Tart (The Fluffy Cupcake Book 2)

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Tart (The Fluffy Cupcake Book 2) Page 23

by Katie Mettner

“Oh, really, Mrs. Halla?” I asked, raising a brow. “It will have to wait now until we get home. I am madly curious, though.”

  She pointed at the box in the corner. “You don’t have to wait. I brought it with us.”

  I stared at the giant box and tipped my head. “I wondered what that was when I brought it in. I thought it was something you needed for the bakery.”

  She grinned and motioned for me to open it. I slid the box over by the bed and ripped the tape off the top, letting the flaps fall open. I stared into the box with curiosity. “What is it?” I asked, lifting it out.

  She patted for me to set it on the bed, so I laid it in the middle and sat by her. Her hand rested on it, and she swallowed. I could tell she was suddenly unsure of herself. “After we made love the first time, and I discovered your secret sexy side, I felt bad.”

  “Oh, sweetart, no,” I said immediately. “You fucking blew my mind that night. I don’t know what you’d have to feel bad about.”

  “My leg,” she said, sweeping her hand at it. “It will keep us from doing more adventurous things in our sex life. One of us will always have to move it around, and I can’t hold myself up on it. This was my solution.”

  “It’s sex furniture,” I said, the light finally coming on. “Absolutely brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “You like it?” she asked, my approval important to her. “I was worried you wouldn’t.”

  “I fucking love it,” I growled, my lips on hers, pushing her back into the bed. “I fucking love you and love fucking you.”

  Her laughter rolled through me, and I loved every second of it. “You missed part of the gift. Check the box.”

  I buried my nose in her neck for a moment and nipped at it before I stood, my boxers tented with desire for her. “I’ll check the box, but then we’re using that pillow.” I reached into the box and pulled out a cuff with a long strap on it. “What is this?”

  “It’s um, for moving my leg out of the way. You can either hold it or fix it to the bed, so it stays where you put it.”

  I gazed at the strap in my hand before I threw it back into the box, my head shaking. I dropped to my knees by the side of the bed and moved the sheet aside, stroking her tiny, abused, twisted limb. “I will never attach a device like that to this precious leg, tart. Do I like to fuck funky? Absolutely.”

  “That’s why I bought it,” she said, forcing the words out. “I want you to be happy, and I’ll do whatever is necessary to assure that.”

  I climbed over her and positioned the ramp to the other side of me, then sat, my hand caressing her breast over her pajama top. “Listen to me, tart. I am happy, but I won’t stay that way if you think you have to put yourself at risk to keep me that way. Your leg is far too fragile to do something that will make it worse. If we need to move your leg to accomplish something we want to do, I will cradle it with love and attention, the same way I cradle your apex. Hurting you would kill me slowly and render me impotent.”

  “I love the way you love me, Mr. Halla,” she whispered. “Now, fuck me.”

  I wagged my finger at her and sat her up, pulling the sleep shirt over her head. “First, you need a few spankings for this afternoon.”

  She covered her breasts with fake shyness. “What did I do to deserve a spanking?”

  “You dared to think I would leave you because of something beyond your control.”

  “I learned my lesson,” she said right away, nodding quickly. “Love doesn’t work that way. Love doesn’t keep score.”

  I moaned and leaned in, pulling her over my lap to kiss her, cradling her head in my hands while I made love to her lips. “You passed the test, beautiful. I still haven’t forgotten that you didn’t trust me, though. Now I’m going to have to punish you.”

  I lifted her onto the pillow until her bottom was up in the air, and her head was down. “That okay on the leg?” I asked, holding it carefully, afraid to have her put too much pressure on it.

  “I like this position,” she said, wiggling her bottom. “It doesn’t hurt my leg at all.”

  “If you keep wiggling that bottom like that, you aren’t going to like that position.”

  She hooked one finger in the waistband of her shorts and tugged, an evil smile on her face the entire time. “Do you talk just to hear your voice, or do you have a point?” Her words were almost a purr, and I grasped the shorts from her hands, pulling them down and away until she was gloriously naked.

