“The alarm company turned it off for me,” I said. “But I guess that means that Ken forgot to lock it on his way out.”
Booth grunted something and made his way through the shop, systematically taking everything in from the peak of the ceiling to the molding on the floor.
Once he’d made a thorough walk through, he came to a stop directly next to me.
“This place doesn’t have rats,” he said. “This place also doesn’t even have a fuckin’ crumb. So I highly doubt that it would’ve been Ken who made the complaint.”
I did, too.
“One of them is probably just fuckin’ pissed that you’re changing their hours around. They had a pretty cushy job here. They got to come in at eight, leave at noon, and got paid almost full-time for it.”
That was true.
They did.
But of my three employees, all of them were older. Ken was in his early sixties. During the early afternoon hours, he worked for me making dough. When he wasn’t working for me, he taught a CrossFit class at his local gym.
Mirena, the woman that sometimes opened for me if I needed her to, was in her early fifties with two college-aged kids. The only reason she was working here at all was because she needed something to do with her time now.
The last employee, who had worked for me the least amount of time, and was my prime suspect, was in her forties. Her name was Moshe, and she was my new donut decorator.
She made her own hours and came in only when I couldn’t keep up with the orders. She was actually more than happy about the extra orders we’d now be taking, but she wasn’t excited about the hours. Something in which she said she would have to think about before she committed to it.
But even her, I couldn’t see doing it.
“I just don’t see that,” I admitted. “None of them were upset about the change. The only one that really said she even might have a problem was Moshe, and that’s only because she’s a runner, and she has her long runs on Saturday mornings. I really don’t see her as having such a problem that she would call the health department on me.”
“Speaking of health department,” Booth murmured, his eyes going to the plate glass windows that held my sparkly pink bakery letters. “He’s here.”
We both watched as the man got out of his truck, clipboard in hand.
He was taking in the sign on the plate glass windows, grinning slightly.
I was sure it was all the glitter.
Most men lifted their lips up at it upon first sight.
I’d gone with the most obnoxious shade of pink I could find, then asked them to add glitter to it.
Honestly, I loved it.
But it wasn’t a man’s favorite thing in the world upon seeing it, either.
The moment he walked through my door, my voice froze in my throat.
Luckily, Booth was there.
He walked over to the man and introduced himself.
“Hi, I’m Dillan Davidsdottir’s man, Booth,” he said, holding out his hand to the health inspector.
The health inspector took his hand. “I’m Green. First name, not my last. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Well, Green.” Booth stepped back. “Go ahead and do your thing. We’ll be out here.”
Green nodded his head and went on his way, making me worry my lip as I watched him go.
“It’ll be okay,” Booth promised.
I wasn’t sure how.
I just had the worst feeling in the world.
And it was becoming bigger and bigger the longer that Green was gone.
Booth caught me up in his arms and pulled me in tight, and I forced myself to calm down.
“Have I ever told you how much I love your hair?”
His whispered words against my hair had me smiling.
“No,” I said. “It’s just hair, Booth.”
He chuckled then.
“It is.” He paused. “But then you have to think about the fact that I’ve always wanted to wrap it around my fist. In my head, I do it three times. Then I yank your head back and fuck you, using your ponytail as a guide to help me fuck you harder.”
I licked my lips at his words.
Jesus, the man was potent.
He’d only whispered a few words against my hair, and I was roaring and ready to go.
I shivered.
“Have you ever had any other fantasies?” I asked curiously.
My eyes were on the board across the room.
I had a chalkboard low so that all the little children—and sometimes big children—could write whatever they wanted while their parents paid.
I loved looking at all the drawings. But right then, all I could see was the vision that Booth had just planted in my head of him doing naughty things to me.
“Lots,” he admitted. “You on your knees, me using your hair to guide you on how hard and fast to take my cock in your mouth.” He paused. “Then there’s me taking you against that fucking counter right there.” He shifted so that his erection was digging into my hipbone. “You’re facing the door, scared that someone’s going to come inside. Even though it’s well past closing time and you’re not supposed to be open. Yet, you forgot to lock the door before we got carried away.” His voice is a low growl that’s making me shiver. The low, gravelly tones of his voice making my mouth dry and my nipples peak. “I’m standing behind you, my cock so deep in you that it’s kissing the entrance to your womb. And then a customer walks in. You take her custom order with me behind you, cock twitching inside of you, and that’s almost better than fucking you. You keep squeezing me with your muscles, making me want to buck into you, but the goddamn customer is taking so long to choose what kind of fucking donuts she wants. I—”
“All done,” Green interrupted Booth’s fantasy. “I don’t see a single thing wrong that I would even ding you on. I have a recommendation, though.” He walked toward us.
I stayed in front of Booth, knowing that his cock was very in your face hard right now, and there was no way in hell that Green would miss it.
“That’s great news.” I smiled genuinely at him, even though there were much better things that I’d rather be doing right now than talking about any suggestions that a health inspector had for my business.
