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Forced To Kill The Prince

Page 79

by Hollie Hutchins


  And yeah. I really need to ask Ash or Garion at some point to get me some enchanted wings. Or just let me fly on their backs.

  That would be nice.

  Kidnapped By A Wolf

  ~ Bonus Story ~

  A Super-Steamy Werewolf Shifter Romance

  That’s what everyone told me when I decided to leave my job downtown New-York to go live in Midvale.

  But that’s okay. I’m doing it for me. I’m opening this bakery because it has always been my dream.

  For now, everything is good under the Midvale sun. I mean, it could be better but it isn’t bad. There’s this weird guy called Ricky that makes me a bit uncomfortable. I wish he wouldn’t hang around the bakery so much but a customer is a customer, I suppose. I would probably feel better if he actually bought something, though.

  Fortunately, Lupe is one of the positives of this town. I feel something strong coming from him and I can’t help thinking about him. There’s something different about him and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t into his rounded features and defined muscles.

  I like this town. My coworkers were all wrong. There’s nothing boring about Midvale. The best secrets are hiding in smaller towns…

  * * *

  CHAPTER 1 – Open for business

  My mouth is salivating at the scent of freshly baked croissants floating about the bakery. This is what my dreams smell like. I never imagined I could be this happy just inhaling the scent of melting butter, flour, and eggs. Taking the croissants out of the oven, I start piling them in their respective spot in the display but I leave the glass open on my side. They’re still so warm that if I dare to close it entirely, there’s going to be condensation forming on the glass of the display. Once I’m done with this little task, I make my way to the counter and repeat the operation. I think I’ll go for bread this time. Or maybe I should start on the pastries? No, they’re the easiest. Bread takes much longer to bake in the oven and since I’ve just opened, I don’t have a lot of ovens yet. I need to think about what my customers will want the most. I’ve only got two and I want to make sure I can bake everything I need for the grand opening in a few hours.

  9 o’clock and I’ve just finished my last batch of donuts. I now have to let them rest on the counter for 20 minutes before I can even think about decorating them. Time to turn the sign on the door from closed to open. I’m excited, this is my first day as a new baker in this town. Already, there are 3 or 4 people waiting to get in. They were probably attracted by the scent of my freshly cooked pastries. I unlock the door and welcome them in with a bright smile. There’s no way someone could be as proud as I am right now. I truly do not miss the carbon monoxide smelling streets of New York. When I open the door, the only thing I can smell is the perfume of my bakery and the freshness of the wind. Midvale is already doing wonders on my mood.

  Hours pass and the customers succeed each other, so much that by noon, I already have to bake new batches of bread and croissants. They are really popular, they were sold-out within the first hour! And back to my oven I am, shoveling batches of baguettes and bagels for the customers that keep piling in. One of them has been in the boutique since the beginning but has yet to buy anything. I try not to give it any attention. As far as I’m concerned, I chose this town because their last bakery closed last year due to the owner’s old age and no grandson or granddaughter to pick up the business. It was a safe choice since I wouldn’t have any competition…but who is that guy and why does he keep looking at me like that? Isn’t he here for my goods or is he just looking around without any intention of buying anything? I decide to take the matters into my own hands. Once I’m done with the last batch of bagels, I pick a baguette, cut it in half and walk over to the man.

  “Good afternoon, sir. Would you like to have a sample before deciding what you’d like?” He doesn’t say anything. He simply stares at me with the biggest and most unsettling grin I’ve ever seen. I see him take a whiff and at first, I think it’s because of the bread but the more I think about it, the more I feel like I am the one he is actually trying to smell. I don’t say a word and paralyze on the spot. Is he the famous ‘crazy of the village’ that everyone talks about in cliché village novels? He sure looks the part. Without a word, the man turns on his heels and leave the premises, leaving me utterly confused and a bit frozen. I can feel something like prickles of ice sliding down the length of my spine. There is also something else I feel but I can’t put my finger on it. It’s…strange. While I am completely frozen by Ricky’s attitude, I feel like my loins are shaken by little sparks, it’s really weird. It’s almost as if I am excited? But it makes no sense!

