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FLIRT

Page 5

by Penny Wylder


  “I’m fine,” she says. I’m not convinced.

  “That sounds like a lie.”

  She laughs, but there’s no life in it. “Things aren’t great right now. Not like, as bad as dad, but just not great. I got moved to nights at the hospital, and my body doesn’t want to get used to the schedule. So I’m tired all the time. And I broke up with Brady.”

  “Really? I thought we liked Brady.” My sister and Brady had been together for at least a year.

  She shakes her head. “No, he was a dick.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He was just an ass. Nothing I did was good enough for him, and he wasn’t supportive. So he had to go.”

  I nod. “Fair enough.”

  My phone buzzes in my hand, and I can see on the screen that it’s a text from Thomas. I turn the screen down into my lap so Fiona doesn’t look over and see his name. But the text coming in makes me wonder. What if it’s about the loan or about the ‘more’ that he mentioned earlier? It buzzes again. And then again. At this rate I could use my phone as a vibrator.

  Then again, knowing Thomas, that could be entirely his point. My mind flashes back to last night and the explosive pleasure of that orgasm.

  “Rosie?”

  I jerk out of the memory and wince. I’m annoyed that everyone keeps calling Rosie, but it’s not the time to raise the issue. “Yeah?”

  “Where’d you go?”

  “Sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “Just thinking about the list. What did you say?”

  “I asked how you are?” she says.

  I shrug. “I’m okay. I’ll be better when this is all resolved.”

  “Any guys in the picture?”

  I have to bite my tongue from saying yes immediately. “No, not really. Dating in New York is a freaking nightmare. Everyone is so busy, it’s almost impossible.”

  She laughs. “Yeah, I can understand that, I guess. Hopefully you’re still getting some action.”

  “Here and there.” I allow myself a small smile.

  We pull into the bakery parking lot and that knot of dread that I’d managed to ignore last night and this morning re-appears in my gut. The parking lot around the building is empty, and I can already see that there’s nobody inside. There wasn’t anybody here yesterday either. It’s not going to be easy to show improvement if no one even stops by. But I need to clarify with Thomas just how much improvement his father needs to see. Because at this rate, if we can get even ten customers in here it will look like things have improved.

  Dad comes out of the back when he hears the bell ring, and there’s a smudge of flour on his face. “My girls!” he says. “Come by to have some cupcakes?”

  “If by cupcakes you mean business, then sure,” I say. “But I’ll take a cupcake too.”

  Fiona and I settle at a table and pull out the list. While I’m waiting for my dad to come back, I look at my phone. Fiona can’t see the screen now.

  There are three texts from Thomas.

  I can’t stop thinking about you on your knees.

  Next time I’ll be the one on my knees.

  My mouth is watering just thinking about tasting you.

  I feel the flush rising under my skin, and I put the phone down quickly. The heat from those texts goes straight to my pussy, and I cross my legs to put some pressure on it. Maybe I should have stayed with Thomas a little later this morning, because last night was clearly not enough.

  Dad comes back bearing cupcakes and tea, and I settle in to tell him about our plans, and to definitely not think about Thomas Logan.

  7

  The bell above the door rings as the customer leaves, and I feel relieved. It’s been a few days since we’ve started implementing our plans to bring in customers. We’ve had a few, but not nearly enough to make the difference we’re hoping to make.

  I found some paint in my dad’s garage and spent a sweaty day in the sun brightening up the exterior. It looks like a place you might actually want to come to now, and not like a building that’s falling apart. It’s a small step, but a good one. We placed small ads in local shopping circulars. Nothing that will break the bank, but enough to get some visibility. I also started up some social media pages hoping that pictures of pretty pastries might draw people in.

  But the fact of the matter is, location, location, location is a phrase for a reason, and we’re not in a good one. Some of the stuff I’ve been posting on the web have had good responses, but an equal amount said something along the lines of ‘I wish you weren’t so far away!’

