by Dani Wyatt
She’s mine. I just need her to catch up.
“You look amazing Blossom.” I hand her the cup of coffee and lean down and take her mouth, slipping my tongue across her glossy pink lips and feeling my dick twitching under my zipper.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” She blushes, and the hint of uncertainty in her eyes makes me want to steal her away and prove to her how real this is for me.
“So, I’ll drop you at work. What time do you get off?”
“I work until two. But then I should come back here and work some more. I hit my deadline last night, but when you’re an independent author, there are no days off. There’s always work to do.”
I feel pride swelling in my chest. “That makes me happy. You seem like you like what you do.”
“I do. It’s a lot of work, and it’s a job. You have to get up and do the work every day. It’s hard, but I’m lucky to make my living doing something I love.”
I step to open the door and help her up into the cab of the truck, watching her amazing ass as she does. As we drive to the bakery, she drinks her coffee, and I push the cakes and fruit in her direction. That’s another thing I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer on. She needs to eat, and I intend to make sure she does.
The bakery is only five minutes from her apartment, and I already staked it out on my way here, making sure I know it’s safe and where the exits are. When I stop the truck behind the building, I’m aching from head to toe, wanting her again, but even though we’re early, there’s not enough time to do everything that’s on my mind.
“How do you feel?” I look over and place a hand on her warm cheek.
“About what?” She gives me a confused look.
“About last night. About this.” I nod at her then back at me. “I mean, last night was pretty intense. It happened fast. I want to know you’re okay. I want to know how you’re feeling about it all.”
“Well…” She smiles and tugs her knees together. “I’ll admit it was fast. I’ve never done anything like that before. I barely even kissed on a first date.”
“Good.” I bark out fast, then take a breath trying to calm myself. Any thought of her with anyone else—kissing or fucking doing anything else—puts me immediately on edge. “What else? Anything else you want to tell me about how you’re feeling? Because I want you to know I’m interested. In everything. All of you. This is strange, I’ll admit that, but Jessie, I’m all in. I want you to know that.”
She nods and takes a sip of her coffee. “I’ll admit, it’s hard to look at you and think you aren’t some sort of player. I mean, maybe it’s your schtick, taking girls up to your little garden and wooing them with your orchid story. I don’t know, right? You could just be very good at what you do.”
“I am very good at what I do.” I chuckle. “When it comes to my work. But what happened last night? I’m good at that because it felt right. I was telling you the truth when I said I’d never had anyone up there either to see the flowers and I’ve never had a woman in my apartment either. Pretty much, I work, work out, take care of the plants, sit in the bar a couple nights a week talking with guys I work with, I read, and I sleep. I know it probably sounds boring to you, but my work provides more than enough excitement. I like the rest of my life quiet and under control.”
I glance at the clock on the radio and see it’s 8:15. I want more time, but it’s important for her to fulfill her obligations, and I never want to be in the way of that. Besides, I’ve got a shit ton of work waiting for me today as well.
I’ve got a lead on a guy we’ve been trying to pin down for a couple of months. Tips from some informants on a guy who’d been using girls to move his product. Half my caseload is drug-related and I’ve got a good nose for sniffing out good leads, and this one feels legit to me.
“Well, I’m good at what I do, too.” She giggles. “I’m a decent writer, but I’m also a great baker. I’ve got a knack for doing decorative icing on cakes and things, and I have a custom basket weave cake to do today. It’s not as important as what you do—”
I cut her off. “Everything you do is important.” I move my hand around the back of her neck and squeeze slightly. “Everything.” I nod, and she smiles back.
“Well, I better go…”
“Yes. I don’t want you to be late. Tonight, I’ll pick you up at your place at six, okay? I have some work to do myself until then.”
I hop out of the truck, scramble around to open her door and help her down.
“Kiss me, then get to work,” I say, and my heart skips a beat when she pushes up on her tiptoes, and her lips meet mine.
At the precinct, I get to my desk and scroll through my emails, playing catch up with a few investigations I have going on.
My thoughts keep drifting to Jessie, and by ten o’clock I’m half out of my mind. No way I’m going to make it to six o’clock. This job is hard. I see the worst in humanity, but somehow today, just the thought of her makes things easier.
And parts of me harder because I’m not with her.
“Hey. I hear rumblings.” Gerald comes around the front of my desk and plops down in the worn wooden chair, and I hear it squeak under his weight.
“Oh yeah?” I answer, distracted, looking down at my phone and shooting Jessie a quick text, telling her that she’s on my mind and I’d love to see a picture of her smiling face.
“Yep. You’re on the short list.”
“That’s great,” I answer, staring at my screen, already waiting for her reply.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been waiting for any news on the promotion for weeks. Now I’m here giving you good, solid intel and you act like I’m reading you a grocery list.”
“Sorry.” I shake my head and put the phone down. “Just have stuff on my mind.”
“Uh huh.” Gerald takes a drink from his white coffee mug. “This stuff have anything to do with that blonde from the bar last night? You get a taste of something you can’t shake?”
