American Boyfriend
Love in Texas
Chance Carter
Contents
Texas
Personal Invitation
Also by Chance Carter
Texas
It’s been a hot summer. Hotter than usual but the temperature seems to go up every year. It’s the new normal. This humidity tends to rest around eighty percent, leavin’ the lingering air thick and wet.
It’s hot, yeah, but I like this weather. I like the storms it stirs up, the bass of the thunder cracking through the building shaking the windows, that bright flash of lightening, it’s glow giving a brief glimpse into the darkness.
After a storm breaks there’s a coolness in the air, but that don’t last long. As they say around here, if you don’t like the weather, wait a minute. Once it passes, the hot sun comes out and scorches the earth and you can only hope a storm comes back soon.
But that’s not what I’m talking about, about it being a hot summer. It’s been a hot summer because of you. You walked into Sweet City Bakery just when May was becoming June. I just put up the Help Wanted sign the day before. You must’ve come by often to notice it so soon.
How did I not notice you?
I was in the back rolling out the pastry for my famous pecan pie, made with with the sweetest sugar, refined right here in our little town.
I looked up when I heard the bell chime on the front door.
“Hello?” your sweet, soft voice called out to me.
The voice of an angel. Maybe the heat finally got me, ‘cause there’s no way I’m the kinda guy who’d end up in heaven.
I glanced at the security camera monitor. I had to see what kinda girl I was in store for. A voice that sweet ought to be bringing trouble with it.
It seems every girl in a twenty mile radius wants to work at Sweet City. I’ve had more walk in here looking for a gig than I could shake a stick at. And they’re always surprised to see what the owner looks like.
If you met me on the street, the last thing you’d expect is that I’m a baker. People think I’m being funny when I tell them what I do. Six foot tall when hunched over, bald head, muscles squeezin’ through my white crew neck, tattoos runnin’ up and down my arms.
No one thinks I own the cutest pie shop in town.
I’ve got those lace curtains hanging ‘round the tops of the windows. There’s more pink on the walls than any man should rightly have. I serve tea in those flowery china cups.
A real chick place.
But what can I say, I like chicks, and I’m damn good at making pies. This is the best gig a guy could ask for. All these sweet little things coming in here, but none compare to you.
Where had you been hiding, darling?
On the monitor I watched you standing all alone in the centre of the shop, fiddling with your resume, looking ‘round wondering where I was.
You didn’t realize I was watching you all along.
You were wearing the sweetest lil sundress. Bold red with tiny white dots that softened it and made it beautiful, like you. The front cut down deep and had a white lace trim that almost matched the curtains.
Your perky breasts were peeking out just enough to make a guy wonder what else was hidin’ behind that lace.
The skirt was long and modest, falling below your knees, but light and breezy. What I wouldn’t give for the wind of a Texas storm to come in at that moment and give me a glimpse.
Shit, girl.
I was getting hard already.
I couldn’t go and greet you like this, not with my hard cock sticking out in front of me like a stud stallion on duty. But damn, excuse the language, you pressed all my buttons.
Your soft hair was in loose curls falling down over your shoulders. It’d be an awful thing to tuck that away into a hair net, working here.
A drop of sweat fell from my forehead, landing on my lap, bringing me back to reality. I caught myself staring, my hand holding the top of my pants. It was hard to resist sliding my hand inside and just pleasurin’ myself at the sight of you there.
“Hello?” you called out again.
Shit. I gotta go out there and say hello but I can’t let you see my raging cock ready to burst from the front of my pants.
There ain’t no way you won’t notice a bulge like this.
I grabbed an apron and doubled it over, tied it around my waist, trying to hide what I didn’t want you to see, least not yet.
“Howdy, Miss. What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” I said coming out from the back.
Your eyes grew wide as I ever saw on someone. I watched them dart all over me, taking in each muscle, each tattoo, finally resting on where I hoped you wouldn’t look.
Clearly, I didn’t do a great job at hiding it. Not exactly the best first impression.
You blushed.
Damn those rosy cheeks, matching your dress. I couldn’t help but smile.
I thought a nice, pretty girl like you’d be offended at seeing a strange man’s erection, but I could tell you liked seeing it as much as I liked showing it.
I smirked, you hadn’t noticed that I’d caught ya.
“What can I do you for?”
That was a bit more leading of a question than I initially intended.
“Eh, excuse me?”
“I mean, what you got in your hands there? That for me?”
I loved that you were flustered. It made you even prettier.
“What? Oh, this. Is the owner or manager around? I saw the Help Wanted sign in the window. I just moved here and I’m looking for work.”
Now that I was closer to you I could see the sweat glistening on your chest, the dew gathering and falling between your tits. I thought of something else I’d like to place between those perfectly round treasures. Anyone else with that much sweat on em would look like a hot mess, but it made you glow like an angel.
“That’s me, I own this place. Name’s Frank Taylor.”
