Make It Sweet QUOTES

1 " Mamie liked a wide selection of treats, so there were assorted macarons, a plate of butter cookies half dipped in bittersweet ganache, candied-orange-and-cardamom cakes, and, my personal favorite, a paris-brest with praline cream and raspberries. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

2 " His eyes, pale as the glowing pool, pinned me to the spot. So much heat in them. Heat and need and a shadow of frustration, as though he didn't want to want me. His voice lowered, thick as hot cream. "Em, if you're naked in front of me, there's going to be touching."
Yes, please. Now would be good.
"Pretty presumptuous of you, honey pie."
Lucian, the rat bastard, smiled, those hot eyes intent on my face. "Who said it had to be you I'm touching?"
"What?" I could barely think. His nearness was making me light headed.
"I'm not above taking matters into my own hand, if that's the only option."
I pictured him handling all that... girth. The bottom dropped out of me.
"Oh, well played----"
Water ripped, and he was there, big body surrounding me, his mouth inches from mine. "To be clear," he murmured, "if you're naked in front of me, I'd rather touch you."
He was so close, vividly present. Deliciously beautiful. My lids lowered, my lips parting with the need to feel his. I wanted. I wanted.
Our legs brushed under the water, and a shiver danced up my thighs. Lucian grabbed the edge of the pool to brace himself, his arms bracketing me, which made it worse. Water droplets glinted on the dips and swells along his shoulders and arms, drawing my attention to the sheer strength of his body and how good it would feel to touch him. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

3 " Lucian groaned, the sound almost animal. I arched my back in response, pulled by his need, my bared breast coming closer to the wall of his chest. I wanted to feel his skin on mine.
But he didn't move. He gripped the edge tighter, his body working with heaving pants. "Fuck," he whispered. His pale gaze flicked to mine, a furrow knitting between his brows. "I want a taste. Please. God. Please, Em."
That he was undone nearly had me sliding under the water. But the need in his eyes made me whimper. Lids heavy with desire, I nodded, and he swallowed hard, his expression becoming fierce.
"Just a taste," he said, as if to hold himself to that. I whimpered, and his hot gaze snared with mine. Something passed over his expression----determination, reassurance, I couldn't tell; lust and need had scattered all rational thought. "Just a taste," he said again.
"Take it," I whimpered, barely able to form the words.
Lucian let out a breath, his mouth moving closer. "Fuck. Em... lift that sweetness up for me."
My breath left in a swoosh, everything squeezing with a lovely tightness. With a shaking hand, I cupped my breast and lifted it out of the water. Offering myself to him.
On a groan, he ducked his head. The hot, wet flat of his tongue dragged over my cold flesh. I let out a cry, a bolt of pleasure punching to my core.
He made a sound of pure hunger, his lips gently kissing the tip before he sucked it deep... "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

4 " Breakfast included delicate palm-size apple turnovers, something I would ordinarily pass on, given that the ones I'd had in the past had been too sweet and cloying. But I knew from experience that the food here should not be ignored.
The first bite of turnover was my undoing. The pastry was not heavy or greasy but light and flakey, golden layers that shattered at the first bite, then melted on the tongue. The filling consisted of sliced apples cooked until just tender, their tartly sweet juice a perfect complement to the richness of the crust. Heaven. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

5 " Along with French press coffee and fresh rich cream, there was a pot of thick honey yogurt, a plate of glistening fruits---melon, honeydew, and cherries---a small jar of strawberry jam, and sweetly scented rolls.
"Pain aux raisins "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

6 " Were men's knees supposed to be sexy? Their calves? One sight of Lucian's bony knee, delineated muscled thigh, and hard calf, lightly dusted with dark curling hair, made me want to reach out and stroke his leg, creep my hand under those shorts to cup what I knew would be firm and meaty and... damn.
Keeping my hands to myself and my mind out of his pants was going to be difficult. Which was weird; I loved men and sex, but I'd never been preoccupied by either. Until him. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

