Baking Lessons

by Katie Allen

  “I considered it.” At his admission, she wanted to scream. Somehow it made it worse that they’d almost had condoms. “Buying them seemed...presumptuous.”

  Knowing that she was equally to blame, she held back the frustrated wail that wanted to escape. She kicked herself for not picking some up. She’d been so preoccupied with Hamilton that the practical aspects hadn’t occurred to her. Also, it had seemed like a fantasy, something that would never come true. Even now, draped over her back like a lead blanket, he didn’t seem real. Why plan for something that would only happen in her best dreams?

  Except it had happened, it was happening, and now, thanks to her lack of confidence, she didn’t get to have Hamilton deep inside her. The thought brought a rush of heat coursing through her even as she wiggled, dropping her hips and turning until she was on her back, facing him.

  In the low light, his features were shadowed, and he looked bigger than usual as he loomed over her. Facing him, she was a little intimidated. He was so imposing, so beautiful and austere, and she was happily average. It was like the peasant girl got the fairy-tale prince, but it didn’t turn out that she was a secret princess. She was still a peasant girl who worked at a bakery, and he was miles and miles out of her league.

  But you’re here, in his bed, peasant girl, she reminded herself. Smiling a little, she tried to roll them over so that Hamilton was on his back, but he resisted with little obvious effort.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. His voice was back to his normal reserved state. Something about the ordinary tidiness of it contrasted with his bulky, mostly naked form above her, and she remembered how, just a few minutes earlier, he’d had his mouth between her legs, and it had been very nice.

  Running her hands up his locked arms to his shoulders, she marveled at the hardness and strength of him. She wanted more. “I’m trying to roll you over, but you’re like a tree—an enormous, not-rolling tree.”

  “Why are you trying to roll me over?” He sounded baffled, as usual, as if he was studying a mysterious new species of bug, but there was a tiny bit of intrigue in his words, as well. That gave Leah the confidence to grin at him while giving him another playful shove.

  “So that I can go down on you, of course,” she said, getting a thrill as he went still and rigid under her touch. “You’re not the only one who wants another taste.”

  “You don’t have to do that again.” He lowered his body toward her, as if he was doing half a push-up, and hovered right above her, so close that she knew her still-excited nipples would brush his chest if she took a deep breath.

  She took a deep breath.

  She was right. As her chest rose, the tips of her breasts touched his furry chest, and he made a hungry sound. Her hands were still on his shoulders, and she slid them lower into his mat of chest hair and scratched lightly.

  “What are you doing now?” he asked as he slowly lowered himself to his forearms.

  “You know, I didn’t expect you to be this hairy.” She tugged gently on a few strands. “Who knew that all of those very proper suits were hiding a sexy bear?” Her questing fingers discovered one of his small, flat nipples, and she pinched it.

  His hips dropped to hers, surging against her as he pressed his forehead on the pillow next to her head. “Is that a good thing?” he asked, the words almost guttural. He still kept the majority of his weight on his forearms, but the space between them had shrunk. She moved her hands to the back of his neck, not wanting anything between them when he finally gave in and pressed their bodies together, from shoulders to thighs.

  “Really good.” The feel of him was making it hard to keep a conversation going. His neck was corded and thick, and his hair was surprisingly soft for how short it was. She ran her nails lightly over his scalp, and he grunted with pleasure, pressing into her touch. “I like all of your hair.” She also liked the muscles underneath and the small, pleased, wordless sounds he made when she touched him in a way he liked. “Now roll over so I can suck you.”

  “Jesus.” His hips pressed tightly to hers, grinding his hardness against her for a breathless moment before he flipped them both over. “Really, though, you don’t have to do this. You went above and beyond in the stairwell earlier, and the lack of condoms was my omission. Therefore—” He interrupted himself with a groan as Leah sat up and scooted back, letting her pussy press against the bulge in his pants for a second. Underneath her, Hamilton’s hips bucked up again.

