by Casey Morgan
“Mason?” she whispered. “Mason, are you there?”
I didn’t reply. What was she doing? She was crazy to come down here. It was obvious that her parents were very strict, and I knew they wouldn’t be happy if they found out what she was up to – whatever that might be.
Slowly Celeste shuffled down the last few stairs, as if trying to keep her steps as quiet as possible. Her parents might not have been able to hear her progress, but I could hear every step she took.
I could also hear her mutter under her breath.
“This is stupid. The poor man is probably asleep. Why am I bothering him?”
Once she reached the ground floor, she navigated the darkened bakery easily. Weaving her way through the tables and chairs, she made a path to my humble bed. I watched her every move with interest.
Her face had flushed earlier that day when she looked at me. I had felt the slight tingle of her interest, but I had put that thought away in my mind—locked it away as something that should never be.
Celeste’s long locks fell into her eyes as she picked up a chair that was left out in the walkway. She lifted the whole thing, as if to avoid the scooting noise of wood on wood. She didn’t see me watching her, yet. But she would soon.
Some said my eyes glowed in the dark. It was a sign of a werewolf. Not wanting to cause her fear, I looked down at the floor as she inched closer. I calmed myself, till I was sure that my inner wolf was at peace and my eyes looked human.
“Mason?” she asked, and then her eyes must have caught the sight of me sitting up.
She jumped back slightly.
“Oh! You are awake…Why didn’t you answer?”
I looked at her silhouette in the moonlight; it was glorious. Her bathrobe was fluffy but not enough to hide her hourglass form. She turned slightly and the moonlight lit up her beautiful face.
“I knew you would see me eventually,” I told her in response.
She nodded slightly and put her hands on the back of a chair. I could tell she wasn’t sure what to do next.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, pointing slightly towards the kitchen.
Not for food, I thought and shook my head.
“I’m fine, Celeste,” I told her. “Why are you down here? Shouldn’t you be getting some rest? Yesterday was a long day and don’t you bakers get up very early?”
She nodded slightly and looked down. There was a hint of a blush on her cheeks.
“I wanted to…”
She pulled at the tie of her bathrobe and let it open slightly, revealing a thin cotton nightdress. My eyes were quickly glued to the material. I could see her full chest rise and fall with her breath.
Her nipples were starting to harden. My cock stirred and ached in response.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” she continued.
She was trying to sound casual, but there was a hitch in her words, as if she was forcing herself to breathe.
“I know that air mattress is old. Sometimes it deflates.”
Moving quickly, she took the last few steps to my make-shift bed and felt the mattress with one hand. She was suddenly so close, and I had to refrain myself from jerking away—or reaching for her.
“See,” Celeste said. “I knew it. That can’t be comfortable.”
She looked into my face; her bottom lip caught in her teeth.
My cock hardened and I had to shift to hide the bulge. This was not good. The girl wanted me. She was trying, in her own innocent way, to seduce me and it was working.
But it was wrong. We had no future together. I was here to help, I reminded myself. Celeste and her sexy body were not on the menu. I could not take her and then leave. I wasn’t that kind of man.
I pulled my legs up against my chest and wound my arms around them, forming a barrier for my cock.
“It’s fine, Celeste,” I told her, trying to sound dismissive. “Please, don’t worry about me and go back to bed.”
She moved closer and sat down in the space that my legs had left. What little air that was in the mattress gasped out in a huff, but neither of us noticed.
Celeste was leaning towards me. Her hands were on the floor, taking her weight, but her face and her kissable lips were moving towards mine. I was frozen, drinking in her every movement.
She darted her little pink tongue out and licked her lips. The wetness made them more apparent in the moonlight and more desirable. They parted just slightly, and I could feel her breath.
“No, really,” she spoke words that really didn’t matter and weren’t what she really wanted to say. “We should re-inflate it. The air mattress. So, you… you can… sleep.”
She leaned towards me, closed the inches at a slow pace, but I couldn’t pull away. My body was being overcome with desire and my dick was rock hard. If I unfroze my muscles, I would grab her and take her roughly.
She deserves better! I screamed to myself in my mind. Don’t touch her!
“Celeste,” I told her again, breathing in her breath. “You’d better go. It’s not safe to be down here with me right now. I can’t… It’s dangerous…”
I grabbed the material of my joggers and clamped my hands down to keep them occupied. Every inch of my body wanted to reach for her. But I couldn’t. I shouldn’t.
Her pouty lips tilted up into a slight smile.
“I think this is just the danger I want,” she whispered and licked her lips again.
She closed the distance between us. Her lips met mine. Soft, slightly wet and fabulously warm, she was the sweetest thing I had ever kissed. Celeste leaned forward more, and her lips pressed more urgently on mine. Our noses rubbed together and our chins did too. Her skin was soft and so smooth.
I closed my eyes and just concentrated on the feel of her warm lips. Her mouth opened slightly, and I slid my tongue inside.
Her breath caught just a little. I massaged her tiny tongue with my own, teasing her to twist it around mine. She caught mine between her cheeks and started to suck. Oh God! It felt so good.