  It’s another customer that breaks me out of my thoughts. He looks like a middle-aged man and he’s wearing a flannel blouse, a cap that barely hides his balding, and a smile where yellow teeth and missing spots work together to give him more character. He looks…charming, to say the least.

  “Sorry, ma'am. This guy be Ricky. He ain’t a talkative guy but he’s a good joe, y’know?” A good joe? I have no idea what that means but I figure it’s a saying that means he’s a good guy. Just a bit weird.

  “Ah, I see. Well, I was a bit intimidated since he was just looking at me like that and not saying anything. Thank you for reassuring me, for a moment I almost thought he didn’t like me! It’s not easy moving to a new town. It was probably just my anxiety speaking!” I add with a soft smile, feeling already a little more relaxed. It has probably everything to do with the fact that Ricky was out of the place. My customer offers me a greasy laugh before making his way over the display, where a line of customers has gathered already. I need to get back to work, I can’t let that incident disturb me any longer.

  Finally, after a long day of work, I can close the doors and count my recipes. I did amazing for the first day and while I know this would never follow up the same in the next day, I guess I can already count myself lucky I made such a good impression on the townspeople. I put the key in the lock and make my way back home to this lovely little house I bought with my savings. It isn’t really a big place and there’s barely enough space for me and my dog but it’s warm and homely, and I like it as it is. It’ll take me a while to make it look like how I envisioned it but I’m not afraid of the challenge.

  I sink into a warm bath and start massaging my feet. These have been running left and right today and they totally deserved a little break in the warm water. I knead between my toes, rub my fist against my soles and rotate my ankles before sinking my feet underwater for maximum relaxation. Thinking about the events of the day, I cannot help recollecting what happened with Ricky. This time, the tingling in the small of my back returns with full strength, leaving me completely taken aback. I feel my heartbeat in my most intimate places and it’s like a wave of heat crashing over me, overwhelming all of my senses. I release a shaky gasp as I close my thighs and try to squirm the feeling out of my veins but nothing seems to work. Thinking I might be getting a fever because I’m exhausted, I decide to get out of the bath and go to sleep. Tomorrow is another day and my night is going to be short. I have to be up by 4 again if I want to be ready by 9. I go to bed with that strange heat still rushing through my system and I spend most of the night trying to work it out of my system through various means. Some…more questionable than others.

  * * *

  * * *

  CHAPTER 2 – Lupe

  The alarm on my phone wakes me up again at the crack of dawn and even if I do not believe I’ve had enough sleep, I put on my big girl pants and make my way to the bakery. I’m still half-asleep and having pillow marks on my face when I turned the key in the lock and opened the lights. To help me, I made myself a huge cup of coffee and started piling my ingredients on the counter. Flour, eggs, butter, sugar, salt and anything else to make the most amazing croissants, bagels, baguettes, and pastries. I start with the croissants since they’re the most popular and prepare four batches instead of 3. The opening day showed me how popular they were in this tow
n and I certainly do not want to tell another customer to wait because there is a batch in the oven.

  9 am arrives a lot faster than I expected and I’m still only midway through my second batch of donuts. I hope there won’t be a frenzy similar to yesterday because I might have to consider getting another employee on the floor with me sooner than later. I don’t want to have to think about getting someone to help me just yet.

  Smiling as my first customers come in and leave with bags full of croissants and fresh bread, I get back behind my oven for the production of the afternoon. Again, it’s a pretty eventful morning, all things considered. People come and go and I start to wonder if it’s going to be like this every day. Not that I mind! In fact, I’m more than happy to see that my business is doing so well in its first week. If this is indication enough of what the future has in reserve for me then moving here was definitely the right decision!