  “I want to do this,” she said, running her fingers over the slick, tensed washboard that made up his abs and hooking her fingers into the waistband of his athletic pants. Without hesitating, she peeled them down, carefully lifting them to avoid catching his erection, and slipped them down his legs. As she came back up, she let her hands drift over his calves and knees and thighs, loving the small catches of breath that brought out of him. “I think the first blow job gave me a taste for your cock.” His hips surged up in reaction to her words, and Leah gave a satisfied smile before focusing on the business at hand.

  Finally, she was in front of his erection again—and what a nice one it was. Even though she’d had her hand and mouth on it, it was still a treat when it was right in front of her and she could take her time admiring it.

  “It’s so big...and pretty,” she said, and he choked on a laugh.

  “It’s not pretty.” Although he tried to sound offended, she heard the amused—and pleased—note in his voice.

  “You’re right.” Biting her lip to keep in her laughter, she reached out toward the cock in question and took it in a firm grip. “It’s not pretty—it’s beautiful.”

  He groaned, the sound coming out both desperate and amused. “How is my dick in any way beautiful?”

  Running her thumb over the head, she scooted back slightly so she could bend forward. “It’s very symmetrical...and pink.”

  He gave another choked laugh that was bitten off by a curse as she licked the length of it, stroking her tongue up the underside and then prodding the hole at the end. His hips lifted toward her as he hissed out a breath. Sliding her hand down his length, she wrapped her lips around him.

  “LeeLee...” His hands wrapped around her head, and she went still, worried that he’d push her head down before she was ready to take him deeper. As big as he was, getting all of him into her mouth and down her throat earlier had taken some concentrated effort. He didn’t force her, though. One hand cupped the back of her skull, while the other stroked her hair away from her face. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip, skimming across the seam between her mouth and his erection. For some reason, she found that small movement incredibly hot, and she moaned.

  He answered with his own sexy sound and a twist of his hips that drove him deeper into her mouth, pushing toward the back of her throat. His cock felt huge in her mouth, and she struggled to take his girth. He must have seen her eyes go wide, because he started to withdraw, but she ducked her head, keeping her lips tight around him. She’d done it before, and it had been incredible. She’d swallow the whole thing again.

  Although he filled her mouth to capacity, she managed to rub her tongue along the underside of his cock, and his hand on the back of her head tightened, his fingertips digging into her scalp. It wasn’t painful, though. His tight hold, being skewered on his erection, trapped between his huge, hard hands and his groin, aroused her. He had the strength to do whatever he wanted to her, but she trusted him to keep her safe. That threat, though, the knowledge that he could lose control and overpower her, was strangely exciting.

  Flicking an upward glance at his face, she saw he was watching her with narrowed eyes. His face was drawn tight, but not with the same uptight stress as usual. This was pure sexual hunger, and he stared at her as if he couldn’t look away, like she was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

  The intensity of his expression made her even more eager to please him, to make him come so
hard that he’d never be able to give her that chilly look again. She was determined to blow his mind so that he’d get hard every time he even glanced at her.

  She sucked him with renewed vigor, taking him deeper as she swallowed so that her throat muscles would massage the head of his cock. His fingers worked at her scalp, never hurting, but the possibility was always there. Squirming on his thighs, she couldn’t get any friction on her clit, so she shifted over until she only straddled one of his legs. It was a huge relief to grind her pussy against his hard quad, driving her toward her climax. Pulling back until just the tip of his cock was in her mouth, she dropped down, taking him even deeper than before.

  He made a sound that was almost a growl, and his hands tangled in her hair. His leg flexed under her pussy, and she pressed down harder, feeling her orgasm approaching like a semitruck flying down the highway. He took control, pulling back and thrusting forward, driving the full length of his cock into her mouth and down her throat, but his urgency wasn’t scary anymore—it was thrilling.