My cock stiffened and swelled against my pants and legs. I lost my grip and put my hands in her hair, pulling her head forward to me. The silky strands wound around my fingers.
Celeste continued to suck my tongue and I pulled her closer. I dropped my knees and her body moved on top of mine. She sat in my lap; her firm, round ass pushed into my cloth covered cock.
She moved slightly, rubbing her ass on my penis until she realized what it was. Then her breath caught more, and she started to tremble slightly. Whether it was with desire or fear, I didn’t know.
No! Even though it felt so good, it was wrong. I couldn’t take advantage of this poor, innocent girl. She didn’t know what she was doing. She was probably a virgin and didn’t realize what she was putting me through.
I brought my hands out of her hair and gently placed them on her shoulders. I pulled back, breaking our kiss, and looked into her eyes. She stared at me, questioning.
“This is wrong,” I breathed. “You deserve better, Celeste. I’m… I’m just a stranger to you.”
I could see the sting of my words on her face; her lips twisted, and her eyes started to tear up. She moved off my lap and knelt.
“But it doesn’t feel wrong,” she told me, frowning. “I want you. Don’t you want me?”
I smoothed the hair from her face and put a few strands behind her ear. I couldn’t lie to her and say I didn’t want her. I did, but I just wasn’t supposed to act on it.
“I need you to go,” I choked out.
She jumped to her feet and stared down at me. Her small hands were in fists and she swung her arms slightly with rage.
“You don’t want me?” she hissed.
I held my hands up, palms open, and tried to calm her.
“You don’t understand, Celeste. I’m just here to do a job. I can’t… I can’t have you. It’s not right.”
She turned quickly and was up the stairs without another word. I was alone again in the moonlight.
&
nbsp; I let out a deep breath and turned back to the windows that lined the front of the shop. Part of me—mostly my dick—told me I had just made a big mistake.
I rubbed at my aching cock and wished that it would go down.
But my heart seemed to have something to say, too.
It was as if it had wanted me to be with Celeste just as much as my dick did.
Or at least it wanted me to have given Celeste a better explanation for why I couldn’t be. That would be impossible, though.
And my heart was not something I could just rub and make go away.
Stupid dick.
Stupid heart.
Stupid me.
Sleep was going to be impossible now.
Chapter Ten
Celeste
I woke up with the taste of Mason’s lips on mine. I couldn’t believe I had kissed him the night before; it was a show of boldness like I had never done before. A show he had turned down.
My cheeks reddened and I pulled a pillow over my face. And I had to go downstairs and see him.
Great.
I had seriously made a mess out of things.
But I knew deep down he had wanted me just as much as I wanted him. He was holding back for some reason. I was determined to find out why.
Still. All Mason was here for was to protect the shop, I told myself. He wasn’t here to kiss me or love me or…take my virginity.
He was a man who was doing a job, a kindness to me and my family. It didn’t matter how he looked with his broad shoulders and big muscles. It didn’t matter how he made me feel. I needed to suppress my attraction and take charge of the bakery.
And that’s what I was going to do. We had orders that were coming in for cookie baskets. And that was what was the priority.
If we had a good Valentine’s Day this year, maybe there would be enough profit to move our shop—if I could convince my father. He had to be open to the idea of leaving this godforsaken place now, after his beating. He just had to.
I pulled the pillow from my face and turned on the light by my bedside. My alarm clock flashed 4:44 am—one minute before it was set to go off. I reached over and turned it off before it could make a sound.
Usually, Mom and Dad were the ones who started baking this early in the morning. But today, they both needed to concentrate on Dad’s health. Everything having to do with running the bakery was up to me.
I dressed quickly and tried not to linger too long on choosing what to wear. Mason wasn’t interested, I kept telling myself.
He’s not looking, so don’t bother to show off.
I wore my tightest pink sweater anyway. It was the only one I owned that showed off how narrow my waist was. I soothed my long jeans skirt over my hips, glanced at myself one more time in the mirror and opened my bedroom door.
I promised myself I would keep my head held high and maintain a professional manner with Mason at all times. This day would go smoothly, even if I had to plaster a smile on my lips.
I tiptoed down the stairs. I figured I could be down and into the kitchen before Mason even woke up. But as I reached the bottom step, I realized that that plan was not to be. He was up and doing pushups—shirtless.
Oh shit!
The lights downstairs weren’t on, but just enough light came in the front windows from the street lights outside for me to be able to see him. That light gave a glow to his creamy skin and showed off the muscles of his back, which rippled with every move—every thrust.
I watched, frozen, as he repeatedly pushed off the floor and then lowered himself down. His biceps bulged and swelled, and he kept his back very straight.
With each set, he would lower himself to the ground slower and slower to increase the resistance on his arms. His groin would barely brush the floor before he snapped back up again. Good God, I wanted to be on the floor underneath him!
Just as a moan threatened to escape my mouth, I clamped my hands over it and ran into the kitchen. The swinging doors swung back and forth behind me. They were loud. If Mason didn’t know I was awake before, he did now.
“Just got to keep it together,” I whispered to myself, as I fixed my pony-tail. “Plenty to do. Plenty to do.”