  It’s frustrating. But I keep a smile on my face for Dad’s sake. He’s so hopeful that I can’t bear to disappoint him. It’s not what he needs, but I’ll give it a few more days.

  Thomas and I haven’t stopped texting even though we haven’t seen each other again. It started with those three texts, and I didn’t respond, so he sent some more. I asked some questions about the loan, and he sent me more sexy texts. Every one he sent riled me up more, and last night I gave in. I texted him back something sexy. My hands in my panties gave me a perfectly adequate orgasm, but it was nothing compared to the other night. And even though I shouldn’t, I want more.

  Like he’s reading my thoughts, my phone buzzes in my back pocket. It’s a text, but it’s not just a text. It’s a picture of him, lying in bed, shirtless.

  Home for the day.

  A second picture comes through. This time his chest and hips. My body heats up a few degrees because he’s clearly naked.

  Thinking about you.

  The third picture comes through. It’s a picture of his hand wrapped around his cock, which is rock hard.

  Send me something to help me out?

  It makes me smile in spite of myself. I text him back.

  Don’t you know it’s rude to send dick pics?

  The phone buzzes almost immediately.

  After everything we texted last night I thought it was expected.

  He’s got a point.

  What do you want to see?

  All of you.

  I can’t believe I’m actually considering this. But I am. I’ve never sent a nude photo before, and the thought of Thomas sitting on that beautiful bed and jerking off to a picture of me is so hot that I want to drive over and join him. Except that my car still won’t start. Dammit.

  I go to the office and close the door. My father is so engrossed in perfecting his latest glaze that he won’t come looking, and Fiona is out on an errand. I lean against the door and pull up my shirt, take a quick shot of my bra and send it back.

  My phone buzzes.

  You can do better than that, sweetheart.

  Okay. I pull up my shirt again, and this time pull my bra up over my chest so I can hide it from the camera. This is turning me on—I can feel the tingling wetness gathering. I angle the phone camera down my body and I put my hand down my jeans. I’m tempted to get myself off right now. It wouldn’t take long. But the risk of getting caught is too high. I snap the picture and send it. Buzz.

  Fuck, baby. Yes.

  There are no more buzzes, and the fact that I know he’s getting off to me right now is driving me mad. The bell on the door jingles, and I hurry to fix my clothes.

  “Rosie?” My sister calls, pushing the door open just as I finish rearranging my shirt. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Wardrobe malfunction. Had to adjust my bra.”

  She nods. “I get that. Any customers?”

  I wince. “One.”

  “This isn’t working,” she says. “We can’t up the revenue if we never sell anything. The problem is that people just can’t find it. No one but the local neighborhood comes to this shopping center. It’s so hard to find if you’re not looking for it. It’s hard to find even if you are looking for it.”

  I sigh. “I know, but it’s not like we can change that.” With the amount of money that my father is in debt, there’s no way we can move locations. We can only hope that in the next few days the circulars and social medi
a will kick in and get us some customers. Fiona and I also have plans to make up some signs to put up outside that might catch the few people driving by. If school were in session that might be more effective. With kids not going by to school, we’re losing a potentially huge customer base.

  It’s almost closing time, and since there’s probably not anyone coming in, it actually saves money to close up shop early. “I’ll stay for dinner tonight,” Fiona says. “Maybe help you get started on those signs.”

  “I’m exhausted,” I say. “I probably won’t work on them till tomorrow, but dinner for sure.”

  Dinner is great, and all I want to do is take a shower and go to sleep, but Fiona is lingering. It’s fine, and it’s good to spend time with her, but I’m just so worn out from the day that I’m silently praying that she leaves soon. My phone buzzes and I check it. It’s Thomas.

  I want to see you.

  The text is like a bolt of energy to the system. Suddenly I’m not tired. But there’s no way that I’ll be able to see him with Fiona here.

  I can’t right now.

