The Captain and the Baker

by Catherine Curzon

  Jake curled his hand around Locryn’s erection and began to caress him. His voice low with desire, he asked, “Here, in the kitchen, all floury?”

  “Would that be too naughty?” Locryn’s hands still kneaded the dough for a few seconds more, a perfect cocktail of the domestic and the sensual. Then he gave a low moan and turned his head to seek out Jake’s lips.

  Jake kissed him, still stroking, his other hand now caressing Locryn’s nipple. Then he broke from the kiss and, half-breathless, said, “It would be very naughty. Naughty like a chocolate torte served with extra cream.”

  “That’s very, very naughty.” He caught Jake’s mouth again.

  Jake responded, their kiss deep and passionate. He took a moment to catch his breath and growled, “I want you, now.”

  “Have me,” was the gasped reply. “Please…”

  Jake dropped his shorts then returned to stroking Locryn with one hand, the other tugging Locryn’s dressing gown off. And Locryn, because he was Locryn, took a moment to throw the dough into its bowl and push it aside. He was ever the dedicated baker, it seemed, which was just one of the many things Jake found so irresistible about him. With Locryn naked in his arms, Jake groaned in pleasure. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any johnnies kicking about down here?”

  “Try the pocket in my dressing gown,” Locryn instructed. “I put some in there before our shower yesterday.”

  Jake smiled to himself as he remembered their shower together. He picked up the dressing gown from the floor and took out one of the condoms. “And—” Jake glanced around the kitchen, wondering what they could use. Locryn clearly hadn’t quite grasped the delay. He followed Jake’s gaze around the kitchen.

  “Don’t worry, darling,” he said. “I don’t think Dorothy’s going to watch.”

  “I hope not!” Jake chuckled, then he kissed Locryn’s neck again. “I mean…we can’t use butter, can we? What else have you got?”

  Without so much as a moment of delay Locryn replied, “There’s aloe next to the Aga. I believe we could use that.”

  “Oh, of course! Perfect for a burn in the kitchen, and perfect for a—” Jake went off to the Aga to fetch it. A bum in the kitchen. What a puerile thing to say. Locryn watched him, utterly and gloriously at ease, little white blooms of flour here and there on his skin.

  “You can say bum,” he said with a fond smile. “Because we’re both thinking it!”

  Jake laughed. “All right, a bum in the kitchen. And you do have a fucking fantastic arse, lovely and firm.” Jake returned with the aloe vera and gave Locryn’s bottom a tap. Locryn rewarded him with a playful wiggle, then flattened his palms on the tabletop, letting the soft kitchen lights bathe the contours of his sculpted back. When he glanced back over his shoulder, there was fire in his gaze.

  Jake prepared himself, as relaxed as if he were always naked with lovers in the kitchen. Then he embraced Locryn around his waist and pressed inside him. Locryn’s head rolled back until his hair brushed Jake’s cheek and a low groan of desire slipped from his parted lips. With a soft murmur of Jake’s name he circled his hips, their bodies as deeply joined as they could be.

  Jake rasped his lips across Locryn’s shoulders and returned his hand to Locryn’s erection, stroking in time with his forceful thrusts. He ran his other hand over Locryn’s stomach and chest, enthralled by the touch of his toned body. Locryn’s lips sought his again, their kisses charged with a new heat as their bodies moved as one. They caught each other’s moans and sighs, reveled in them, utterly lost in each other.

  Clouds of flour rose up from the table as it rocked back and forth, creaking with each of Jake’s thrusts. As he roamed his hand over Locryn’s torso, a trail of flour and butter from who knew where followed in its wake.

  And who would have thought the nicest baker on telly could be such a saucy raunchpot?

  Nobody would’ve put the nicest baker and the scariest chef together in a million years. Yet here they were, bent over the kitchen table where just a few hours earlier they’d discussed the filling in Locryn Trevorrow’s eclairs. Now they were surrounded by the delicate aroma of aloe and with the decadent feeling of butter under Jake’s fingers as he stroked his lover’s chest.

  “I want you on the table,” Jake whispered. “I want to look at you.”

  “Anything for Captain Jake,” Locryn purred. He met Jake’s gaze and told him innocently, “Anyone would think you liked to see me covered in flour.”

