Page 92 of Almost Love

He must have looked confused, because Clementine patted his shoulder and flipped to a new page in her notebook. She scribbled his choices and slid it over.

“We’ll mix the other ingredients into what we have and make tiny cakes. Makes sense?”

“Yes, chef,” he mumbled, frowning at her notebook. The most he could do was the pasta he’d made for her the other day and she promised to teach him how to make grilled cheese one day. Oakley was a master at making a bowl of cereal. Everything else sounded too complicated.

Before he could get even more confused, she was giving him instructions and guiding him to where he needed to work. He asked questions and she answered patiently, working on one side while he did what he was told. Making the cakes took longer than he thought, but the process was soothing in a way he didn’t expect. When they were set in the pans, he was shocked that he’d helped create that.

“Can you slide the cakes in, please?”

He nodded and carefully loaded the pans into the oven and turned to find Clementine writing in her notebook while measuring ingredients.

“I thought there’d be time between all of this work for some fooling around,” he teased.

“If we finish the buttercream now, I’ll make time.”

“What are we doing standing around then?”

She laughed, head tipped back, sound echoing through the kitchen. Soon he’d need a section of his notebook dedicated to her laughs. Then she was giving him instructions to make buttercream and he was surprised by the effort. It was fascinating, watching colors blend together to create something new. Every so often, Clementine would swipe her finger through the mixture and slide it into her mouth. Which would leave him hard and aching, because his mind kept wandering to the first dirty dream he had about her.

Clearing his throat, Oakley glanced at the woman beside him as he said, “I had a dream about you a while ago. You were naked on a kitchen counter, buttercream frosting covering your nipples and pussy.” There was a clattering of utensils, but he continued. “You told me that if I wanted to fuck you, I needed to lick you clean first.”

“Did you?” she asked, voice breathy.

“Fuck yes. Licked every last bit off, sucked on those pretty nipples and drowned in that delicious pussy too.” He cursed himself for saying those things, because it was becoming difficult to focus on the task at hand.

When he snuck a glance her way, Clementine had stopped working to rest her hands on the countertop, chest heaving with every breath. It was way too early to be getting his girl this riled up, but once he got started, it was hard to stop.

“I’ll make sure to set some aside for later,” she said softly.

Clementine got back to work like her nipples weren’t straining against her shirt or that his words hadn’t turned her on. He steadied himself as well and they worked in silence to fill new containers with frosting, which they tucked into the fridge. They cleaned the counters and loaded the dishwasher, as the oven dinged. She took the cakes out and set them on the counter to let them cool. Once that was done, Clementine grabbed a small bowl and tugged him towards the room in the back. A dull lamp provided enough light to see that it was an office—photographs and accolades, framed magazine features and kids drawings filled the walls—but before he could ask what they were doing, his ass landed on a soft couch and she was in his lap.

“Tell me about your other dreams,” she demanded, fingers sliding through his hair and tugging his head back. Something cool hit his neck and he moaned as her mouth pressed against him. “Talk or I stop.”

His hands dragged over her thighs, under the apron and between her legs. But he didn’t get very far, because she pulled a little harder on his hair and sucked on his neck. Gripping her thighs, he forced his breathing to settle.

“There’s always lots of frosting. And I spend most of the dream licking it off you. There was one where you licked it off my dick.”

She hummed against his throat, tongue making contact with his skin. “Did you like that, Oak? My mouth around your cock?”

“I love your mouth anywhere on me,” he told her, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and forcibly pulling her face to his. “But around my cock? It would probably kill me.”

That night with the vibrator, when she’d wrapped her lips around the tip, he had almost passed out from pleasure.

Frosting clung to the sides of her mouth and he leaned in and kissed her, tonguing the buttercream at the same time. Shemoaned and dropped a hand to press against his crotch through the apron. The kiss broke on a loud groan from him.

“That would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? This cock is necessary for a lot of things.”

“I’m pretty attached to it too,” he said, making them both laugh.

Squeezing her neck gently, he captured her mouth again. A sound akin to a growl fell from her lips and then she was kissing him hungrily. Her fingers smoothed through his hair and against his scalp as her lips parted and tongue flicked out at his. He opened up for her, groaning as their tongues tangled together. The taste of honey and lavender filled his mouth.I’ll be lucky to survive this day now. He found the strength to cup her breasts in both hands, feeling her nipples hard against his palms.

He’d had this woman naked and writhing under him, he’d put his mouth on her and used his fingers to make her come. She’d helped him rediscover the magic of orgasms while he showed her the power of self-pleasure.

Yet kissing her would always be what left him unhinged.

When the kiss broke, Clementine cupped his face in her hands and nipped at his bottom lip. “You’ve got me all twisted up, Oak.”

The words hit him square in the chest, reminding him of when he said it to her not too long ago. His hands settled at her waist and squeezed as he said, “I like being twisted up in you.”

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