Happy holidays, everyone! I’m thrilled to join Josee in her Delicious December give-away. As well as providing one of my “favorite” holiday recipes, I’m giving away a digital copy of Tea for Three, my first erotica short story from the Ellora’s Cave Ekotika line—your choice of a PDF, .prc or .epub download. In case you can’t guess from the title, the story is a super-hot ménage. It takes place in a Vancouver tea shop. Believe me, you’ll never look at a tea shop the same way again.
But, first, the holiday recipe. Let’s get one thing out of the way. I’m not a cook. I hate cooking. But every once in while I’m forced to host Christmas, and the years I’m not hosting I usually get asked to contribute a dish. My mother, bless her heart, always asks me to contribute a sweet potato or mashed yam casserole, even though she knows I can’t abide sweet potatoes or yams. I think she’s trying to trip me up, because she’s an incredible cook and by asking me to make a dish I don’t normally eat, she’s setting me up for failure. She claims it’s because she doesn’t have the oven space for the turkey and a casserole. Honestly, Mom, whatever!
So I’m offering two versions of Maple-Sweet Potatoes. The first is my mother’s recipe. The second is my attempt to create a dish I can actually stomach for a mouthful or two.
Maple-Sweet Potatoes – Kate’s Mom’s Recipe
– Around 8 sweet potatoes
– ¼ cup butter
– ½ packed brown sugar
– ½ cup maple syrup
– ¼ tsp. salt
– ½ cup pecan pieces
Boil potatoes in skins until tender. Cool. Peel and cut into slices. Combine butter, sugar, syrup, and salt in saucepan. Heat to boiling, then lower heat and cook, stirring constantly until clear and bubbly. Turn potatoes into baking dish. Top with pecans and syrup. Bake at 350 F. until bubbly.
Don’t ask me where the pepper comes in. This is an example of how my mother tries to trip me up. If you like sweet potatoes, I’m sure you’ll know what to do with the pepper. I haven’t made this casserole in a year, so, honestly, I can’t remember what I did about the pepper. I do know what I’ve done with the brown sugar sauce and pecans the two times I have made this recipe—I doubled them! And no one’s ever complained. So if you can’t abide sweet potatoes and want to cover the taste as much as possible, or if you have a sweet tooth, or you just adore pecans, here is….
Kate’s Maple-Sweet Potatoes
– Around 8 sweet potatoes (note, same amount of potatoes as first recipe)
– ½ cup butter (double the amount)
– 1 cup packed brown sugar (double the amount)
– 1 cup maple syrup (double the amount)
– ¼ tsp. salt (because who needs more salt?)
– pepper (only Rudolph knows what I do with this)
– minimum 1 cup pecan pieces (more if you want)
The rest of the recipe remains the same. At last, a sweet potato recipe even I can bear. Enjoy!
Tea for Three excerpt:
Gil had left her alone with his best friend after fondling her in full view of the man. What she did in his absence would set the tone for their Friday evening.
Did she want Hunter?
Was she freaked out?
She’d yet to participate in a ménage—if that was what Gil had in mind. Tonight, with Hunter’s seductive gaze ensnaring her, the idea appealed big time. However, Layla’s sexual gratification wasn’t the only thing on the line. Gil’s needs counted too. Would she put their relationship in jeopardy by starting something with Hunter?
Would Gil have arranged for his friend to be here if he didn’t want a threesome?
What had he said? “I want us alone.”
Did “us” include Hunter?
She needed to find out.
Heart racing, she called, “I’ll be in the stock room.”
Hunter nodded. Serious, intense. Damn sexy.
“If you need me, shout,” he said.
There was that need word again. Layla escaped through the archway into the narrow stockroom separating Tease from her living quarters. Out of Hunter’s view, she lifted her short black skirt and whipped off her red thong. Gil had practically blared through a megaphone that he wanted her to instigate tonight. If she didn’t act, the ménage wouldn’t happen. It was her choice—a powerful aphrodisiac.
She undid the first four buttons of her sleeveless top. Satisfied she’d revealed a good portion of her bra, she climbed the stepladder and stretched on tiptoe in her spiky sandals.
Her skirt rode up, exposing the bare contours of her ass. Air kissed her hot opening, and her Brazilian-waxed flesh buzzed.
“Hunter?” she called. “Could you come in here? I can’t reach the top shelf.”
Her nipples strained against her satin bra. If Gil didn’t want this, she could lose him.
Please want this.
Hunter’s heavy-soled boots echoed on hardwood. Sensing him entering the tiny room, Layla reached for a box. Her skirt hiked up, baring her ass.
“I can’t stretch high enough.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Can you give me a hand?” If her intentions weren’t clear, she’d die.
His gaze drilled into her. “Fuck.”
That was the idea. “Hunter?”
He stepped behind the ladder, ushering in the clean scent of the rain. Under her raised skirt, he grasped her left hip with his warm hand. “Steady.” His big fingers splayed on her skin, and goose bumps sprouted beneath his touch.
“Gil will return any second,” he muttered, as if requesting permission to proceed.
Murmuring, “I know,” Layla curved her spine and stuck out her ass.
Hunter swore. Anchoring her hip with one hand, he pushed a finger inside her wet pussy. Gasping at the rush of pleasure, she contracted her inner muscles and squeezed tight.
His breath heated her ass as his finger slid in and out, gliding up with every stroke to graze her clit. Layla closed her eyes. In plunged another finger. Shorter but thicker than Gil’s, Hunter’s two fingers felt like a glorious three.
Layla’s head lolled, and she moaned. Hunter worked magic with his incessant stroking. Slow, sweet, and oh…! Was that a little pinch on her ass? Her pussy twitched.
She grasped the shelf tighter as he fingered her faster.
And then faster again.
“Gil was right,” he said against her hip. “You’re incredible.” His gruff voice sounded as thick as his pumping fingers. “Your pussy is so fucking hot and juicy.”
Yes! In and out, in and out. She wanted Gil to return. She didn’t want him to return. She wanted Hunter’s cock inside her, Gil’s cock in her mouth. The images barreled her toward orgasm.
“Easy.” Hunter fingers slipped out of her.
Layla sank against the ladder, limbs mellow. “Please,” she whimpered.
One finger shoved back. “Better?”
She shook her head. “I like two or three.” She didn’t care if ménage etiquette dictated they should wait for Gil. She wanted to come now. How dare Hunter deny her?
“One’s all you get,” he stated grimly.
Familiar footfalls echoed in the adjoining shop. Panic bashed her ribs. What if she’d read Gil wrong? What if he didn’t want the three-way?
She swatted Hunter’s hand. “Pull out.”
His hold on her hip intensified, and he chuckled. “You made your choice, sugar. Now live with the consequences.” His finger sunk in deeper, thumb pressing her clit.
“Layla? Hunter?” Gil’s voice sailed through the archway. “You guys back there?”