Deep in You

by Penny Wylder

  “Please, Caleb,” I cry out this time. “Fucking eat me out.”

  He pushes my legs even wider, grinning. “That’s more like it.” Then he cups my ass, pulls it off the table with both hands gripping tight on either cheek, and delves his tongue into my slit.

  I moan and buck against him, the sensation overwhelming—his hot wet tongue against my sensitive skin. He licks from back to front and back again, over and over, sloppy and wet and messy, his hot tongue exploring every inch of my cleft. Then he pushes deeper, presses his tongue between my lips and inside my pussy, and I cry out louder, leaning back against the table.

  He swirls his tongue inside me, making my hips buck. Then he pulls my pussy against his face and laps his flat, planed tongue along my clit, and I gasp, the pressure starting to build. He keeps going, licking me hard and fast, and at the same time pushing one finger into my pussy. He laps at my clit as he fingers my pussy, adding another finger, then another, until he has three fingers deep inside me, curling them up against my inner wall, stroking my G-spot while he licks and sucks at my clit.

  Soon I’m screaming, head back, spots dancing in my vision as the orgasm sweeps through me. He doesn’t stop, just keeps licking me, and before long, a second one hits me, making my pussy clench and my body shake as I moan desperately.

  Then I hear a distant beep, and I rocket off the desk, breathing hard as I grab for my jeans.

  “Where’s the fire?” he asks, laughing.

  I nod toward the kitchen. “It’ll be in there unless we go rescue that cake.”

  7

  Against all odds, we manage not to burn the cake and Caleb leaves for something else he has on his schedule. He kisses me goodbye—a long, hot, searing kiss that’s just reminds me again how fucking good he is with his tongue.

  But as I watch him drive away while I lock up the bakery, I can’t help but wonder where he’s off to now. Who he’s off to now. What other clients might be on his schedule.

  Does he feel about them the way I feel about him? Does he feel so comfortable, easy, normal with his other clients?

  I shake myself out of it. I can’t go thinking like this.

  But it’s a hard mental image to shake. I spent all night with it stuck in my brain. Even when I whip out my favorite vibrator, the little egg that slides right into my pussy and rests at my G-spot, pulsing vibrations that usually curl my toes and drive me wild with hardly any imagination required, the mental image still sticks.

  I can’t get Caleb out of my head.

  Worse, I can’t stop wondering if this might be more than what it seems. If he might feel something for me, more than he’d feel for a client. Is this more than just the business arrangement it appears to be?

  Impossible.

  He meets me at the bakery the next morning, right at 9am when he said he’d be there, prompt as usual. Lara is up front, consumed in her work, but she stares open-mouthed as Caleb strides through the doors, dressed in yet another slick button-down top and those dress pants again, the ones I desperately want to rip off his sexy body. Lara winks at me and slides into the back room. I’m going to be treated to no end of prodding questions later, I’m sure. But for now, I can’t say I’m mad about him being here.

  “Here you go,” I tell him, passing over the box that I tied up with aqua ribbons this morning, cake inside.

  He accepts it, smiles. “Pleasure doing business with you, Carmine.”

  My heart sinks. I force myself to ignore it, to keep smiling. “You too, Caleb.”

  He lingers before the counter. I find myself drifting closer to him, unable to help it.

  “Anything else I can help you with?” I ask finally, when he still hasn’t made a move. I tilt my head back to meet his gaze, and find those sharp gray eyes fixed on mine.

  “Definitely. But I don’t think I should detail that in mixed company,” he responds, grinning.

  My cheeks flush. “You’ll have to send me the details later.”

  “I could.” His gaze drops to my chest, then follows the angles of my hips to my legs, bare beneath my apron, since I wore a skirt to work for once. Maybe, possibly motivated by the fact that I knew Caleb would be stopping by. “Or, better yet, you could come with me.”

  I blink and tilt my head. “What, now? You’re busy.” I laugh and nudge the cake box in his hands. “Or have you forgotten your niece already?”