  A small, hazy part of her brain was shocked that she was okay with his urgent pounding. He was using her mouth like it was her pussy, and it was about to make her come—hard. She’d never allowed a guy to take control of a blow job before, never thought she’d enjoy it, but she was letting Hamilton drive his cock into her throat, and she was okay with that—more than okay. It was the hottest thing she’d ever done in her life.

  He plunged deep just as she ground her clit against his leg, and she exploded. It felt as if sparklers had ignited down her spine, and the pleasure radiated out to the rest of her body. She dragged in deep breaths through her nose as he buried his cock in her throat and came.

  Leah stayed in the same position for a long time, even as the waves of pleasure faded into sleepy lethargy and the cock in her mouth started to soften. Hamilton stroked her head and face, tracing gentle lines from her temple to behind her ear down to her neck. She didn’t want to move.

  Finally, he sat up, his abs flexing, and caught her under the arms. As he lay back, he pulled her with him, so she ended up lying half on him and half on her side next to him. He pulled the covers over their bare bodies and then pulled her tightly against him. She smiled against his chest. Hamilton was the most intense snuggler she’d ever met.

  He cleared his throat. “Thank you for that. It was...excellent.”

  His very Hamilton-esque words, said in his usual stiff way—except for a post-sex growl in his voice that no amount of throat-clearing could extinguish—made her giggle. She pressed her face against him, trying to stop, knowing that no good could come from laughing when a guy thanked her for a quality blow job.

  Sweeping her hair away from her face, he peered at her closely. “Are you laughing?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Fine, I am.” She gave up trying to hide her residual snickers.

  “Why?”

  “Because you just thanked me in a very proper way for letting you fuck my mouth.” Turning her head, she looked at him, and the sight of him made her smile again. This time, it wasn’t amusement that made her lips curl up, though. It was because she was finding that being around him—especially when orgasms were involved—made her happy.

  He looked slightly offended, although it was offset by his mussed sex hair and still-smoldering eyes. “A thank-you isn’t funny. It’s a basic courtesy.”

  “But the way you said it.” Giggles bubbled up again, and she fought them down this time. It didn’t help that she was a bit giddy. She and Hamilton had done stuff—sexy stuff—in an actual bed, and it had been even better than the showers, even better than the stairwell blow job, even better than she’d imagined it could be weeks earlier when he was still in prissy landlord mode. It got hotter every time. Sex with him was going to be amazing. “It was the same way you’d thank your dentist for filling a cavity.”

  His eyes narrowed even more. “No, it was not.”

  “It really, truly was.”

  “I would not be naked if my dentist were involved.”

  That did it. She started laughing again. “Oh, Hammy.” Stretching up, she kissed his chin. “I do like you.” She snuggled back into the curve of his arm, resting her cheek on his chest.

  He was quiet for so long that she started dozing off, lulled by his warmth and the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat. Even though she was half-asleep, the press of his lips on the top of her head made her smile.

  “I like you, too, LeeLee.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  She couldn’t stop feeding him.

  It was better than kissing him, Leah supposed, pulling a sheet pan of dinner rolls out of the oven. It was much better than shoving him up against the freezer and ripping off his pants. Both ideas were tempting. All morning, every time she thought of the night before, and the morning before, and the night before that, she’d been forcing herself to tamp down her lusty thoughts, instead offering him another chocolate almond croissant or a peanut-butter brownie or a pumpkin muffin. It didn’t help her willpower when he accepted every treat with the most tempting, tiniest crook of a smile. Instead of that laser-like hungry look being directed at the pastries, he’d aimed it at her, sending her rushing back into the kitchen so she didn’t start making out with him in front of the customers.

  Her distraction slowed her down, and she wasn’t finished baking until mid-morning. She was grateful that Hamilton had offered to help. If he hadn’t subbed in for Q, she would’ve been rushing back and forth between helping customers and trying to keep everything from burning and doing a piss-poor job of both while basically losing her mind.