  “Like a manly goujon?” Jake kissed him while he carefully withdrew. Then he patted Locryn’s thigh. “On the table, Mr. Trevorrow.”

  Once he had turned, Locryn slipped his arms around Jake’s waist and kissed him. For a few seconds he let it linger, then he lay back on the kitchen table, one arm pillowed behind his head.

  “Can you pop my dough somewhere out of harm’s way?” He blinked at Jake through dreamy eyes then asked, “How’s this?”

  Jake set the bowl on the worktop, then he climbed onto the table and lay on his side next to Locryn, kissing him, caressing his body again.

  Jake admired Locryn, his very own floury Adonis. “Fucking gorgeous!” he declared. With a bright laugh, Locryn cuddled Jake into his arms and dotted kisses across his face, liberally covering him in flour too.

  Jake kissed him back and soon their kisses deepened, and now lying face to face, their bodies were once more joined. Jake smoothed his fingers through Locryn’s hair, enjoying him, wanting to touch and feel every part of him. Locryn’s hands were running over Jake’s back and moving lower, gripping his bottom again as his legs wrapped around Jake’s, one foot stroking his calf.

  Jake was hungry for Locryn, ravenous with passion. He moved with deep thrusts, bringing their bodies as close together as he could. Every thrust earned one of those unbridled moans from Locryn and he teased his fingertips between Jake’s buttocks again.

  Reaching between their bodies, Jake took Locryn’s erection and stroked it, swift and sure, faster now as he sensed their climaxes nearing. Jake nibbled Locryn’s ear as little clouds of flour puffed into the air around them. His lover arched his neck, his gasps getting faster, more urgent, and he lifted one leg around Jake’s waist, those muscles that Jake would never tire of taut and strong. That was all it took to push Jake almost over the edge, but he moaned, trying to hold back. “Oh, Loc, fucking hell, you sexy fucking bastard!”

  “Don’t ever stop being you,” Locryn gasped, a fresh fire in his kisses. He let his fingers push a little deeper, his free hand tangled in Jake’s hair. “You’re perfect.”

  “Bloody hell, no, you are!” Jake half-closed his eyes, gazing down on the most wonderful sight in Cornwall—a debauched Locryn Trevorrow with flour in his tousled hair and lust in his sparkling eyes. Tomorrow Locryn would be prim and proper again, serving up delicate pastries in his chintzy café, and nobody but Jake would know what really lay beneath the neatly pressed shirts and gentlemanly nature. And here was Locryn, naked, moaning with lust and looking utterly delicious on the kitchen table where he’d probably be mixing a boozy fruitcake for his next Christmas special.

  The thought of the contrast between the private and public incarnations of Locryn excited Jake and made his thrusts and his caresses ever wilder. He wanted to draw out the naughty version of Locryn.

  “I love it when—” Locryn lost the thought in a moan, a second finger joining the first. He arched his back and gasped, “Just…be sweary!”

  “All right then.” Jake nibbled and licked Locryn’s earlobe and whispered, “I love fucking you, you hot, hot fucker!”

  “Oh yes!” Locryn cried, his fingers thrusting to match Jake’s pace. “Don’t stop!”

  “I want to fuck you hard. I want to fuck you slow.” Jake matched his words to his thrusts, then, almost breathless, he whispered, “Do you want to fuck me, Loc?”

  For a few moments it seemed that Locryn couldn’t answer, his breaths hoarse and gasping. Then he nodded, gazing up at Jake through his large, glittering eyes. “I’d
love to. But you’re so good at it!”

  Jake paused long enough to tell him, “I want you to fuck me and whisper fiddlesticks in my ear as you do it!” Then he went on, thrust after delicious thrust.

  Locryn’s lips caught Jake’s earlobe and as his hand moved hard and fast, he whispered, “Fiddlesticks and crumbs, Captain Jake.”

  Those words delivered in Locryn’s plummy tones were too much. “Oh…oh, Loc… I can’t… I can’t hold on!”

  And as Locryn’s leg tightened just a little more around Jake’s waist he added a whispered, “Gosh,” just to tip them both over the edge.

  Pleasure burst through Jake and he cried out Locryn’s name. Then he lay still, the sweat on their bodies cooling as he gazed at Locryn through heavy-lidded eyes.