  Once I’m done with the next batch of donut, I allow myself a short break. The place is still bustling with customers looking over the menu but at least, I have more than enough time to myself to drink some water and sit back a little. 20 minutes later, it’s the first time my boutique is empty since I’ve opened it the day before. I am thinking about preparing myself a lunch when I hear the front doorbell ring. “ Welcom- Welcome to the bakery, may I help you today, sir?” It’s that same guy from the day before. The one who just stared at her silently and didn’t say anything. I try not to let it bother me but just seeing him makes me feel weird, uncomfortable. There he is pretending he is looking at the menu but he’s still only staring at me like I am something on the menu. Again, I try to not let it bother me. I move around to another task with a little “Let me know if you need help!” Thrown out there. I’m so destabilized that my stomach twist in a knot and my hunger is all but vanished.

  “Sure.” Wow, did he finally say something? His voice is rough, much like his exterior. There’s something a bit creepy about him and honestly, he’s starting to scare me. Scare me so much that I want nothing more than to shove him out of my bakery with a broom attack! Turning around, I face him, only to notice that he’s still staring at me like some sort of crush-obsessed weirdo. I suddenly find myself unable to think about anything else than murder. I feel overwhelmed with unprecedented anger and I can feel my very soul vibrating to my desire to tear his throat out. I know this is wrong, he’s only been staring at me but I want to see his blood and taste it on my tongue. Like a visceral need to make him disappear from my sight, no matter how violent I have to become to achieve that. Instead, I decide to beat some eggs and prepare a mix for the next batch of bread. Still, until he’s finally out of the boutique, again without buying anything, I cannot shake away this fury that burns within my very core. I’ve never felt this overwhelmed in my whole life and I can already tell that I’m about to ban this customer from my boutique. This might not be too good for business, though. I have to calm down. I cannot be this irresponsible on my first week, after all. Even if the guy is creepy and doesn’t talk much, even if he only enters the boutique to look at me, I can deal with that. I have to deal with that.

  The doorbell rings again as I roll the dough between my fingers, kneading it to the best of my ability. “Welcome in! I’ll be with you in a moment!” I’m still shaking but thankfully, the sensation of dough between my fingers and the smell of flour calms me down. This is why I love working in a bakery, it’s just that soothing for me. Once I’m done with this dough, I turn around to welcome my customer properly and God, am I relieved to see such a handsome, warm face. “Hi, my name’s Lupe and I was told a good bakery opened in town.” My heart is melting and my eyes are scotched to that Crest smile. Lupe’s tall, muscular, tanned, handsome, polite and he looks at me with eyes that look about ready to undress me. If I was furious moments ago, now I can feel heat seep under my skin and spread across my cheeks.

  I’m blushing furiously by the time I realize he’s actually talked to me. I’m embarrassed but I finally stop just looking at him. “Ah, yes! It’s me. I mean, it’s my bakery. What” I Cough” What can I do to help you today, Lupe? And I’m Sophie, a pleasure to meet you.” My face is burning. I can see his eyes lighten up as he notices my embarrass and my heart is thumping wildly. Even in some places I didn’t want it to thump, for a customer. Am I going to hell? Most likely. Still, I can’t help how my sex-drive is through the roof just upon looking at him. I bite my lip and he stares at me funnily but suddenly, his gaze seems full of understanding. Uh oh. I can’t be that transparent, right? Or is he good enough to have me figured out so fast? My heart starts beating 20 thousand miles an hour as his smile stretches. I see flashes of myself running my fingers through his hair, holding his shoulders and my face contorted in ecstasy. I blink and see myself riding him shamelessly and my embarrass probably became even more apparent. A little chuckle escaped him.

  “You know, I came in here to find bread but I think I found something better. You and I are going dinner tonight.” What? Did he just decide that by himself? I feel like I’m going to pass out with how he’s looking at me. “Alright. I take it you invite?” I try my best to look confident but I can’t help twisting a brown lock between my fingers nervously. I want to jump on him, that’s the only thing I can think about right now. He laughs again and his smile brightens even more if that’s possible. I hate his guts- no that’s a lie. I love this far too much for my own good. “Ottavio, 7 pm. Don’t be late, Sophie.” The way he says my name as every hair on my body stand on end and shivers raking down my spine. An array of sparks blossoms in my loins. I’m set ablaze with uncontained fire and the flames are threatening to devour me whole, starting by my face. I let my green eyes lock on him as confidently as I can muster and reply a small “You’re the one that better not be late” before watching his broad shoulders pass the door of the bakery.