7 " You're operating under the misconception that I owe you anything. I don't."
Definitely touchy.
"And I didn't owe you anything when you asked about Dark Castle. But I told you how I felt anyway."
"That's on you."
We rounded a corner, heading toward the tennis court. I had no idea where he was going; maybe he simply thought he could wear me out and pull away.
"You're right." I stopped on the trail, my arms falling to my sides as I caught my breath. To hell with it. I didn't need to be chasing a man who didn't want to be bothered.
Weirdly, as if compelled, Lucian came to a halt and half turned my way to glare at me from over his wide shoulder. His body remained tense and poised to take flight once more.
"We owe each other nothing," I said, raising my voice enough to be clear over the ten feet that separated us. "But no one lives in a complete void. Your grandmother and Sal walk on eggshells around you."
Oh, but that got him. Red suffused his neck, and he stalked back my way, coming within touching distance. "You know nothing about them. Or me."
"I know enough. They worry about you. They love you."
Lucian's nostrils flared. "I mean it, Emma. I do not do well with guilt trips."
"If you feel guilty, that's on you. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

8 " You're trying to piss me off, aren't you?" I said, tossing back the words he'd used on me during our first meeting.
He grinned wide, the gesture so quick and stunningly beautiful on him made my breath hitch. "It's so easy," he answered, just as I had. "At least make me work for it."
"Don't worry; I will."
That shut him up in a hurry. His nostrils flared, all that smiling lightness sliding into something darker, something with promise. Heat coiled around my thighs, as an insistent thud strummed between them. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

9 " The tip of my finger hooked under the top, and I pulled it slowly to the side, feeling the drag.
Lucian grunted, low and protracted, as though the sound could make me go faster. The reaction in my body was a delicious clenching of my sex. I arched into that sound, my lids fluttering as I tugged the top farther over, stopping right at the edge of my nipple. And he jerked, the water sloshing.
"Em..." The plea came out in a thick rasp. "Baby..."
The muscles along his arms bunched as he gripped the lip of the pool, as though trying to hold himself back. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

10 " That's no secret, honeybee."
"Honeybee?" she repeated, a warning in her voice.
I bit back a grin. "If II'm going to be a honey pie, makes sense you'd be the bee."
The sweep of her brows lowered ominously. "Why? Because I'm after your honey?" She scoffed long and loud, and I had to laugh. If anyone was after honey here, it was me.
"Bees make honey, Em." I nudged her again, hard enough to rock her and make her squeak with a laugh. "And you seem intent upon making me sweet. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

11 " Inside was a caramel-colored tart about the size of my hand. Dark-golden custard had been piped in petal-thick ribbons to look like a flower. Just off to the side, as if touching down for a taste, was a tiny sugar honeybee.
My breath caught and held as my entire focus narrowed down to that bee. Forgoing a fork, I lifted the tart with my bare hands and took a large almost angry bite. And realized a few things. It wasn't a tart; it was a pie. And it wasn't caramel. It was honey.
Smooth floral notes of delicately sweet honey imbued the silky custard. Decadent but light, sweet yet rich. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

12 " Holding my gaze, he unbuttoned his jeans and let them slide to the floor.
Mistake. Huge mistake, ordering him to take those off. God, his thighs. Could you call a man's thick ripped thighs beautiful? I pressed mine together, trying to suppress the desire to straddle one of those lightly furred, powerful thighs and ride it.
Didn't work, though. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

13 " Rolling a crick out of my neck, I got into the truck. And was hit by her scent. Five seconds in the damn vehicle, and the entire thing was imbued with the fragrance of her, rich and sweet, poached pears in crème anglaise. No, do not think of pastry cream. Or licking it. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

14 " God, you feel so good." Lying face to face, our bodies tangled up together as close as we could get, I pumped into Emma's slick heat and groaned. Trembling, I cupped her flushed cheek and kissed her soft mouth. I loved her for hours, nice and slow, every inch of me aching for release, but drawing it out for as long as I could. We'd been at it all night and, now, in the hot sun of the morning.
"Lucian." She rocked me, the tips of her breasts brushing my chest.
Grunting, I reached between us; found her sweet, swollen nipple; and tweaked it. The walls of her sex clenched in response, and she circled her hips on a moan. So fucking good. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

