. “You thought my jeans were better than this dress?”

“Don’t get me wrong. You’re breathtaking in that dress. But those jeans . . . When you bent over to pick up my change, I just about lost my mind. Lucky for me, my jacket covered most of my reaction.”

“Thank you. That’s good to know since my wardrobe is just about all jeans.” Most of his reaction? She’d wanted to check out his junk back at the café, but couldn’t figure out a way to do it that wouldn’t have been obvious.

His grin told her that he knew exactly what she was thinking. “You live in a town sitting by the ocean. You can’t tell me you don’t own a swimsuit or two.”

She laughed. “That’s a requirement of living here, isn’t it? Beachwear, boards, and blonde highlights?”

He gestured to his dark waves. “Two out of three ain’t bad.”

The hostess smiled at them. “Your table’s ready. If you’ll follow me, please?”

“Shall we?” Kane’s hand settled on the small of her back then froze as he realized there was nothing but bare skin beneath his fingers. His fingertips did a slow glide down her spine before settling just above her waist, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Her girly parts went all giddy from the contact, her breath catching at the stroke of his thumb along her spine. A good girl would have pulled away. She pressed into his hand instead.

The hostess guided them to an intimate table tucked into a quiet corner of the restaurant away from the jazz ensemble. Kane seated her like a proper gentleman, and then took his time taking his chair. Don’t look, girl, don’t look—okay, maybe just a peek. She brushed an imaginary wisp of hair out of her eyes as she surreptitiously scoped out his package. Damn loose-fitting slacks.

“Do I pass inspection?” he asked, shooting another grin her way.

“So far, so good.” She looked around the restaurant, needing a distraction from his mesmerizing gaze. Pascal’s had an Old World vibe, wine-colored brocade and dark wood, tiny jewel-toned oil lamps on the tables, rich burgundy tablecloths. “Do you get out to the beach often?”

“Not as much as I’d like to, but my condo has a decent view of the bay. With the right incentive—say, seeing a certain brunette playing volleyball in a bikini—I’d make more of an effort.”

Nadia laughed, relaxing. “If you’re challenging me to a game of volleyball, I accept.”

Their waiter arrived and recited the night’s specials. Nadia ordered a pomegranate martini, Sullivan a glass of red wine. As the waiter left, Sullivan raised an eyebrow at her. “So if I win our game of volleyball, what do I get?”

Nadia held up a hand. “Slow your roll, Professor. It’s still too cool out on the bay for volleyball on the beach, especially if you want me to play in a bikini. Besides, I’d have an unfair advantage over you, since you’d be too busy staring at my high beams to hit the ball.”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm. “True enough, especially considering the heavenly nature of said high beams.” He reached over, claspe