Besides, Mason would probably stay in the seating area all day so that he could watch the windows. That’s what a good protector would do. He wouldn’t be around me at all.
And Mary had promised to come in early. So, she would be back here with me, talking to me, distracting me, and keeping me from acting like a love-sick fool.
Satisfied with my plan of how the day would go, I gave myself a nod and turned on the lights in the kitchen. I glanced around as I decided what to do first. The kitchen was clean and neat, just as I had left it the night before.
I strolled over to the left side counter and pulled out the largest mixing bowl. It was purple. My parents usually went for plainer things, but this was one I picked out when I was five years old, and they bought it to please me. It was still my favorite.
I swept it and a few other items onto the center island and flipped through the recipes till I found the one I wanted—apple-carrot muffins.
Yuck!
Personally, I liked a good blueberry muffin in the morning, but our customers were getting health conscious and apple-carrot muffins sold well.
I gathered all the necessary ingredients and started pealing the carrots. That was about the time my body got over the shock of being up so early and started demanding breakfast. It was still an hour before we opened, so I figured I had time to make myself some toast, but not regular toast—that was boring. Instead, I was going to make delicious cinnamon-sugar toast.
I flipped on a burner and adjusted the flame to the perfect height, then grabbed one of the cast iron pans. Toast is always better done on the stove.
A slice or two of mom’s whole-wheat bread, which she had made the day before, was just the thing to make it even more scrumptious. I buttered each side, sprinkled it with cinnamon and then sugar and then dropped it in the pan to get nice and crisp.
The door behind me swung open. I didn’t turn. I couldn’t. I just kept making my breakfast and hoping that the person coming up behind me was my mother.
It wasn’t.
“Mornin’.”
I tried to reply, but my voice just wouldn’t work. What came out of my mouth was a weird half croak, that sounded nothing like a greeting. I felt my whole face flush, so I turned quickly and nodded like what I said was comprehensible.
I flipped the two pieces of bread, trying to keep my focus on what I was doing and not on the large, muscular man behind me.
Maybe I should add some more butter?
I moved one of the slices with the spatula to test how soaked it was. It squished just a little.
Nope, the butter content was just perfect.
“Smells wonderful.”
He came closer and peeked over my shoulder. I could feel the heat of his body.
Shit! I gotta feed him. That was part of our agreement.
“I don’t suppose that toast is enough for a big man like you?”
I kept my eyes on the pan, but somehow, I knew he was smiling.
“No, Miss.”
I choked on my own laugh.
“Don’t get so formal. It’s just me. Celeste.”
I reached over and grabbed another pan. Another burner flared to life and I set the new pan down over the heat.
“Go to the fridge and grab the bacon.”
I heard him walk across the room and then I heard the clang of the refrigerator’s door opening.
“And the eggs?” he asked.
The question sounded hopeful.
“And the eggs.”
Bacon, eggs and toast- that was a feast to my parents and me these days, but I told Mason I would feed him, and I planned to keep my word. Another pan went on a different burner and soon I had everything cooking at once.
I glanced at the clock and started mixing the muffins at the same time. They needed to get
in the oven, or our regulars were going to be disappointed.
There was only about three feet between the counters and the middle island. It wasn’t a lot of room, but Mason seemed to try to occupy it anyway.
He stood behind me and looked over my shoulder as I flipped the toast, eggs, and bacon. When I needed to turn back to the muffins I was mixing, I came face to face—or rather face to chest—with him.
“Excuse me?” I tried to say it nicely, but there was a little bit of snark to it.
Mason moved back, but only about a foot. I tried to ignore the heat of his body and the musky, clean smell he had, but it was hard with him right next to me.
I took one of our wooden spoons and started to mix the muffin batter. A tiny bit slopped out and smacked right into Mason’s blue shirt.
“Sorry,” I said on instinct and then wished I hadn’t.
It really was his fault. He was crowding me.
“Not a problem.”
He lifted the t-shirt to his mouth and licked the batter off. The movement gave me a glimpse of his rock-hard abs and the top of his jeans.
Oh God yes!
My pussy quivered. I had to grip the wooden spoon tighter and remind myself to stir.
I will not stare! I will not stare!
“What’s in these?” he asked, pointing to the bowl.
“Carrots, apples, ginger,” I caught myself. I was running out of time and really, just needed him out of the way. He was too distracting. “Look why don’t you just sit down?”
I pointed to the small wooden table at the end of the room by the back door.
“I have tons to do and you’re not helping.”
I flinched at my own words. I had promised myself I would be professional, but now I was starting to sound like the angry girl I was.
“I could help.”
“What?”
I looked up into his dark-brown eyes.
He smiled.
“I can cook some and I follow directions really well— Army trained and all. I just don’t sit and wait well,” he explained. “I’m used to being up and moving. And I figure, with your folks stuck upstairs, maybe you could use an extra pair of hands.”
To emphasize his point, he held up his large, strong hands with the palms facing up. I ran my eyes over his rough, manly palms and his thick fingers. Fingers I wished were in my pussy; fucking me raw.