Prince's Secret Baby

by Riley Rollins

  Tess looks distraught. "Please excuse him," she says to the hipster. "He can be… difficult."

  "I think it's time for us to go," the guy says, and he returns to his table, which has been watching us all along. They get up and shuffle out the door.

  I take off my apron, toss it on the counter, and go to the backroom to cool off. But Tess follows me.

  "Damnit, Hunter. You just can't act like that. You're going to sabotage everything."

  I grab a jar of pickles off the stock shelf, pop it open, and put a long spear in my mouth. I crunch it up. "I can't hear you."

  "This isn't funny."

  I tip the jar against my lips, drinking the pickle juice until the jar is dry.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Rebelling against authority."

  "That much pickle juice will kill you!"

  I grab a second jar, crack it open, and start to drink the brine before Tess grabs it out of my hands. "These are for sandwiches!"

  "Sandwiches don't matter when you're dead."

  "But you're not dead!"

  "Well, I'm trying to kill myself here."

  She shakes her head and stomps her foot, and a little cloud of flour puffs up from the kitchen floor. "You take things too far."

  "I have to entertain myself somehow."

  I can tell she's about to get borderline mad, and I groan. "Fine. I'm just messing with you."

  "Maybe you should mess around less. I know this is a game for you, but it's not for me. This is my future. My livelihood."

  I groan. This is a good reminder why I'm only cut out to be a killer SEAL, or to disappear to Alaska where I don't have to deal with people's shit. I just don't have the patience.

  Later that afternoon, when Tess cools off and the shop empties out before our 5 p.m. closing time, a younger girl comes in by herself. She wears a headscarf, maybe Egyptian or Indian or some shit, and a very fluttery, flowing dress. In other words, a total hippie.

  Tess and Jason are cleaning up in the back. I groan internally but manage to keep my shit together on the outside. I'm fucking positive she's going to want a coffee too and then ream me out when it doesn't live up to her exact expectations.

  Instead, she gives me a look like she's sizing me up, and if I weren't the kind of man to give zero fucks, it might actually throw me.

  "Can I help you?" I ask.

  "A dozen rainbow bagels and a pint of rainbow cream cheese, please. To go." She smiles sweetly at me, and she seems to have an old soul. Her voice is fluttery as fuck. It sounds the way she looks.

  "I don't have a dozen left. And I don't have a full pint of cream cheese."

  "Could you make some more, maybe?'

  "Listen, woman," I start, but she interrupts.

  "Referring to me as 'woman' is sexist."

  Ah, geez. One of those. I'm about to open my big fat mouth again, but if I piss off any more customers, the chances of me getting laid with Tess are going to drop to damn near zero. I pull myself back from the brink.

  I call in someone else to deal with this. "Jason," I bark, and the girl blinks with surprise as my voice booms out. "Get in here."

  He comes out from the back a minute later. He looks at the girl, and his gaze drops to the floor before he acknowledges me.

  "Kid," I say, "this girl needs a dozen and a pint. Can you make that happen in the next twenty minutes?"

  He grins awkwardly and stuffs his hands in his pockets. The girl blinks and smiles at him. "I, uh…"

  "Spit it out," I say.

  "Yeah. I'll do that for you," he says to the girl, but I notice he still doesn't make eye contact with her. "I don't mind doing it for you."

  I chuckle and stoke my chin. "Somebody's got a crush," I say.

  Both Jason and the girl blush.

  "What's your name?" I ask her.

  "Crystal."

  "Well, Crystal, Jason here is going to make you your bagels and cream cheese. And maybe you should give him your number. He's not as dumb as he looks."

  There's an awkward silence. "Just joking," I say. "Nobody's as dumb as he looks."

  The ice is broken, and everyone laughs. "Seriously," I say. "You look like you'd go well together. So… do something."

  Crystal smiles at Jason. "Wait here," I tell the girl. I follow Jason into the back.

  "Kid, why the hell are you acting like a pussy around the girl?"

  "She's really pretty," he says, loading a big ball of dough into the hopper.