“Careful,” I grunt, surprised at my reaction. “Don’t disrespect her,” I add, making sure my message is loud and clear.
“Well, well.” Gerald chuckles. “Seems your long dry spell may be over. I’m happy for you, man. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to get back in the game.”
“Not a game,” I reply. “And thanks for the info. I appreciate it.”
“Sure. If I was betting, I’m betting you’re the front runner for the promotion. You deserve it, man. You outwork most of the rest of us schmucks put together.”
“Well, that may or may not be true. But I’ve got to get on this case. This guy has girls all over the city delivering for him but none of them will ID him. Why would they do his dirty work? I don’t get it. They get pinched, and he’s sitting somewhere fat and happy.”
“Love can make you do strange things.” Gerald raises an eyebrow at me, and I shake my head.
Chapter 7
Jessie
“What the message say this time?” Helga’s concern fills her voice.
“Yes, what’s he saying?”
Helga and Heather are both looking over my shoulder at my laptop.
We are in the back room at the bakery. I’m on my author Facebook page and just got three very disturbing messages from a guy without a profile picture or anything public to see on his profile.
“He said I’ll see you soon. Then, he said ‘Paybacks.’ That’s it.”
“That’s enough.” Helga huffs, spinning around and running her hands down the front of her white apron, which is pulling tight over her belly. “You call the Facebook and tell them someone bothering you.”
I pinch my lips together. “It doesn’t work like that, Helga.”
“Well, it should. Back where I come from, we protect women. Facebook not protecting you, you leave Facebook.” Helga waves her hands in the air and stomps to the front of the bakery when the bells on the door chime.
She’s already apologized for setting me up with Derek
, and I know she meant no harm. Come to find out, he’d only come in here once, but in her eagerness to get me married off, she’d talked me up, told him I was an author, showed him my picture and admitted she was even a little surprised when he’d so quickly agreed to go out with me. She’d not used the best judgment, and I know it’s embarrassed her, so she’s being extra protective about everything now.
I gave her a general rundown of what happened with Derek but left out the fact that he slid his hand up my leg and called me a cunt. I’m afraid if she knew that and saw him again, she’d knock out his front teeth with one punch.
Heather rolls her eyes at me then tips her head toward where Helga went through the door to the front of the bakery. “She doesn’t quite get the whole Facebook experience.”
“No, she doesn’t. I’d block him, but I’d rather know what’s coming, you know? I’m sure it’s nothing, I’ve had creeps’ message me before. Seems you write some good sex and they think you’re ready, willing, and able for anyone that makes an offer…but still.” I answer absently, unsure if the feeling of discomfort is coming from the messages on Facebook or the fact that every thought I have is filled with Torin.
Heather came in for coffee and a donut as she does a couple of times a week. She sat and watched me decorate the cake while I gave her the rundown of what happened last night—minus the fact that I ended up having sex with a guy I just met. I told her I met him, spent time with him, just left out the sticky bits because the truth is, there’s still a part of me that is scared that’s all I was to him.
The sticky bits.
“So, he drove you to work.” She rubs her nose and takes a drink of her coffee. “That’s promising.” There’s a hopeful look in her eyes, and it makes me wonder why the two women in my life want nothing more than for me to find a man. I think I’m doing just fine without one, but I’ll admit after last night with Torin, there are some perks I’ve been missing.
“Yup,” I answer. “And I guess we are going out tonight again. Six o’clock.” I look at the clock on the wall for the millionth time today. It’s one thirty, and I’m ready to jump out of my skin.
No way am I going to make it until six o’clock.
As if on cue, Helga comes into the back room with a broad smile on her face.
“You have customer.” She tips her head at the doorway. “He wants you to wait on him.”
My belly flutters as I lean over and see Torin standing at the counter looking back at me.
“God,” I manage, standing and facing Heather. “Do I have anything on my face?”
I brush my fingertips over my cheeks.
“Just the glow of budding love,” Heather jokes, but I don’t find it funny.
“Seriously.” I take a deep breath and clear my throat, hoping I have a voice left.
When I get out to the counter, Torin is leaning forward, arms locked on the edge, staring me down.
“I’m sorry,” he starts. “I couldn’t wait. Six o’clock was too long. I probably shouldn’t tell you that, but I want you to know what’s going on in my head, baby. And vice versa, so don’t ever be afraid to tell me anything. Okay?”
“Okay.” I bite into my bottom lip and urge my legs to carry me the last few steps forward to the counter. “So, did you want something?”
I look down at the bakery case.
“Yeah, I want something,” he answers, and I’m dizzy looking into eyes that look like they are fucking me in his mind.
“What are you thinking about?” I choose my words carefully.
He leans farther over, closer, so only I can hear.
“I’m thinking about how your pussy leaked all over my face. How I can still taste you. Smell you. You’re driving me crazy, baby.”
Wetness immediately drenches my panties, and my ovaries twitch. The fact that we didn’t use anything last night is still on my mind and all the ‘what ifs’ race around in my brain.
“Sorry?” I reply as Torin stands and shoves his hands down in the front pockets of his jeans.
