Page 49 of Not That Ridiculous

“Gonna start with a little nibble. These buns are sensitive. Delicate. You have to know how to do it right. And I know how to do it right. I’m really good at it.”

Short of running out the back door, I had literally no idea how to get out of this conversation. None.

“So,” he said. “Can I have your buns, Charlie?”

He waited patiently, like that was a normal thing to ask a man in his place of work at nine o’clock on a Tuesday morning.

“Sure,” I said.

He put his hands on the edge of the counter and leaned his weight into them, tipping his upper body towards me a fraction of an inch. “Yeah?” he said happily.

“Yep. Anything else?” With truly superhuman effort, I tore my gaze from his, snatched up a plate, and pincered two buns with the tongs, dropping them quickly onto the plate.

“Can I have an Americano for Craig?”

“Yes.”

“Can I have a latte? ” He smiled at me.

I set the plate down on a tray and made the drinks. When I returned to add them to the tray, I noticed that he had carefully rearranged the buns side by side.

Was he really trying to seduce me in code with pastries?

Catching my eye, Kevin very deliberately—delicately—inserted a middle finger right between the buns and dragged it slowly down the plate, and?—

“Nope,” I said, and swatted his hand away. “No. This is terrible. I can’t…no. Kevin. What kind of porn have you been watching? Who is aroused by this?”

Me, a little voice shrieked in my head.I am! I am horribly aroused by Kevin suggestively fingering his pastries!

And Kevin knew it.

He went to finger the buns again. I went to swat him away again, and realised too late it was a trap. He caught my wrist and gave me a tiny tug towards him.

For a dizzying moment, I thought he was going to do it. Just lean across the counter and kiss me. If he did, I wouldn’t do a thing to stop him. I’d be too busy enjoying the sensation of his lips pressing against mine, his tongue entering my mouth in that bossy, possessive way of his.

Maybe he’d hold my jaw while he did it so I couldn’t get away.

Hah. Yeah. He definitely would.

“Cute coffee shop barista twink gets railed,” Kevin said.

Well, that was a needle-scratch moment. What the hell?

“Hot coffee shop twink gets a triple shot,” he continued. “Handyman with XXXL tool nails twink to floor. Handyman surprises twink with his XXXL power tool.”

“What?” My face felt numb. All the blood was in my dick. I probably looked like a ghost. I had no blood whatsoever left in my upper body. My brain was stuttering.

“The porn I’ve been watching. You asked what I’d been watching.”

“I—wait. Twink?” I fanned the fingers of my free hand over my chest and he grinned. I scowled at him. “You’rethe twink.”

“Hee hee.”

Yeah. In no universe whatsoever would anyone look at solid, sturdy Kevin in his cargos, straining t-shirt and work boots and think, Ah yes. A twink.

They wouldn’t say it to his face, either.

I pulled my wrist out of his grip. He tightened it before he let me go with clear reluctance.

---