  What kind of reply was that? I’m fucked. Why did I have to go and say that? Fortunately, it seemed like he didn’t pay much heed but I’m still completely stunned. I’ve never been this speechless for a man before but I can’t help how my ovaries reacted to him. It was like a call of nature and it never happened to me before. Thinking about it, I’ve never thought about murder either. What is wrong with me, today?

  * * *

  * * *

  CHAPTER 3 – Dinner date

  The rest of the day is passed in a kind of haze where I answer the customers’ queries, clean the place and hastily close the shop so I don’t end up late. I go back home and shower, change clothes for a sexy dress as I’m feeling bold, some matching heels, and a red lipstick. I look at myself in the mirror and I can’t help but think about how great I look. With a thin black line to contour my eyes, I look sensual, bold, and feminine. A real little bombshell. I have to make sure that Lupe sees it too because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about my hands on his body since I met him. I put on some perfume and tie my hair up in a loose bun, leaving only a few wild strands to fall out of it. I want to look classy but still casual enough so he doesn’t feel intimidated.

  Despite how light my dress is, I still feel hot. Waves of heat keep rushing through my system and I want to blame my hormones but I’m at least thirty years too early to have hormone imbalances. I go to my kitchen and pour myself a cold glass of water, which I down relatively quickly, just in time to hear him knock on my door. Wait. How does he know where I live? I didn’t even give him my address! My heels clicked on the floor as I make my way to the door and open with a frown on my face. “Lupe? I thought we were supposed to meet at the restaurant?” His smile is as bright as the sun as he extends his arm and gives me a bouquet of the most beautiful red roses I’ve seen. I can’t help but think that he’s being a real charmer and my heart skips a beat as I take them and invite him in. “To my defense, this is a small town. There’s only one house that’s been sold in the past few weeks so it wasn’t hard to guess that you lived here.” I feel the edge of my cheekbones tingle. That’s right, this is a really small town. People would n
otice this kind of thing. As I rearrange the flower in a bouquet, I didn’t hear him move behind me. When I turn around, he’s a few inches away from him and the surprised gasp that escaped me left no place to the imagination. He’s hot, he’s close and I feel my gaze narrowing as heat seeped into my features. I can feel him too, just like I knew it was him before I even opened the door. I can feel the heat radiating off him and the muscles of my abdomen clench in reflex, a stifled sigh escaping my lips. He’s so close. Too close. Should I push him away?

  I don’t want to. Instead, my gaze moves upward slowly, from his hips to his chin before locking into his eyes. The shock that courses through me when our gaze meet is nothing short of electrifying and I can’t stop myself. Before I know it, I have my arms wrapped around his neck and my lips are against his. I have to put myself on my tiptoes to be able to reach but he’s quick to lean down. I can feel his strong, muscular arms surround me and my heart feels like leaping out of my chest. I moan against his lips as he lifts me up and sits me on the counter, unfortunately pushing away the vase I have just finished rearranging. I can hear it break against the floor but my hands are already moving to his front. I unbutton his shirt as quickly as I can, breath hot against his lips as I slowly undress him. I can feel an overwhelming thumping in my sex as I get even more excited.

  His hands are on my back, fumbling with the zipper of my dress and he slowly pulls it down while kissing my collarbone. I throw my head back and moan unabashedly as I all but try to rip the rest of his shirt off him. He pushes me down on the counter and my back arches off it as I use the collar of his shirt to pull him down. His lips stifle my gasps and his tongue pushes past my lips, claiming my mouth. I’m dizzy with lust and I know it will only keep growing more intense by the second. His hands feel like they’re all over me, gripping, groping, kneading into every inch of skin they come across. My breath is stolen from me with each languorous kiss he gives me and my legs can do nothing but wrap around his hips, pulling him closer. Suddenly, his hands are on my ass and he lifts me off the counter before pushing me against the nearest wall. He’s intense, he’s all fire and flame and I can’t wait to be consumed.

 

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