  “Come with me to the party,” he clarifies. “It might not be the most exciting bash of the year, six years olds, you know, but afterwards…” He steps closer and circles an arm around my waist. Tugs me against him, so I can feel the hard muscular press of his chest against my breasts. Not to mention the way his thigh digs between mine, makes me all too aware of the ache that’s starting to grow in my clit, the same way it does anytime he’s around. “I promise, I’ll make it worth your while,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.

  I shiver and sink into his embrace. Savor his familiar scent, the feel of his arm around my waist. It’s tempting. So damn tempting. But… I heave a sigh and force myself to step back, just as Lara pops out of the kitchen door. She freezes in the doorframe, wide-eyed, clearly having thought it would be safe to re-enter by now. I wave a hand at her to stay while I shake my head at Caleb.

  “I can’t today. I’ve got to work. We have two orders to finish up today, and then—”

  “Carl and Jen can handle those,” Lara butts in.

  I spin to stare at her, wide-eyed. “But…”

  “I was just in the back talking to Jen actually. She’d love the chance to take on a little more responsibility. Let her try it out today. They’ve got their marching orders, things are trekking along.”

  That wide-eyed stare shifts into a frown. “But the timing…”

  “I’ll keep on top of the kids,” Lara says, shaking a finger at me now. “You deserve to take some time off for once in your life.”

  I flash a single, panicked glance over my shoulder at Caleb. But he only spreads his hands, innocent.

  “Don’t look at me,” he says. “I’ll only tell you your friend is right.”

  “I like him,” Lara replies, flashing him a quick wink past me. “Good head on his shoulders.”

  “Who said you guys are allowed to gang up on me?” I grumble.

  “Pretty sure that’s BFF privilege numero uno,” Lara points out. “Ganging up on you when you’re being silly. Go and have fun at…” She glances past me at Caleb. “Whatever you two are up to.”

  “Unless work was just an excuse,” Caleb answers quickly. “In which case, I completely understand. Hanging out with my 6-year-old niece might not be your idea of a great Monday…”

  “Okay, I didn’t think he could get any more adorable, but now…” Lara waves a hand.

  I snort. “I’d love to go, Caleb.” I flash Lara one last look. “But only if you’re sure.”

  “Get out of here before I shove you out the door,” she scolds, reaching over to accept the apron I’m untying from my neck.

  “Fine, I can take a hint,” I call over my shoulder. I’m nervous about leaving the shop in Lara and the assistants’ hands. But I can’t deny it—those nerves flood away in an instant when Caleb reaches down and catches my hand in his, our fingers entwining.

  We take his car, drive to his sister’s house on the outskirts of town. When we climb out of the car and he catches my hand again—unafraid to hold it in front of his family, apparently—I can’t help thinking yet again that this has to be something special. Unique.

  There’s no way he’d bring me to this party if ours was a purely business relationship. Right?

  Caleb’s sister, Beth, turns out to be his stepsister, I learn as he introduces me to the bubbly blond with a strong American accent.

  “So glad you could both make it,” she gushes as she tries to corral a small herd of 6-year-old girls, currently stampeding through the house on their way from one birthday activity to the next. “Oh, and the cake!” Her eyes light up. “I’m in lov
e with your bakery, Carmine. Caleb was telling me you gave him a special class and everything, I about died of jealousy.”

  My cheeks flush bright red, thinking about exactly how special that class was. Pretty sure his sister wouldn’t have wanted the version of baking class that he got. “No trouble at all,” I hear myself saying as Beth leads us through the winding hallways of her house toward the kitchen.

  “Still, it’s so sweet…”

  I lose track of the conversation when we reach the kitchen, which is packed with people. I lose my grip on Caleb too, and find myself fumbling through the chaos, trying to find some people I recognize.

  More than a few seem to recognize me, though, and after I spot Caleb trapped in a conversation with a few older guys out back by the grill, I let some neighbors pull me into a conversation about the bakery business. We chat for a few minutes, mostly them asking questions about how hard it was to get started and how much they’ve heard from their friends that they need to try our cakes.