  “Oh, I have a point,” I said, going up on my knees to show her. “It’s going to be inside you very soon, but first, your bottom and I have to have a little chat. I’ll need you to be quiet.”

  “There you go again—”

  The flesh of my palm connected with her bottom, and she hushed, the slap playful and gentle. I wasn’t going to hurt her. I had no desire to do that. Playful naughtiness was okay, but pain was not part of the equation. She knew that. We’d talked about it. She was ready to explore, as evidence by the velvet pillow she’d bought.

  My fingers skimmed the tender flesh of her bottom, rubbing at the slight red mark my hand had made the first time. “Someone’s been naughty,” I said, tapping her again lightly with my hand. “So naughty that I don’t think a spanking with my hand is enough,” I said, stripping off my clothes until I was hot and hard in front of her. My dick held a drop of precum, and she gazed up at me, licking her lips.

  “Do I have permission?” she asked, waiting for me to nod once before she caught the glistening bead on her tongue.

  I leaned down, grasping her chin and kissing her, my tongue pushed out of the way by hers while she showed me who the boss was. I might think I was, but we both knew the truth. I would fold like an accordion to keep from hurting her.

  “Now, where was I?”

  “Teaching my bottom a lesson,” she answered for me, spreading her legs wider, making me moan instantly.

  “Oh, god, you are the best present I’ve ever received.”

  “The gift that keeps on giving,” she said seductively, and I laughed, slapping her ass, my dick twitching at her playful yelp.

  “More like the gift that keeps on coming, and you will be soon,” I promised, kissing the spot on her bottom that I’d reddened. “Oh, look, my tongue slipped,” I said, sliding it down her lips to her clit where I teased her for a hot second. “Maybe I need a spanking. Good thing it’s not my bottom hung over that pillow for the taking.”

  I stroked a hand down her back, letting the sensation raise goosebumps across her skin until I grasped her ass cheek and squeezed it, smacking her with my dick on the other one. She moaned, and this time, my dick twitched against her hard on its own.

  “Oh, your dick likes me,” she moaned, wiggling her bottom backward for me to smack again.

  “It fucking loves you,” I growled, grasping her waist and flipping her over. “But you know what else loves you more? My tongue. Your wedding gift to me is glorious. It spreads you wide open for me to see every last bit of your folds.”

  I rested on my belly, my head between her legs, while I traced her with my finger. Up, down, and around in a rhythm that had her writhing around on the pillow, begging for me to fuck her. I didn’t. My tongue stroked her instead, building that pending implosion until her moans of pleasure were coming faster, and her head rocked back and forth. The new way I had spread her open gave me full access to her in a way that only heightened her pleasure.

  “Come for me, tart,” I ordered without taking my tongue off her quivering folds.

  She did, grasping my hair and crying out my name while her walls spasmed around my fingers. Before she had come all the way down to earth, I turned her over again, resting her back on that pillow, bottom up, and entered her, my dick straining to find its release as hers never stopped. Her moans built again as I stroked her, finding an angle that was overpowering to me. I couldn’t stop myself, and I leaned over her back, buried my lips near her ear, and moaned loudly. “Holy fuck, Amber,” I cried, my dick filling her
with heat at the same time she let go again, her bottom pushed into my pelvis. Slowly she relaxed back into the pillow on a sigh.

  “I love you so much,” I said, tugging on her earlobe and then biting down gently. “So fucking much that I don’t know where you end and I begin.”

  “And that’s the way I love it, Bishop,” she sighed, her body going limp.

  I sat up and lifted her from the uncomfortable pillow, straightening her out on the bed and covering us, still naked and wrapped in each other’s arms. I would die a happy man as long as she was always by my side.

  THE SUN WAS SETTING, and soon the moon would be up, but I didn’t care as I floated around the lake on my chair float. The water was still warm, and the company was delightful. We’d picked Athena up at the airport yesterday, and when we got back home, we spent the rest of the day talking, laughing, and getting to know each other. We even went to The Fluffy Cupcake for some of Able Baker Brady’s sourdough to make her favorite dinner. Grilled cheese.