“This has nothing at all to do about your business’s health in any way,” he admitted. “I was just going to suggest that you open on weekends so that I can sneak some of your donuts to my grandkids. They love this place, but only get to have it on the rare weekday that they happen to be off from school.”
I grinned widely then.
“Well, I have some good news and some bad news for you then,” I found myself saying, shifting my hips so that my ass brushed up against Booth’s cock. He growled at the move. His hands on my hips convulsed. “I’ll be opening up for the weekends starting at the beginning of next month,” I said. “But I’ll also no longer be open on the weekdays.”
His eyes widened. “That’s great!”
I grinned. “I’m hoping so. I hadn’t realized just how many people wanted the weekends until I announced it on my Facebook page last week. People are really ecstatic. And I’ve had so many wonderful people tell me that they’re happy that I’m changing the hours and the days. Zero people have said a word about it negatively, too.”
“Well, you’ll definitely have my grandkids excited, that’s for sure,” he said as he wrote something in a notebook. Seconds later, he tore off a piece of paper. “If you ever have any questions, feel free to call me. I doubt you will, but you never know.”
I took the paper with a grateful smile, and feeling devious, folded it up and placed it into the back pocket of my jeans, being very sure to drag my hand along Booth’s very hard, still very much there, cock.
He hissed in a breath, pulling me back hard against him, and pinning my hand in between us.
“Well, have a good one,” Green said.
Then without another word he
was gone, leaving me with a very worked up man that was about to get one of his fantasies fulfilled.
Before Green could so much as get into his car—and with all the window paint that I used to decorate the front of my building it was sort of hard to tell—Booth was dragging me behind the counter and leaning me over it.
With it being well past four in the afternoon, I really wasn’t expecting anybody to walk into my place.
But the anticipation that maybe someone would had me practically leaking all over my underwear in excitement.
“I’ve wanted this since you put this fucking counter in.” He chuckled then. “Get it? Fucking counter? Because that’s what I’m about to do to you. Fuck you over it. Every time you check a customer out from now on, you’re going to be thinking about how it felt to have my cock buried so deep inside of you that you could feel it in your throat.”
I shivered at his words, doing my part by leaning over and bracing my hands beside my cup of pens.
I wasn’t bent over far. Just barely honestly because the counter was just too high to do it all the way, but it was enough that Booth saw my invitation for what it was.
“Fucking jeans,” he murmured, sliding his hands up and down the length of my ass. “I’ve wanted to peel them off of you since I saw you in them in the kitchen at your place. But then you got that call and…”
He reached around the front and slid his hand down over my mound, cupping me boldly through my jeans.
“You have a small hole in this particular pair,” he rumbled as he pressed himself up against my back. “Every once in a while, I want to poke my pinky finger in it and…” He stopped with his finger hovering over the hole that I’d gotten a few months ago when I was walking through my kitchen at home. It’d caught on one of my cabinet knobs, tearing slightly. Yet, since they were one of my favorite pairs, I didn’t do the sensible thing like throw them away. I decided to wear them until they ripped more. “Rip it open wide. Shove my fingers into your pussy, and fuck you with them.”
I swallowed hard as he took the top of my jeans and pulled hard down, causing the entire row of buttons, four in total, to unbutton. Pop-pop-pop-pop.
I could hear the loud pops burst in my eardrums, the sound making me shift on my feet in anticipation of what was about to come.
“I want you too bad,” he said as he slowly started to shove my pants down my hips. Not all the way so that they were falling to the floor, but far enough down that my entire ass was exposed to the air. “Want to shove my cock inside of you and fuuuuck, you’re so wet.”
Tearing me to pieces inside, one tiny bit at a time.
“Please,” I said as I shifted my hips, hoping that it would relay the message.
I wanted him inside of me.
His fingers were great and all, but God, I was so worked up that it was bordering on laughable.
I knew that the moment he worked his cock inside of me, I was going to come.
There was no other way around it.
I was shifting my legs back and forth, feeling the pool of my jeans at the top of my thick thighs, and used the seam to work my clit.
“Uh-uh,” he said as he stilled my hips.
He curled his fingers inside of me, causing me to gasp.
But before I could so much as complain, he was right back, this time with his cock.
I looked down and over my hip to find his cock poking out through the fly of his jeans.
How he’d gotten his hard cock out through that small little window, I didn’t know.
But that really was the only thing that was exposed. The hard length of his cock.
All hard, thick and filled with pulsing veins.
The head was a ruddy red, angry looking and already sporting a drop of pearly white liquid at the tip.
I wanted to lick it off with my tongue and roll it over the head to make sure that I got it all.
He must’ve realized exactly what I wanted because he swiped the drop off with one thumb and brought it up to my lips, holding it out.
I didn’t have to lean at all to swipe the droplet up with the tip of my tongue.
“Jesus,” he said. “Fuck me running.”
“That doesn’t sound possible,” I admitted.