  Buzz.

  Are you sure? The picture wasn’t enough.

  Ugh. Low blow.

  Jerk. At least you got to come.

  Buzz.

  I’m nearby. I could fix that.

  I glance towards the living room. My dad and Fiona are still talking. I suppose it’s possible. I make a split-second decision. One entirely based on déjà vu.

  Park that fancy-ass car a few blocks away and meet me outside. NOT by the front door.

  Putting my phone in my pocket I step into the living room. “I’m completely wiped out, so I’m going to head to bed,” I say. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

  “Sure thing, dear. Love you,” my dad says.

  Fiona nods. “Tomorrow. We’ll finish the signs.”

  I’m not going to bed. I grab a blanket, and I do what I did most nights in high school. I lock my bedroom door behind me and less than gracefully tumble out the window. Only this time I nearly collide with Thomas Logan.

  8

  There’s a certain symmetry to our collision. When I snuck out to meet him that night ten years ago, we didn’t meet here, but I have that same feeling of anticipation.

  “I wasn’t quite expecting that exit,” he says, laughing.

  I’m having a hard time containing my own giggles. “I’m sneaking out.”

  “I can see that. Any particular reason?”

  I don’t really want to get into the whole thing about my sister and his brother, so I blame it on my dad. “I’m not sure how my father would take it if he knew I was fucking the man who is basically controlling his future.”

  “You have a point.”

  I grab his hand. “Come on. No point in getting caught talking outside the window.”

  My childhood home is on the edge of town, and I’ve snuck out to meet more than one boyfriend. This situation has a certain nostalgia to it. There’s some no man’s land property not far from the house, perfect for stargazing, kissing, or in this case, a desperately needed hookup.

  “Where are we going?” Thomas asks as I climb over a fence into the field.

  “Stargazing,” I say, throwing a smirk over my shoulder.

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t find our way to the back seat of a car?”

  I laugh under my breath. “That didn’t end so well for us last time. I want a happy ending.”

  He climbs the fence after me, and I realize this is the first time I’ve seen him in jeans. They hug his ass in a way that makes me even more eager to get where we’re going. There’s a hill in the middle of the field that’s covered with shorter grass and has a good view of the surrounding area. I spread the blanket out on the top of the hill and I’m about to sit down when Thomas stops me. “I believe I said that the next time I’d be on my knees.”

  Heat drops to my core, and I don’t say anything as he kneels in front of me. Carefully, he undoes the buttons on my jeans and peels them off me. My panties follow and I shiver in the light breeze. Thomas presses his lips to my stomach, and then his mouth moves lower. Lower. His fingers part my folds and his mouth follows. I gasp, and my knees go weak. I’ve been ready for this for a long time, and it’s so good. His mouth seals over my clit and sucks gently, pulling streaks of pleasure toward it from everywhere in my body.

  His tongue circles me and strokes across my clit and down to my pussy. Gripping my thighs, he pulls me more firmly against his mouth, and I have to hold onto his shoulders for support. He’s teasing me. Drawing patterns with his tongue that make my hips jerk but don’t send me over the edge. “Please,” I say to him. “I need this.”

  Without a word, he reaches up grabbing me around the waist and lowering me onto the blanket. I thought it was good before, but now, it’s explosive. Thomas feasts on me like a starving man, his mouth consuming me. He’s changed his pattern, and now the rhythmic movement of his tongue on my clit has me hovering on the precipice. I reach down and run my fingers through his hair, gripping and pulling his mouth harder against me. I love it. This was worth the wait and I never want it to stop.

  I’m close, so close, and he runs his tongue across all of me, circling, sucking, and back again. His teeth scrape my clit, and I go over the edge, falling into a deep and shuddering orgasm that goes on for what feels like hours. My pussy floods his mouth and he laps it up, drinking me, still licking me so that the pleasure keeps going.