15 " I made you nervous? I was ready to get on my knees, Em."
My heart flipped over in my chest, and I covered the moment by fumbling with the string holding the box closed. It slipped free with a jerk, and the box, designed to open like a flower, revealed its gift.
A gasp escaped me. Nestled in a white cloud of spun sugar was a perfect little sphere-shaped gâteau covered in chocolate so dark and glossy it shone like midnight. But that wasn't what had my mouth falling open in awe.
Resting on the very top of the orb was a pink-and-gold butterfly made of sugar glass. The delicate wings were so fine and thin the light shone through them. It looked so real I half expected it to fly away.
"Lucian..."
"This is how I see you sometimes," he said in a low voice, eyes on the gâteau. "Beautiful and rare, something not to be contained but treasured. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

16 " Bittersweet chocolate so dark and deep it was almost too sharp coated on my tongue. Then I bit into the soft cake, releasing mellow creamy mousse. It wasn't chocolate---perhaps coffee or maybe caramel, the flavor elusive. But the combination of all that dark bitter bite with smooth cream made it something new, rich but not cloying. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

17 " Can you do mango cream in the croquembouche?"
Mangoes must have been a thing with them, because Saint grinned.
"Of course. How about two croquembouches and perhaps glace au beurre noisette to accompany?"
"I think you're my hero," Delilah said with a relieved sigh.
"Dessert hero," Saint corrected, but he was smiling, too, in a reserved way that reminded me too much of myself. "Thanks, man. Seriously."
"It's not a problem."
"What was that last bit you mentioned?" Emma asked, looking a little glazed in the eyes. The woman really did love her desserts.
"Browned-butter ice cream. I'll be serving it more as a semifreddo, though, considering the time."
"Lord save me." She fanned herself. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

18 " SOME PASTRY TERMS

Chef de pâtissier: pastry chef
Gâteau: rich, elaborate sponge cake that can be molded into shapes, typically containing layers of crème, fruit, or nuts
Pâtisserie(s): pastry/pastries
Brioche(s): a soft, rich bread with a high egg and butter content
Pain aux raisins: a flaky pastry filled with raisins and custard
Chaussons aux pommes: French apple turnovers
Pâte à choux: a light, buttery puff pastry dough
Éclair: oblong desserts made of choux pastry filled with cream and topped with icing (often chocolate)
Tarte au citron: lemon tart
Macaron: a meringue-based confectionary sandwich filled with various flavored ganache, creams, or jams
Croquembouche: a cone-shaped tower of confection created out of caramel-dipped, cream-filled pastry puffs and swathed in spun sugar threads, often served at French weddings or on special occasions
Saint-Honoré: a dessert named for the patron saint of bakers and pastry chefs
Pâte feuilletée: a light, flaky puff pastry
Vanilla crème pâtissière: vanilla pastry cream
Hazelnut crème chiboust: a pastry cream lightened with Italian meringue
Paris-brest: a wheel-shaped dessert made of pâte à choux and filled with praline cream. Created in 1910 by chef Louis Durand to commemorate the Paris-Brest, a bicycle race. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

19 " Closing my eyes, I concentrated on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. I could do this. This was easy. A cakewalk. What the fuck did cakewalk even mean?
The thought clung to the edges of my mind like buttercream, and I focused on that instead. Of cakes and creams, gâteaux and tartes au citron. And slowly my racing heart slowed to an acceptable pace. After agonizing minutes, I could breathe without struggle. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet

20 " I was proud of Lucian. That much was certain. He'd come through today in a big way, creating not only two towers of croquembouche, swathed in glittering strands of angel-fine spun sugar, but also luscious ice creams paired with delicate butter cookies and mangoes to look like blooming lilies. "

― Kristen Callihan , Make It Sweet