  "Didn't you ever learn how to talk to women?"

  "I guess not."

  I shake my head. "I'm gonna have to do something with you."

  "It's fine," he says. "They never seem to be interested in me."

  "That's 'cause you dress like a slob and you spend more time looking at your own feet than in their damn eyes."

  "I'm just shy."

  "Kid," I say, "I'm going to fix your fucking wagon. Make those damn bagels and get her number. We'll talk about this later."

  13

  Tess

  A week passes and business gets better than I ever thought possible. Word of our rainbow bagels spreads around the region, and we have lines down the block every single day of the week.

  As much as Hunter frustrates me, I can't deny that he's been here for me. He deserves a good beating for his lack of customer service skills, but he's just as happy to work in the back with Jason and let me deal with the counter. On the couple occasions an unruly customer has disrupted the shop, he came to my side in an instant.

  Okay, so I can't deny I'm attracted to him. I've tried to pretend I'm completely over him, but there's just no use. Every day at the shop I find myself stealing glances at him as he passes, admiring how handsome his face is, how well he fills out his clothes. I can't help that I squeeze my thighs together when I think about him. And I can't help thinking back to how protective he was when we ran into Roger at the Home Depot. It made me think about being together with him, and I can't lie, I liked the way it felt.

  And it was sweet of him to cover my shift this afternoon so I could drive in to Springville for a pedicure.

  "Don't wear heels tonight if you can help it," says the pedicurist as she finishes the polish on my toenails. She gives my soles a good, final rub, and it feels like heaven. I've spent more time on my feet this last week than in the previous two months combined. This was a much-needed respite.

  "If only I had a hot date tonight," I joke to the pedicurist.

  "Aren't you married to that guy?"

  My jaw drops. I'm one whole city over, and still people ask me about Hunter. "You know too?" I ask, exasperated.

  She smiles, wrapping up the pedicure. "You're the one with the new bagel shop in Maple Ridge, right? You're practically a minor celebrity. And I've seen pictures of your husband. He's hot as hell."

  I blush. "Thanks."

  "I'd wear heels every night if I were married to a man like that. Fuck-me heels."

  I laugh. "Inappropriate."

  But I can't lie, I like the mental image.

  Good thing my nail polish won't harden until tomorrow. That way there can be no temptation to put on fuck-me heels.

  "So good of you to join me," says Hunter from behind the counter as I enter the shop.

  I can't help grinning at the sight. Hunter Thorne, ripped Navy SEAL, is running the shop all by himself. Fresh trays of bagels for the evening rush sit on the counter, their swirls running into one another, forming a rainbow mass of deliciousness. Hunter's apron has streaks of rainbow cream cheese running across it, and his normally slick hair falls to the side, tousled. Like he's a stud who's been working hard all day.

  "Well, look at you," I say with a smile.

  "Damn, woman," says Hunter, brushing his hair off his forehead. "That better have been a damn good pedicure, because I've been busting my balls all afternoon to operate your business."

  "Oh, so now it's my business?" I say, taking my purse off my shoulder. I duck under the counter and chuck it in the cubby tha
t holds our personal stuff. "Let's see if you did this right."

  I grab a bagel from the nearest tray, pull it apart, and stuff a piece into my mouth.

  It tastes good. Not like a huge pile of chemicals like I was worried about. Damn. Hunter's getting good at this. I don't know what I'm going to do when he's gone. Jason makes a good addition to the team, but he's still just a kid.

  "Okay," I say. "I guess you did okay."

  Hunter smirks, pulling his apron over his head. His t-shirt accidentally lifts up in the process, and I get a glimpse at his smooth, hard abs. "I did more than okay."

  "So confident."

  "You owe me."

  "Oh, really?" I say. "And what do I owe you?"

  He gets a glint in his eyes. "A blowjob would make up for it."

  Butterflies dance in my stomach. I know I should be horrified at how blunt he is, especially after I've told him in no uncertain terms that I'm not interested.

  But I am. I am fucking interested. I want to get to know his body again, to see every detail of how it's changed after all these years. I want to feel his hard cock in my fist again, to feel how it stretches out my lips when I put it in my mouth. I want all of that.