  There’s a trace of moonlight, and when he pulls away from me there’s the sheen of my juices on his mouth. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything so erotic. I pull him up so he’s on top of me and start working on his buttons. “You’re in a hurry,” he murmurs.

  I pause for a second and look up at him. “Yes, I am. I want you inside me. Now.”

  “How can I say no to that?” He strips off his shirt and pants and I get rid of the rest of my clothes. We come back together naked and I take the condom from him, relishing the feel of his cock in my hand as I roll it on. He pushes my legs up, and I’m bent almost in half. He slides into me and I groan. It’s loud in the open field and I bite my lip against the sound. The way he’s pushing into me feels so good, and the angle with my legs gives him all the control.

  Thomas uses short, fast thrusts, angling up, and light suddenly explodes behind my eyes. I come again, hard and fast, and I hear his low laugh as he slows down his pace and thrusts in deeper. “That was good,” I say.

  That smirk on his face is back. “I know.”

  I can’t speak after that. I try to keep the sounds I’m making from calling anyone’s attention—not that I’m expecting anyone—but it’s hard, because Thomas doesn’t hold back. He’s fucking me like it’s his job to make me come. Long, sure strokes driving me back to the peak, and there’s no chance of me keeping quiet this time. He still has control of my legs and he spreads them wide, his palms on my thighs. The stretch makes me tighter around him, and my back arches off the blanket because holy fuck. The friction of him inside me has me drowning in that pleasure just at the edge and I love it. My hands are searching for anything to hold on to and I find blanket and grass and then I’m crying out into the open air.

  The orgasm rips through me, brutal and overwhelming. I go blind with it, my body going tense and then limp with the pleasure. And I’m reveling in the delicious pleasure of it as he keeps going, so close. He grinds himself against me and another tiny orgasm zings through my clit before he buries himself deep inside me with a stifled groan. I feel his cock jump inside, and I know he came. I’m dazed with pleasure, and I’m not sure if all the stars that I’m seeing are real or just sparkling aftershocks.

  Thomas rolls beside me, holding me close. It’s not cold, but the body heat is welcome. “Better?” he asks.

  “Much.”

  We don’t say anything for a few minutes, catching our breath.

  “So,” he starts. “How are things at the bakery?”

  “Not as good as I’d like,” I say, still a
bit winded. “I just don’t know if we can have the kind of improvement that your father is looking for by the time we need it. Honestly, most of it is things that we can’t control.”

  I tell him about the complaints of our distance from the towns more popular areas, the lack of students, the fact that the building is hard to find even if you’re looking for it with a magnifying glass. “It doesn’t look good,” I finish.

  “There’s still a chance,” he says, and then, after a moment, “And how are you?”

  “I’m fine,” I say. It’s more a reflex than anything, but it’s true.

  His fingers run down my side and I like the ripples they send across my skin. “You don’t talk about yourself much. I’ve noticed.”

  “There’s not much to tell. Besides, there are more pressing matters than my personal life.”

  Thomas turns on his side, and suddenly I feel cradled. I don’t mind the feeling. “You need to take care of yourself too, or you won’t be able to help anyone.”

  “I do take care of myself—I came out to meet you, didn’t I? And Fiona is a nurse. She makes sure that I eat.”

  He makes a small noise of disapproval. “You haven’t gotten your car fixed yet.”

  “It’s fine. I just have Dad drive me.”

  “Don’t you think you’d be more help right now if you had your own car? How do you plan on getting back to New York?”

  I honestly hadn’t thought about it. I suppose he’s right. I do need to think about myself a little more. I can’t sacrifice my health or happiness for the bakery. Even though I know I would justify it as sacrificing it for my father’s happiness. “I’ll fix it.”

  “Good. I’ll send you to my mechanic. He’ll make sure everything is running smoothly.”

  I snuggle in a little closer. “I should get back to the house.”

  “Should?” he asks.

  “I’m very comfortable.”

 

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