“Oh? Oh! Oooh. Mister Taylor. Right. Mister Taylor.”
I liked the sound of that.
“I see. Well, then this is for you. It’s my resume. I have lots of experience in customer service and I’m real, uh, friendly and I’m, uh, I’m very available.”
“Very available? Well. I like the sounds of that.”
You got even redder, if that was possible.
“Hah hah,” I said, letting you know I was kidding. For now.
“Bakeries have got irregular work hours, you know. Have you ever worked in a bakery before?”
“Well, no. But…”
But. Butt. How would I get you to turn around so I could see yours. I could only imagine it was as full and plump as your tits. God help me, I always had a weakness for curves like yours.
“Turn around,” I said, a grin spreading across my face. “You see the hours on the door there?”
And good Lord, there it was. So lovely. I imagined taking you into the back, pushing you up against my work table, lifting that skirt up above your womanly hips and just sliding in between your sweet, luscious ass cheeks. Yes Sir, I admit it. I wanted you then and there and there was no denying it.
“Yes. I see them. Yes.”
Yes, yes, yes!
“You ever heard of Sweet City pies before?”
You shook your head and girl, you couldn’t have looked prettier. You were blushing like a virgin on her wedding night, and that’s just how I wanted you. I wanted to bring such color to your cheeks like you wouldn’t believe.
“Oh sweetheart, how could you not? You know my pies are world famous? I even freeze them and ship them across the country. They’re made of sugar from right here,
you know? The sweetest sugar in all of Texas, the entire country even.”
You seemed restless, like you couldn’t keep still. I got the impression you were holding something back. I noticed there was more sweat forming on your tits and it made me want to go in the back and turn the heat on. I wondered if it was from the heat in the air or the heat you were feeling from me.
“Sugar sweeter than you ever tasted,” I said. “But you’re not even payin’ attention, are you, Miss?”
And then what did you do? I couldn’t believe it.
You rolled your eyes.
At me!
You actually rolled your eyes at me!
And when you spoke you were a whole lot more sure of yourself than I’d been expecting.
“Mister, do you need someone to work here or was the help wanted sign just to lure people in so you could parade your ego in front of them?”
“Excuse me?” I said.
You went right on.
“I’m competent, reliable, and trustworthy and I would be an asset to any business, so excuse me if I came in here looking for a professional because all I’m seein ‘round here is a dirty old brute with nothin’ better to do than toot his own horn, and, uh, show it off too.”
You winked toward the bulge under my apron.
“Real professional,” you said. “Real slick. You should put a picture of that on your business card.”
I couldn’t believe it!
“Old brute?” I stammered.
That’s what you thought, huh?
Because I could show you a brute.
I already knew there was no way in hell I was hiring you. The last thing I needed was some fancy talking woman who would slap me with a sexual harassment lawsuit first chance she got.
You’re accent told me you weren’t from around town. Well, I didn’t care where you were from. There was only one thing I wanted from you, and it wasn’t a copy of that creased resume you were still clutching in your paws.
I wanted to punish you for that wicked tongue. I wanted to show you just how we did things here in the great State of Texas. This was God’s own country, where everything’s bigger and everything’s better. If you didn’t have the sense to see that, I was just the man to give you a lesson.
I wanted to see what you could do with your hands, with your mouth, with your body. I could tell just from lookin’ at you that you knew how to work a man. I’m not saying you looked easy. If anything, you looked the exact opposite. I just knew straight away that whatever trouble you came with would be well worth it.
Shit, it was so hot in that bakery I wanted to take my clothes off right then and there. And you weren’t makin’ it any cooler, sweetheart.
I thought about our skin touching, the sweat between us acting as it’s own lubricant, lettin’ our bodies move and glide against each other with such ease, allowin’ for greater force with every thrust. Absolutely no resistance.
You came to Texas, and now I was going to bring Texas to you.
Then I got an idea.
“I tell you what,” I said. “You’re obviously new around these parts, obviously not accustomed to this Texas size heat,” I said gesturing to your glistening chest. “Why don’t you come on to the back with me, into the cool walk-in, and try some of our world class baking for yourself.”
“World class?” you said, doubtfully.
“My pie filling is the best you’ll ever find.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“I’ll even let you lick it right off my finger,” I said, winking.
Well, that did it.
I always knew how to make a girl mad, but you took it to a whole new level. There was a jug of water on the counter and you poured yourself a glass. I thought you were going to take a drink but you didn’t. You flung the water right at me.
I laughed and held up my hands.
“Damn, girl. You’re only going to make this shirt see-through.”
“Oh, please,” you said.
“I’m just playing with you,” I said. “Come on. We have spoons in back too. We’re not completely uncivilized.”
You arched your eyebrows skeptically but I’ll give you credit. You started sauntering back to the kitchen without showing even the slightest sign of weakness.