  Then the conversation drifts toward mutual friends, play dates for the kids, and other topics I can’t follow, and I politely excuse myself.

  I’m trying to make my way back across the kitchen when I catch a snippet of a conversation that freezes me in my tracks.

  “Where do you think he knows her from, anyway?”

  “Who knows? Probably his company, if you can call it that.”

  “Can you believe Beth is okay with him doing that? I hear his own mother disowned him, you know, when it came out.”

  “So do you think she’s a client or…?”

  “Surely not. Even a whore must have the dignity not to bring his work to a six-year-old’s birthday party,” one of the neighbors says. “It’s just not appropriate.” She doesn’t even bother to lower her voice on the word whore.

  I spin around, face bright red, fists clenched with fury. “You’d think using that sort of language would be the thing that’s not appropriate,” I say, scowling.

  The woman flushes. Clearly she thought I was out of earshot. Her friends all blush too, avoiding my eye.

  “Who asked what any of you think, anyway?” I ask, my voice rising a little. I can’t help it. I’m too angry. “It’s none of your business how Caleb decides to earn his living.”

  “As long as you don’t mind that your man earns his money giving it up for other people, you’re right, what business is it of ours?” One of the girls laughs. The others join in.

  “Personally I just can’t imagine being all right with that,” the first woman adds, shaking her head at me, as though she pities me. “Going out with a man who would toss you aside the second a woman with a bigger purse came along.”

  I push past them. Screw these women. Screw their judgmental attitudes and their know-it-all smirks.

  And screw the way their words sink into the pit of my stomach. Make me confront what I’ve been hiding from all along. Because deep down, I know they’re right.

  This isn’t anything more than a business relationship. And I’m already in way over my head.

  I elbow my way out the back of the house and head for the path to the front. I’ll catch a cab out front. I can’t stick around here any longer. Can’t be paraded around as if I’m Caleb’s friend, or girlfriend, or something, anything besides what I actually am. Nothing more than a client.

  I’m halfway out the gate, up the gravel driveway toward the street, when a warm hand closes around my bicep.

  “Carmine.”

  I freeze in the driveway, chest heaving, eyes stinging. I don’t want to turn around. To see the expression on his face when he confirms it. “I have to go, Caleb,” I say.

  “I’m sorry. Those women, Beth’s neighbors, they can be real judgmental assholes at times. But they don’t know me, they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

  “Judgmental attitude aside,” I respond slowly, “they’re not wrong, are they?” I finally turn around, and find him frowning at me, hurt in those stormy gray eyes.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not upset at you, Caleb.” I shake my head, chest tight. “Just at myself. This was… stupid. I should have known; this is just business. I let myself get in too deep, let myself believe it was something it isn’t.”

  “Stop right there.” He closes the gap between us, gripping my other arm now, his hands tight around my shoulders. “Carmine… This is not just business.”

  I swallow hard. Keep my eyes locked on his.

  He bites his lip and shakes his head once, hard. “I didn’t want to say anything, not yet. I didn’t want to freak you out. But… I haven’t seen anyone else. Not since I first saw you.” His frown twists a little. “Not since some time before that either, actually.”

  My brows draw in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  He jerks his head back over his shoulder, gesturing at the party. “A couple months ago, one of Beth’s neighbors found the site I work for. She called my mother, told my entire family back in London.”

  My jaw drops. “I’m sorry, that’s…”

  “It was shitty, but you know what, it turned out fine. I didn’t want to hurt my parents any more, so I swore I’d change jobs. Find another way to put myself through school. I nearly had enough money saved up for my full degree anyway. I tried to pull my info from the site, but they have a contract, annual policy.” He sighs and rolls his eyes. “They made me leave up my details until the year is out. But it was up to me to decide whether I wanted to accept any job offers I got in the meantime. I didn’t. Not since this whole thing blew up. I’ve ignored every booking request I’ve gotten… Until yours.”