  Tossing her flour-covered apron into the to-be-washed bin, she grabbed a clean one and headed to the front. As she tied the strings in the small of her back, she hesitated. There wasn’t much room behind the counter up front, and she and Hamilton would be squeezed together, bumping into each other as they filled orders...

  She gave herself a mental smack. They were adults. They could be in close proximity without giving in to their basest instincts. It was called self-control, and she needed to find some immediately. Taking a bracing breath, she pushed through the swinging doors.

  It was a madhouse. The line stretched to the door and along the wall, and every table was filled. Looking up from the cappuccino he was making, Hamilton gave her a slight nod before refocusing on the task. Although he looked like a pillar of calmness, she read the hidden panic in his expression, and she hurried to help the next person in line.

  The next few hours passed in a blur of customers and coffee and pastries and bread. Despite the mass of people needing to be helped, she was intensely aware of Hamilton. Her skin prickled each time he brushed against her, but she somehow managed to keep her focus on the customers’ orders until the line was gone and just a few people lingered at the tables.

  “That was wild.” Leaning against the counter, Leah blew out a long breath and glanced at the clock. It was just past one. Even if there was another small rush in the afternoon, the worst was over. Despite that, she was reluctant to let Hamilton go. She enjoyed having him there, the two of them working in smooth cooperation as if they’d been doing this for years, and she didn’t want it to end. Plus, she didn’t know where they stood. Had the past few nights happened because she’d been convenient? Would he disappear into his loft upstairs, only stopping in to see her if the rent was late? She knew it was doubtful—at the very least, he’d be in to replenish his supply of cupcakes—but worry still niggled at her. This inner Hamilton was fun and helpful and sinfully sexy. She wanted to keep him.

  “Yeah.” He mirrored her stance, propping his hips against the coffee counter and bracing his palms behind him. It made his arm and shoulder muscles bulge beautifully. “I’m glad you finished baking when you did.”

  Yanking her eyes off the hard contours of his deltoids, she met his gaze. “Sorry it to
ok me so long this morning. I was a little...scattered.” Immediately, she realized that she’d just admitted that he’d stolen her brain when he’d gone down on her, and she glanced around, looking everywhere except at him. “Um...did you need to go? I’ll probably be fine for the rest of the afternoon.”

  He jerked his head back slightly, as if she’d slapped him. “You want me to leave?”

  “No.” The answer was out before she thought about it. “I’m offering you an escape route. You’ve worked for ten hours now. Normally, on a busy Saturday, Q only works six. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty, and I don’t think there are enough cupcakes in the world to pay you.”

  “I’m fine.” He leaned back against the counter again, the tension of a few seconds ago gone. “It doesn’t feel like work.” His gaze slanted over to her. “Mostly because you keep feeding me.”

  Her face heated for some reason. “At least take a break. Have some coffee, pour in your usual pound of sugar and gallon of milk, and hang out in the back for a few minutes. There are some sandwiches in the cooler if you want some real food.”

  Pushing away from the counter, he dipped his chin in a short nod as he turned to pour some coffee in a mug. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “You should take a break, too.” He handed her the coffee he’d just poured, and she smiled her thanks. “Come sit in the back with me. The bell will go off if there are new customers.”

  “I will.” Even as she agreed, she knew it was a stupid idea. If they were alone with no baking to distract them, it was going to be very difficult not to hurl herself at him. Her eyes fastened on his full mouth. When they weren’t pulled into a hard, flat line, his lips were infinitely gorgeous. They wouldn’t be out of place in a glossy cologne ad. He could be a lip model. The idea made her snort, and Hamilton eyed her curiously. Not wanting to go into the whole convoluted thought process, she just waved her hand, dismissing her laugh. “I’ll meet you back there. I want to wipe off the tables quickly.” That would also give her a few minutes to build up her Hamilton model-mouth defenses, so that she didn’t attack him with her lips the moment they were in the kitchen.