You were determined. No doubt about it. You played it perfectly tough, perfectly professional, like there was nothing I could do to you that you hadn’t already thought of.
But I knew there was a part of you that was curious. You were testing me. You wanted to know if I was all talk, or if I could bite too.
And you damn well wanted that job too. You weren’t messing around.
The only question was, what would I make you do to get it?
You walked all the way to the back where the walk-in cooler was.
“This the one?” you said with the coyest little grin I ever saw on your pretty face. You knew exactly what I wanted from you.
“Yes ma’am.”
You pulled up the silver latch and thrust open the heavy door. A blast of cool air came at us full force. Typically you think of cold air as making you tighten up, but shit, if it didn’t relax me after being in that oppressive heat.
I wondered what it did to your body. Was it relaxing you too? The way you moved your hips as you walked in, you knew you were teasing me. Damn.
“Okay, so where is this famous pie filling of yours?” you said as soon as we got inside. “I’d like to taste it. If I’m going to sell a product, I want to be able to experience it first. Fully.”
You’re a naughty, naughty girl and you know it.
My cock throbbed in anticipation for what it knew was coming.
I took a deep breath.
“This one, right here,” I said, popping off the lid and dipping the spoon into the sweet pecan pie filling. When I lifted my head back up you were standing there with your slender hands on your hips, legs slightly apart, your head tilted back and, sweet Lord above, your mouth open.
I never saw such a delicious temptress in all my life.
I couldn’t recall the last time I almost came in my pants but looking at you at that moment, your mouth open like you were begging me, almost took me over the edge.
My cock pressed against the front of my pants, aching for release. I paused. I had to memorize this image of you in case I needed it later, back when I was home alone.
I couldn’t decide if I wanted to slide my hand up that skirt between your legs or shove my cock deep into your mouth.
“You, uh, wanna take the spoon here, Miss?”
And what did you say?
“No. I want you to feed it to me.”
My cock throbbed again, almost spilling itself all over the inside of my pants. What a waste that would have been!
Your eyes were still closed as you spoke.
“The way you describe your pies, it sounds like an experience for the senses and I want to experience it fully in my mouth.”
Oh I bet you do!
Were you purposely torturing me for being so arrogant before?
I fed you the spoon and you closed your perfect, soft, pink lips around it. My hand still holding the end of the spoon, I could feel the movements of your tongue licking up each bit of the sticky, sweet filling. I imagined the spoon was the head of my cock and your tongue was playing with me, sliding all over me trying to make me cum.
I pulled the spoon slowly from your mouth and you kept your lips pressed firmly around it, making sure you cleaned it off perfectly.
“Now I want to try the cherry,” you said.
I shuddered with desire. I handed you the spoon and you did that sexy sway over to the cherry filling and took off the lid. You dropped the spoon to the ground and instead lowered your finger into the sticky filling. You turned to me and brought your finger to my mouth. I looked into your eyes, trying to tell if you were going to play some sort of trick on me.
Then, I sucked your finger. It was delicious.
“I want to taste it
too,” you said.
You leaned forward into me, hips first, and pressed your lips against mine, parting them with your tongue and shoving it in. I was stunned. I’ve seduced my share of women, but I’d never experienced anything even remotely like you.
You moved your tongue in my mouth just as you’d moved it on the spoon moments earlier. Shit. There’s no way you didn’t feel my raging cock pressed hard against your thigh.
At least now you could tell how bad I truly wanted you.
It was so hot having you push me up against the wall and give me the most passionate, deliciously sweet kiss. Your tongue moved its way all around mine. I couldn’t do nothin’ but surrender my mouth to yours.
I gasped in pleasure as our kiss continued for what felt like an eternity. I wanted more of you with every passing second. I couldn’t stop with just a kiss. I had to taste everything you had to offer.
I ran my hand up your smooth leg, lifting your skirt, but just before I got to the good stuff your hand stopped me.
Shit.
You backed away but my lips were still moving, begging for yours to come back. I watched as you took a few steps back, then sat on the edge of some boxes. You hiked your skirt up to just above your knees.
It was just enough that I could see more of your sexy legs, but not quite enough that I could see what succulent treats you were hiding underneath. I longed to see your pussy, to taste it, to sink my cock into it and fill you with my cum.
It was then that I noticed the cute red shoes you were wearing. They were heels, but modest ones. Like your dress, they were sweet and sexy and left a lot to the imagination. What I liked best was that they raised your gorgeous knees higher into the air, making for a more alluring pose.
You inched your skirt a little higher.
I got right down on my knees in front of you. I grabbed your ankles, then slowly slid my hands up your legs. As they slid under your dress, it was like sneaking my hand into a treasure chest. I knew I was gonna come out with gold.
My fingers made it up to your pussy and well, shit. Had you really not been wearin’ panties this whole time?
Clever girl. Keepin’ it breezy on a hot day.
Love in Texas (American Boyfriend Book 1) Page 1