  Brady was pleased to introduce Athena to Lake Pendle by handing her a loaf of his famous bread. Haylee had smothered her with hugs, cupcakes, and happiness, as she always does. Something told me my best friend knew exactly why this girl had come home to see her daddy.

  Athena was indeed the spitting image of Bishop. She was gorgeous with beautiful long golden-brown hair and green eyes like her daddy. She was a full head taller than me, not a surprise, since most people are, and bubbly to boot. Whatever her reason for coming home, she hadn’t revealed it yet.

  “Lake Pendle is a great place,” she said from her innertube. “Quiet, peaceful, safe.”

  I nodded and paddled the chair around so I could face her. “My hometown is idyllic most of the time. There’s the Sunday evening waterski show on the lake every week. In fact, Able Baker Brady is always on the top of the pyramid like the show off he is. Oh! We have Strawberry Fest, too! It’s like a county fair, but better. There’s baking competitions, parades, animal judging, and the midway.”

  “That does sound fun,” she agreed, her eyes on the horizon. “Are you and daddy going this year?”

  “We are, it’s this coming weekend,” I explained. “The Fluffy Cupcake has a booth there every year where we sell cupcakes and bread. Normally, I staff the booth, but this year, things are changing. I do hope you’ll still be here. I’d love to introduce you and Bishop to the fair for the first time.”

  She rubbed her belly around and around. “The Fluffy Cupcake was the best part of this town. Those Berry Sinful cupcakes were better than anything I could get in California.”

  I chuckled and nodded. “We have no problem selling our wares in this town, that’s for sure. If you’re going to school to be a chef, you should sit down with Haylee and Brady. They’re both master bakers, and Haylee is a trained chef as well. She might have some words of wisdom to share.”

  “I’d like that,” she said, her lips trying to smile, but failing. “She was very sweet to me today. Sometimes, Daddy’s friends don’t know how to act around me, so they just ignore me. I think it’s because he doesn’t tell people he’s a father. I know over the years he’s been ashamed to admit it to his colleagues.”

  I jumped out of my lounger instantly and grabbed her innertube. “No! That is not why Bishop didn’t tell people about you,” I said, vibrating with sadness for this girl who thought her dad wanted to hide her away.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” she said quickly, “I love him, and I get why he does it. It’s hard to be barely thirty-four and have an eighteen-year-old kid to deal with.”

  My head swung wildly while I pushed her tube to shore. “Listen to me, Athena. He has never been ashamed of you a day in his life. God, he loves you so much that he’d die for you. I know you don’t understand the nuances of being a teen parent, but it’s a real thing. He was cautious because he didn’t want you to get hurt. He had to trust people before he’d tell them.”

  “He told you right away, though,” she pointed out.

  “He did,” I agreed.

  “He must have trusted you then.”

  I smiled and winked, hoping my face was open and honest. “He did, but in Bishop’s defense, it just slipped out. We started this relationship as friends, and he didn’t have any reason to hide you from me. Now I can see that he just needed someone to talk to about it. He missed you terribly, even if he tried to hide it,” I said, and she chuckled, nodding her head.

  “He’s always the stoic one.”

  I pointed at her and laughed. “Exactly. He tried to hide it, but I could tell that he was struggling with his little version of having an empty nest. He’s fiercely proud of you, though, and he’d fight to the death against anyone who tried to hurt you.”

  “Dinner is ready,” Bishop called, jogging down the hill.

  Athena smiled to acknowledge what I said, but I could tell she only half believed me. She jumped out of her tube, tossing it up on shore along with my float. I made my way to shore on one leg, and Bishop wrapped me in a towel before he lifted me into his arms to carry me up the hill.

  “I love you, Mrs. Halla,” he whispered, kissing my lips once while he walked.

  “Newlyweds,” Athena said from behind us with fake sarcasm and disgust.

  I chuckled with Bishop, stroking his bearded cheek until he set me in a seat at the table. It was piled high with burgers and brats, chips, and watermelon. I happened to know some raspberry tarts were waiting in the fridge, too. I bit into a brat while we talked about everything from Athena’s internship at Disney to her school days in California. It was the first time she had mentioned school or work, which told us that she was struggling with something that had to do with them.