  He grins at me, thinking he's getting under my skin, but I'm going to show him I can give shit right back to him.

  "So a fake wife gives a fake blowjob to her fake husband, right?"

  His grin becomes a little more tentative, and he casts a sideways glance at the one table of customers sitting by the window. He lowers his voice. "I, uh…"

  "You just expect me to drop down on my knees for my fake husband?" I think I see a bulge growing in his pants.

  He leans in and speaks under his breath, like a growl. "I expect to shove you down to your knees by that ponytail, and I expect you to take what I have to give you."

  A fresh wave of sexual possibility zips through my body, and my thighs involuntarily tighten with excitement. "And you expect this to happen right here and now?"

  Hunter jerks his thumb toward the back. "Not in front of customers, right?" He grabs my hand and pulls me around the corner with him, into the kitchen and out of sight of the customers. I warily eye the unlocked back door. It's Jason's day off, but he's made a habit of popping in unannounced. I normally love an employee with initiative, but right now I hope he's at home playing video games in his underwear.

  Hunter shoves me up against the white brick wall, pressing his hard, muscled body against me. He pins me down, putting a hand on either side of my head against the wall, and he gazes into my eyes. I could get lost in his stare. In fact, I think I'm already lost in it.

  "Okay," I say breathlessly, "I guess I'll do my womanly duty. You earned it."

  Hunter cocks his head. "This isn't a transaction. Do it because you fucking need it more than anything."

  I draw in a sharp breath. I feel like I have to remind myself to consciously breathe, and if I forget to remind myself, I might just stop breathing altogether. I squirm against his powerful arms, but he moves them in tighter, preventing me from moving. I feel like a piece of property, a fuck toy, and I like it. I haven't felt this way in years.

  "I want it," I whisper. "I want to suck your cock on my knees."

  He leans in against my ear, and I feel his scruffy cheek brush against me. My core throbs with desire as his chiseled body eclipses mine. "Put those hot little lips on my cock," he says. "Suck your husband's cock in your restaurant."

  I drop to my knees on the dirty kitchen floor, my mind racing a million miles an hour. I know this is a mistake, and I don't know what's wrong with me for wanting to give myself to him, but I don't care. I want this right now.

  I tug his brass zipper down with a jerk and I slide my thumb into his jeans. I run it up and down the length of the zipper, stroking his hard cock through his boxers. He lets out a quiet groan, and I hope the sound doesn't make it around the corner to the dining area. If word gets out that Tess Cassidy sucks her husband's cock in the kitchen of the Rainbow Café, there will be no more business at all. And the health inspector… I can't even think about that right now.

  I work my hand all the way through the hole in his boxers and make skin-to-skin contact with him for the first time. The surface of his cock feels smooth as silk in my hands, but underneath the surface it's hard as hell. Just like I remember. He cups his fingers under my chin and tilts my head up as I thumb the underside of his cock, and he grins down at me. "Put it in your fucking mouth," he commands.

  I wrap my fingers all the way around his shaft, almost too big for my tiny hand. I pull it out of his pants, marveling at how big and thick it is. A drop of pre-cum glistens on the tip of his cock. I place the tip of my tongue at the base of his shaft and draw it slowly toward the tip, until I lap the clear fluid off of him. My whole body aches with a need that I didn't know I possessed anymore.

  He strokes his thumb against my cheek, encouraging me. I feel like such a fucking dirty slut here on the floor of my restaurant with a cock in my hand, but I wouldn't change a thing about it.

  I dip my head down, plunging his cock into my mouth, twisting my hand over his shaft. He groans in pleasure as I work him. His heat radiates through my mouth and I feel my cheeks burn red. I fucking love it, but I ache with need.

  "Touch yourself," he says. It takes me aback. I've never done something like that before. But I try not to overthink it. Instead, I slip my free hand down my pants and into my panties. My sex is hot and wet, and I run a finger along my wetness before moving it onto my clit. I lick, suck, and jerk Hunter with my mouth and my left hand as I touch myself with my right hand.