  “Fuck it, you’re amazing,” Jake whispered. Locryn smiled softly, then shook his head.

  “You make me feel…I don’t know. Wild.”

  “Wild?” Jake chuckled. “You’re so passionate.”

  Locryn lifted his head a little, just enough to kiss Jake. Then he snuggled against him, as cuddly now as he had been abandoned just moments earlier. They were dusted with flour and dabbed with butter but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the contentment of this embrace.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The table was set for the taster-session. Or, as Jake and Locryn had decided, matchmaking session.

  A nice cloth on the table, candles. Nothing too over-the-top, but Jake had decided he’d justify any quibbles with his reasonable argument that they were, after all, making a television series around a wedding, so it had to be just a little romantic.

  “Just a little arrangement,” Locryn told Jake as he crossed the café carrying a vase of flowers in shades of russet and deep reds. “An autumnal mood. Is it too much?”

  “No, it’s gorgeous!” Jake put his arm around Locryn’s waist. “Just like you.”

  “But no sourdough.” Locryn kissed Jake’s cheek. “That’s just for us.”

  “Rises nicely when you leave it overnight.” Jake opened his eyes wide, feigning innocence. “Right, everything’s ready. Tasting platters are go, the runners are primed to fetch Zoe and David on our signal, and…all we need is for Merryn and Petroc to hit it off.”

  Locryn pulled a hopeful face and held his hands together as though in prayer. “I just hope they do. No running away for Petroc tonight!”

  The bell above the café’s door tinkled at that moment, heralding the arrival of the couple and their parents. Merryn looked glamorous as ever, all big hair and statement jewelry. Her bracelets jangled as she waved hello.

  “Evening, you two!” she called.

  “Hello!” Locryn took Jake’s hand and together they crossed the café to greet the new arrivals. Petroc was at the rear of the group, ready for the television cameras in a great suit. It was the smartest that Jake had seen him look, more used to cozy jumpers and jeans. “You all look wonderful! Jake’s got some amazing treats waiting for you, you’re going to love them. Some of our Jake and Locryn pasties too, of course!”

  “Best pasties in Cornwall!” David licked his lips. Then he nodded to the table. “I like that, it’s well romantic!!”

  “Oh, Mum, look at the flowers!” Zoe smiled at her mother, then glanced back at Petroc. “That’s got to be your work, Locryn?”

  “Guilty.” He smiled. “Grab a seat, I’m very much just here as waiter tonight—Jake’s the captain. Let me get you all a drink before the crew arrive.”

  Jake had spoken to his sommelier in Whitstable, and with Locryn they’d decided on a couple of wines. Really nice, special wines that Jake hoped Merryn and Petroc would enjoy.

  “We’ll be starting with pasties and squabs, then we’ll be moving onto puddings. The cameras will be on, and I really want you to be honest, because”—Jake gestured to Zoe and David—“it’s going to be your special day. And”—Jake turned to Merryn and Petroc—“Mum and Dad, you’re the second most important couple—I mean, pair of the day, and we want you to be happy too.”

  Petroc chuckled bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, mother of the bride’s the most important one after the happy couple, isn’t she? She’s the boss!”

  Merryn patted his arm affectionately. “It’s the father of the groom’s big day too! Can’t have you put out with dodgy starters, can we?”

  The little group settled around the table and Locryn swung into action, filling glasses and putting everyone at their ease. He was a natural, Jake knew, the sort of man who didn’t have to playact a welcome. As he watched Locryn laugh with the new arrivals, Jake felt a swell of affection in his breast, affection that he saw mirrored when he met Locryn’s gaze.

  The cameras started to roll, gathering footage of the two families drinking and happy.

  “I’ll go and get the first platter.” Jake strode off to the kitchen and returned bearing a large slate with mini pasties and squabs on it. “Dive in!”

  And to his relief, there was no repeat of the episode on the beach. This time the food was met with nothing but coos and compliments, with even Petroc taking his turn to sing Jake’s praises to the camera. As Jake joined the family at the table and went through the ingredients and the inspirations, Locryn hung back in the kitchen to prepare the next platters, an admirable sous chef tonight.

  Jake brushed his hands together. He glanced toward the back of the café and saw Locryn ready. It had just hit eight o’clock.