He lined his cock up with my entrance and I turned forward, staring at the door unseeing.
His cock slowly breached my entrance, pushing inside my slick pussy one slow inch at a time.
I groaned, loving the burning stretch of him filling me.
I reached down and cupped where we were being joined, loving the feeling of how big he felt inside of me.
My pussy was stretched to its limits, yet, he fit me perfectly.
And God, was I slick for him.
My pussy was wet, and I couldn’t help but drag my fingers through the wetness and swirl it up to run over my distended clit.
I jolted at the touch, and Booth started to chuckle behind me.
“Get yourself off,” he ordered.
I didn’t hesitate.
I just swirled my fingers over my clit exactly how I liked it, staring at the door as if any second someone was going to come in and see.
But then Booth started to fuck into me harder, taking me a little rougher than before, and I forgot to watch the door, and instead dropped my head to the counter.
I tried to widen my legs to brace myself, but my jeans kept me exactly where I was.
“Fuck, baby. But you feel so good,” he whispered, running his hand up the length of my spine. “I want to pull your breasts out of your shirt and press them against the counter. See them spill from your bra and slap against the counter while I fuck you.”
I wanted that, too.
But, if someone really did come in, then there’d be no way to hide that.
And though I was currently having sex against my front counter, I knew that everything would be hidden if someone actually did walk in.
Meaning I left my breasts where they were.
Even though the idea of them slapping against the counter did have merit.
“God, you liked that, didn’t you?” he asked as he placed both of his hands on the counter on either side of my ribcage. “You like the idea of us being caught.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could, the fuckin’ bells started to ring over my front door.
I whipped my head up and Booth came to an abrupt stop inside of me.
His cock didn’t show any such worry, though, still twitching away inside of me.
I licked my lips, momentarily too blinded by the bright sunlight that followed the man inside to see who, exactly, the man was.
But then Kerrie closed the door behind him, and I tensed.
There I was, pants down, and the man that I now hated was standing in front of me.
Booth, however, didn’t seem to have the same problem as I did.
He wasn’t pissed. And if he was, he sure didn’t show it.
If anything, his cock seemed to swell inside of me.
“What do you want?” Booth asked, his chest rumbling as he pressed himself up against me fully.
I stood with him, leaning my arms against the counter as if I didn’t have a care in the world, instead of having my pants down around the tops of my thighs. Oh, and let’s not forget Booth’s big cock shoved so far inside of me that I could feel it against my cervix.
“I wanted to stop by,” he said. “I saw the health inspector in the parking lot. I was on the phone in the parking lot across the way. I just finished up and wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“Everything’s fine,” Booth said stiffly. “If you don’t mind, would you leave?”
Kerrie stiffened.
I did, too. But for completely different reasons.
Booth’s hand went from the counter in front of me to the front of my thigh, and he slowly started to work it up the length of my body.
I moved backward slightly, giving him t
he room he needed to get in between my body and the counter.
When he felt the wiry hairs covering my pubic bone, he slowly moved his finger so that it split my slit. He paused when he felt my clit, slowly swirling his finger around and around, not caring at all that his actions were causing me to jerk in response.
“I just came by because I was worried,” Kerrie said through gritted teeth.
“Well, your worry is not welcome any longer,” Booth replied, still working my clit. “Please, leave.”
Kerrie gritted his teeth, and honestly looked as if he was about to argue some more, but surprisingly seemed to get a hold of himself and jerk up his chin in response.
“Fine,” he said, his eyes taking me, then Booth, in. “Good luck.”
With that parting comment, he moved toward the door and didn’t turn around or look back.
Kerrie hadn’t even left all the way yet before Booth was once again moving.
His cock was slowly working me, pulling out, and tunneling back inside. Slow, rhythmic thrusts designed to make me want to scream.
My nipples were scraping deliciously against the edge of the counter, and Booth’s hand on my thigh, holding me where he wanted me, and taking me? Well, that was the single hottest thing I’d ever felt in my life.
Despite having come seconds before Kerrie had walked in the door, I was once again on the verge of coming all over again.
The door pushed open, and the bells that I had hanging on the bar jingled.
Kerrie chanced a glance over his shoulder, but it didn’t matter to me.
My eyes were nearly glazed over.
Booth, having anticipated Kerrie’s look over his shoulder, looked relaxed, as if his cock wasn’t so hard it was pulsing inside of me.
He’d stopped his movements and braced both of his hands on the counter again on either side of my ribs.
I bit my lip but couldn’t stop myself from pressing back against him.
Hell, even Kerrie, with his annoying face and lying eyes, couldn’t make me control myself.
The moment the door closed behind him, and the bells settled, I moaned.
Booth didn’t waste time after that.
He pulled back then thrust forward so hard that I cried out.
My breasts dug into the counter, and my hips hit so hard that I knew that I’d be feeling sore tomorrow.
Joke's on You (SWAT Generation 2.0 Book 6) Page 12