  "Fuck, girl," he grunts under his breath. "You're the fucking best there is. Fuck, I missed this."

  I want more. His cock tastes so good in my mouth, but I want more. I want him to strip me naked, to lay me out for him on the counter. I want him to fuck my pussy, to make me filthy in this kitchen. But it's all too much at once, and I'm scared to ask for it.

  "Tess," Hunter groans, "I'm so fucking close, babe."

  I let out a sigh of approval, and I take my hand out of my pants so I can work him with two hands at once. My clit throbs in protest. When I get home tonight, I'm going to have the most epic session with my vibrator that the world has ever seen.

  Looking up at Hunter, I nod. I take my lips off his cock just long enough to encourage him. "Go on," I say. "Fucking do it." Then I plunge his cock back in my mouth.

  He holds my ponytail tight in his hands, but the pain excites me. He thrusts his hips forward and I love every detail of his instincts. "I'm fucking coming," he says.

  He explodes in my mouth, giving me everything he has to offer. I love the way his cock pulses in my mouth, and I love the warmth that zips from my throat down my spine. I close my eyes and swallow him, squeezing his cock as tight as I can to milk him completely dry.

  When he finishes, I clean the tip of his cock with my tongue, and sit back on my knees, breathing heavily. He reaches down and pulls me up to him, and I lose myself again in his gorgeous eyes.

  I lean my head against his shoulder, and I feel like I'm melting into him. I'm feeling way too many emotions right now for a casual hook-up between a fake husband and a fake wife.

  Fuck. This is getting very complicated.

  14

  Hunter

  I breathe hard. Tess snuggles her head into my shoulder and I put an arm around her. It feels fucking strange. I'm not used to getting all touchy-feely with women after they blow me. But this brought back all kinds of memories I thought were long gone.

  Ever since I ran into Tess at the Red Lion, I've been trying to get my cock wet. But I never seriously thought that a simple fucking blowjob would come with so many feelings.

  Once I realize what I'm fucking doing, I take my hand off her. I zip up my cock in my pants again, and I try to suppress the part of me that says to pull her in close, to treat her right, and to kiss those lips even though they were just on my cock. Instead, I conjure up the part of me that says
to blow this all off, to put it in its own separate compartment where it can stay so I don't have to fucking think about it.

  "How was that?" asks Tess, looking up into my eyes. Her face practically sparkles, and I fucking like that she glows just from sucking my cock. I can't deny that the girl makes me feel like a fucking god.

  I force a grin. "It was good, but I'm gonna need to try it out again to be sure."

  She holds back a laugh and lightly slaps me on the shoulder. Her Ms. Tough Girl shit-giving attitude is gone now that she got on her knees for me. "What if it's one-time only?"

  "We're married," I remind her with a wink. "You're on the hook, wife."

  "Oh really?"

  I'm getting hard again. I place her hand on my once-again hardening cock. She palms it through the denim.

  "You want me to blow you again?"

  I lean in close. "I want to fuck you until you can't walk straight."

  She nearly gasps. "In here, right now?"

  In answer, I shove her against the counter and turn her around so her ass presses against me. She grinds against me, and our instincts take over.

  I yank her jeans down, and my cock hardens into pure fucking iron at the sight of her gorgeous, feminine bare ass pressing into me. I free my cock again, and slide it down her skin, searching for her opening.

  Then I find it, and I slip inside her, my hands finding her breasts.

  "Holy fucking shit," she gasps, as I pump in and out of her. "Oh my fucking god."

  I pound into her with a primal need. She feels better than I ever remembered, better than I imagined in my wildest fantasies.

  She reaches around, pulling my ass into her, forcing me to go deeper. We knock some pots and pans off the counter, and they clang to the ground.

  "The customers," she breathes. I clasp a hand over her mouth. I shush her. "Don't fucking think about anything except my cock right now."

  She pushes into me, and my hands explore her body. Her stomach, her breasts beneath her shirt. Everything I haven't been able to keep my eyes off since I first saw her.