  “Why mine?” My voice comes out a whisper. I’m too scared to raise it. Too scared this moment will shatter, turn out to be a dream.

  Caleb leans closer, his mouth inches from mine. “I had to see you. I had to know if you were as bold and sexy as you sounded in that message.” He shakes his head, eyes still fixed on mine. “I can’t explain it, it’s… I’ve never met a woman so confident about what she wants, so open and forthright about what she enjoys.” He smirks a little. “And, it didn’t hurt that you’re every inch as kinky as I am.”

  I laugh, eyes still locked.

  “I was too weak to resist you, Carmine. I had to see you. Find out if you were as filthy hot in person.” He tilts his head forward until his forehead comes to rest against mine. “And damn, you did not disappoint. You’re everything I imagined and more.” He cups my cheek, and I tilt my face toward his. His lips find mine, a slow, searing kiss that I feel all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes.

  When we break apart, it’s hard to catch my breath.

  “That’s the real reason I never charged you,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to be escort and client. I want to be more. I really, really like you, Carmine, and…” His eyes search mine for a long moment. “I want you. All of you.”

  This time, when his lips crash into mine again, I let myself fall into the kiss. I twine my hand through his hair, part my lips, trace his tongue with mine.

  We kiss until we hear Beth in the backyard, shouting for the kids to come cut the cake. Then we break apart, breathless, and clasp hands again, grinning.

  “We can sneak out if you want,” he says.

  But I shake my head. I know what this means to him. “Fuck those bitchy neighbors,” I reply, lifting my head high. “Let’s go show them what a real happy couple looks like.”

  He laughs, and I elbow his side gently.

  “Besides,” I point out, “we need to taste how our masterpiece of a cake turned out.”

  8

  After the birthday party, Caleb drives me back to my place. On the way, I cave and check my phone, asking Lara about the bakery. But she sends back a happy, smiling selfie with Jen and Carl—they finished all the orders on time. No stress necessary.

  That lets me relax when we finally pull into my driveway. Which is lucky, because as soon as I turn to face Caleb, neither of us can keep our hands off
one another long enough to park the car, let alone stumble up the steps toward the bedroom. We leave a trail of clothing in our wake—my shirt on the bottom of the steps, my bra somewhere near the top, his pants on the landing, his shirt looped over my bedroom door.

  “I can’t wait to be inside you,” he murmurs as he kisses his way down the side of my neck, still walking me backwards toward the bed, our arms locked around each other. I’m down to just my thong now, and I know that won’t last long. Not with Caleb completely naked before me.

  “I want to taste your sexy fucking cock again.” I lean back and kiss down his chest, but he stops me. Tilts my head back to smirk down at me.

  “You will,” he promises. “Tomorrow morning when I get you on your knees in the shower.”

  I shiver at the thought of that. But at the same time, I lift my eyebrows in response. “Oh really? And what do you have on our schedule instead tonight, Mr. Dirty Boy?”

  “Don’t you worry, Dirty Girl. It’s a surprise.” He pins me against the wall and kisses down to my chest, sucking one nipple into his mouth and gently swirling his tongue around it. It hardens at his touch, and my other nipple does too as he drops a hand to massage my other breast. “Spread your legs,” he says, then nips at my breast again, just hard enough to make me gasp.

  I spread my legs and shiver as he runs a hand up my inner thigh, the warm skin of his calloused hand grazing the edge of my thong, already growing wet.

  I lean into him, but he presses me back against the wall with a smirk. “So impatient,” he remarks.

  “What can I say?” I lift an eyebrow. “You make me hungry for more.”

  “You’ll get your fill.” He grasps my hands, pulls them up over my head and pins them against the wall. Using his free hand, he reaches for my drawer of goodies beside us.

  “Promises, promises,” I say.

  That makes him pause in his search and grab my waist again, pulling my body against his as he leans down, his lips just a scarce inch away from mine. “Don’t believe I can fill you up? You’ve had my cock inside you. Not to mention down your throat. Wasn’t that enough for you, Dirty Girl?”