  “Are we ready for the—?” Jake was interrupted by the director coming into the café. “Oh, there you are. Hi!”

  “Can I borrow the bride and groom?” he asked. “The moon’s full over the harbor. It’s perfect for getting a few romantic-strolling-honeymoon talking heads.”

  “And this is why I hired you to direct!” Jake gestured to Zoe and David. “Okay, hop it, you two, and that goes for the cameramen too!”

  Jake folded his arms as the café began to empty. Merryn picked up her handbag from the seat beside her.

  “Maybe I should—?”

  “If you could wait that’d be brilliant,” was the director’s verdict. “We’ll be back in twenty minutes or so, and it’ll mean an earlier finish if you don’t mind hanging around so we can pick straight up.”

  “Oh, well, okay then.” Merryn put her handbag down just as Jake topped up her and Petroc’s wine glasses.

  “Chill with a nice glass of wine,” Jake said. “I’ll go and see what Locryn’s getting up to.”

  Jake couldn’t resist a quick look back over his shoulder at Merryn and Petroc, side by side in the otherwise empty café.

  Could they really turn two lonely lives into a happy ending?

  Jake pulled back the seashell-patterned curtain and stepped into the kitchen. Locryn was waiting for him, a cup and saucer in his hand as though posing for an editorial photo.

  “How goes the plan?” he asked.

  Jake gave a thumbs-up. “Everyone’s gone, it’s just Merryn and Petroc now,” Jake whispered. “And half a bottle of wine!”

  “I kept back a little surprise for you.” Locryn put his cup and saucer down and opened a cake tin. “The last Porthavel turnover of the day. Simple, local, fresh. I learned that from this sweary chef I know!”

  “Locryn!” Jake rushed a kiss to Locryn’s cheek. “You know how much I love your turnovers. You really are the perfect man.”

  Locryn handed the tin to Jake, then put his arm around Jake’s waist. “You’ve worked so hard these last few days to get all this ready. It’s your turn to be fussed over.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Jake put the tin aside before bringing his lips to Locryn’s in a kiss. He wasn’t used to anyone fussing over him, and before Locryn he would’ve said he didn’t need it. Yet it was nice to have someone there who didn’t expect him to be superhuman, someone who told him that it was all right to slow down and breathe the sea air.

  When they broke from the kiss, they stood together for a while, Jake not doing anything more than hug his
boyfriend. There was no rush, no shouting, only a stillness that Jake wasn’t sure he recognized.

  From the café he could hear the low hum of conversation, punctuated by Merryn’s occasional laughter and, once or twice, Petroc’s too. Jake stayed in Locryn’s arms as they listened, until Locryn whispered, “Would you like to join me for lunch tomorrow, darling?”

  Jake brushed his lips over Locryn’s cheek. “Yeah, I’d love that! Here?”

  Locryn shook his head. “I’m on breakfast duty in the café tomorrow morning, but come to the cottage at noon?”

  “I’m there. Noon. Got it.” Jake kissed him again.

  As the kiss ended. Locryn cocked his head a little toward the curtain. “Can you hear what they’re saying?”

  Jake shook his head. “Fancy an eavesdrop? Well, maybe a curtain-drop?”

  Together they tiptoed to the curtain and paused. As they did, Locryn whispered, “She really has to broach the Jory question, because Petroc never will. He’s one of those men’s men.”

  “Do you think she will?” Jake saw her fluff out her hair, a sign he now knew often meant Merryn means business. “I mean, she must know Petroc better than anyone, other than David.”

  “Zoe said she’s had a long talk with her mum about it.” He nodded approvingly as Petroc offered the plate of snacks to her. “Come on, Merryn, you can do it.”

  Merryn fluffed her hair out again, then leaned one elbow on the table.

  “Looks like she’s revving up,” Jake whispered.

  “So…” Merryn asked. “Will you have the first dance at the wedding reception with Zoe?”

  “Or be the best man,” Locryn murmured, shaking his head.

  Petroc shook his head too. “I don’t know if that’d be right, I wouldn’t want her thinking as I’m trying to take her dad’s place.”

  “She wouldn’t think that,” Merryn said. “She can’t dance with a ghost, Pet. And you’ve been there for us ever since—ever since we lost Jory. He’d’ve wanted you to have the first dance with her.”