Today he’s wearing a light blue button down, untucked, arms rolled up, and I stare as he runs his tongue over his front teeth.
“I’m just going to sit here and wait for you. Do your work, take your time, but I’ll be right here. When you get off your shift, I’ll take you home. If you have work to do, I’ll sit there and watch you until you’re done. I can’t concentrate, baby, so you’re stuck with me I’m afraid.”
“You go.” Helga comes out of the back room, pointing first at Torin, then at me. “Nothing more for her to do here,” she says to Torin, and he looks back at the stout, Russian woman with a twinkle in his eye. “Go. Get out. I don’t want you here, cluttering up the place.” Another wave of her hand and I shake my head.
“Sorry, she has a way—” I apologize, but Torin shakes his head, pulling his lips together with a shrug.
“It’s okay. I like her. I can tell she cares about you, so she’s okay in my book.”
I retreat into the back room and strip off my apron, hang it up grabbing my purse, looking over to see Heather alternating between glances at Torin and me.
“Jesus,” she whimpers, rolling her eyes again. “He’s perfection. A volcano of testosterone and a bucket of yummy.”
“Stop,” I whisper.
“Have fun. Call or text me in a bit if you need me.” Heather adds as I force my feet forward and wonder just exactly what today will hold. “But I hope you don’t need me.”
As I come out and around the counter, Torin slides his fingers into mine. “You hungry?”
I shake my head. “No. Helga always brings food for me. She thinks it’s one of her many jobs not just to employ me but to feed me, manage my social life, protect me from all threats foreign and domestic…”
Torin squeezes my hand while pushing the door open with the other. “Well, I appreciate her effort Blossom. But I’m afraid those duties are going to be taken over by someone new.”
He winks and flashes me that smile, and I think how sexy a chipped tooth can be.
Chapter 8
Torin
“I thought you had work today?” Jessie asks as I lead her down the sidewalk outside the bakery, my hand on the center of her back and giving a death glare to a dude who eyes her tits as he walks by.
I can see that is going to be an issue. Fuck yes, her rack is epic, but it’s for my eyes only, and it may just become my full-time job keeping jokers’ eyes off what’s mine. The way she’s paired the red dress with the jean jacket and a floral pair of Doc Marten’s she reminds me of my orchids. She’s soft, delicate but tough and unique.
“I did. Got a lot done. Couldn’t stop thinking about you, so it was a futile effort. I might have to go back in later, I have a few things hanging out in the wind, but I needed to spend some time with you first.”
“So where are we going?”
“Well, if you were hungry, I was going to feed you, but since you’re not, I’d like to take you to my work, just show you around then I think I’ll take you back home. I know you said you have some more work to do…”
We’re at my truck. I open the door, and she looks up at me, confused.
“Home?”
“Yeah. My place. Home.” The way I say it hopefully gives her the idea I want her to think of it as her home too.
“Well, yes, I have a few work things to do. I brought my laptop though. I can work from anywhere with Wi-Fi.”
I love the smile that curves her full lips, and there’s a pulsing ache when I think of the way her mouth would feel wrapped around my cock.
“Then we’re good. Because not getting your work done could be grounds for punishment.”
Her eyes reflect the surprise I feel when I hear myself say that.
There’s something about this girl. She’s changing me deep down at a molecular level. I want to protect her, nurture her, care for her in a nearly paternal way, but also fuck her like the filthy, beautiful woman she is.
I think about
the bar and building where I live. I’ve enjoyed renovating and living in that industrial sort of space downtown, but for the first time in my adult life, my mind drifts to the house where I grew up.
It’s an old farm that’s been in my family for three generations. My mom loved horses, and I grew up around them, but once I got the job on the force, I needed to live in the city. So, I bought a house, then sold it when the bar opportunity came up. It’s not that the money was the issue, I could have invested without selling but managing more places didn’t appeal to me.
But I still own the farm. I head out there about once every two weeks just to be sure the place hasn’t burned down, or someone’s decided it’s been empty long enough they are going to move in. Last night and this morning, I made some arrangements for some work to start. Something just told me it was time the old neglected beauty needed to come back to life.
When I closed my eyes for a few minutes last night in between texts with Jessie, it was the farm I saw. It was bright and fresh again. A garden overflowed out back, and the front beds and porch of the house were full of pink and purple flowers.
Dogs ran in the yard. There were horses out in the back pastures running in the spring wind.
And, Jessie was there on the porch. Wearing an apron and balancing a baby on her hip.
“Then that’s the plan. I want to show you a bit of my world, introduce you to some of my friends and co-workers, then back home and you can work if you need to and maybe by then, you’ll be hungry, and I’ll cook for you.”
“You can cook too? Wow.”
I give her an assist up into the truck. As the fabric of her dress raises, I see the flash of soft pink panties between her legs and the things I want to do to her would get us both arrested.
“I’m just me. And I hope like hell that works for you. If not,” I pause, wondering for a moment what I would do if she pushed me away. “Never mind. I’m going to do everything in my power to be sure it works for you.”
I get her secured in the seat and walk around and get in behind the wheel, starting up the truck.