  “That was delicious. Thanks, Bishop,” I said, rubbing my belly, now full to the brim. “I think I’ll have to wait on those tarts in the fridge. I’m stuffed.”

  “Me, too,” Athena agreed. “The brats were addicting.”

  While Bishop cleaned up dinner, I explained to her where the brats came from and how we have a meat market and smokehouse right here in Lake Pendle. With the moon out, Bishop started a fire, and we got comfy around the new pit.

  “It’s so unbelievably beautiful and silent here,” she said, staring up at the sky streaked with clouds. “I miss the silence of the Midwest.”

  “It does have a certain essence the big cities don’t have,” Bishop agreed.

  “Big cities aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” she said, nodding as she stared into the fire. “I moved to San Diego because of the huge LGBTQ community there, but I may have let that be the driving power instead of everything else.”

  “What is everything else?” Bishop asked, leaning forward to see her better.

  “Common sense,” she finally answered with a shrug.

  “Are you trying to say you miss home?” I asked, hoping she’d finally come clean about why she was here.

  Her head nodded while her chin trembled for a moment. “Desperately. It’s not like homesickness, either. I know the difference. It’s just that everything feels wrong when I’m out there. I don’t belong, even in this gigantic community of likeminded people. They’ve welcomed me into their fold, and they don’t treat me like an outsider, but yet, I’m not them. If that makes sense.”

  I eyed Bishop for a moment who sat stunned in his chair. Finally, he reached out to grasp her hand. “Have you talked to your mom about it yet?” he asked, squeezing her hand.

  “No,” Athena said, shaking her head. “She’ll give me the standard social worker answer. Have you ever noticed she always tries to play both sides of the fence with me? It’s never helpful. That’s why I came to you, Daddy. I need help figuring out what to do.”

  “I’m always here for you, baby. Amber, too. We’ll help you work through this. I don’t want you to be unhappy, and we can see that you are. If you take the physical place out of the equation, do you enjoy what you’re learning in school?”

  “Love it!” she said, laughter on her lips again. “I
love culinary school and the challenges it offers me. I’m not unhappy doing what I’m doing.”

  “You’re unhappy where you’re doing it,” I finished.

  She nodded, pointing at me. “Does that make me...” She paused and motioned her hand around in the dark. “A child? Does it make me a quitter?”

  “Absolutely not!” Bishop exclaimed, pulling her into his arms and rocking her. “You are not the first, nor will you be the last, eighteen-year-old, who discovers who they are by learning who they aren’t.”

  She leaned back on the chair and wiped a tear from her face discreetly. “You mean it’s not a bad thing to feel this way?”

  Bishop smiled and gripped her cheeks in his hands. “A bad thing? No, I think it’s a good thing. You spent a year away from home and learned that big cities aren’t for you. That’s growth, and growth is never a bad thing.”

  I stayed quiet during the exchange between them because I knew he was right. Sometimes we have to do new things to grow, even if we learn they aren’t for us. Look at me. I had to move out of my parents’ house to figure out that I didn’t have to live under their thumb any more. It sounds stupid, but sometimes we can’t see the forest when we’re among all the trees.

  “Did you just take a break from Disney, or did you quit?” Bishop asked in the most non-confrontational way possible.

  “I didn’t quit, but I told them I might be gone for two weeks. They’re okay with it. I’m not a flaky teenager, but I also couldn’t wait until August to talk to someone about this.”

  “You have decisions to make about school,” Bishop said, and she nodded.

  “I’ve been here for forty-eight hours, and I already don’t want to go back to the smog, heat, crowds, and noise. It’s just not for me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being a small-town girl, Athena,” I said firmly. “I’ve lived here my entire life, and this town has taken care of me. Never underestimate the power of a small town.”

  She nodded and bit her lip. “I know, but the problem is, there aren’t any culinary schools in small towns. They’re all in big cities.”

 

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