Page 41 of Mine for 24 Hella-Hours
“Touché.”
We pass through covered furniture. The pungent smell of fresh paint hangs in the air.
“This area is still under construction. It will be finished in a week.” She informs me. “The kitchen space is ready, though.”
“So you own a bakery.” I lean against the doorframe of the small space. “I’ve been cursed with a sweet tooth. This is dangerous.”
“Nothing wrong with an ounce of danger,” she quotes me from our first interaction, propelling the corner of my mouth to rise higher. “Besides,” she shoots me a mischievous smile. “I’m cursed too.”
Who is this woman?
Erupting like a volcano. Scorching my being with her magma touch. Every moment feels like I’ve known her for a thousand years like our souls speak to each other in a secret language only we know. Fuck, it feels so intimate. So raw and real.
“The grand opening will be in a week and a half.” She fills me in on the details. “Sophie and I wanted to have a business of our own. We’ve worked hard to get here. To fund our bakery and I’m proud of us.”
I step by her side, leaning my back against the island in the middle of the room.
“I always wanted to be my own boss without the clutches and at the mercy of someone else who doesn’t give a damn about their employees. I worked for a well-known bakery and it was horrendous. Their treatment toward us was shameful and on top of it all, we worked crazy hours with minimum rest and minimum wage. They didn’t care and they made sure we knew it at every turn. This place won’t be like that. It will be respectful, communicative, and hopefully a community for those who need it.”
“Count me as a regular from now on.” I will come to buy the desserts she makes but mostly, I will come to see the pretty lady behind them.
She grins, putting her coat on a nearby stool.
I’m right on her heels.
“You like food play, and chocolate cake would be fun to play with and it’d be a heck of a dessert.”
“I can’t say I don’t like your train of thought.” I can’t grasp the fact she thought about me and what I like. Putting my needs on display. Fixing a dish for us both.
“I’ll guide you through.” Dylan starts pulling bowls and measuring cups as she instructs me on what to do at each step.
“Don’t spread my secret ingredient but I love putting rum extract in my cakes. It adds to the flavor.” Watching the passion mirrored in her body language and the glimmer in her eyes tugs at my heart.
I know that feeling. Having something tangible you’re proud of. Something under your craft that makes you want to wake up every day not because you have to, but because you want to.
The world is busy throwing rules at us. Expectations are setbacks. Making everyone believe that there’s something they need to aspire to and achieve in order to live the life they want.
My parents didn’t let society dictate any aspect of their lives. Or mine. Instead of living for tomorrow, I live in the here and now. Everything could crumple in a second and I would be happy I was present. Not doing what people expect of me but the opposite. And blow my mind in the process because, in the end, it’s about us. Individuals.
Dylan is a solo act. She may have a partner but her vision is hers and hers alone. I’m lucky to witness her living her dream.
“My love for baking came from my mom. More than anything she loves baking and she is extraordinary at it.” In her element, she tells me to pour the brown mixture into a baking pan. The slippery liquid fills the pan smoothly. I push it into the oven and set the timer as she directs me.
“We’ve got about thirty minutes to kill so—“
I don’t let her finish that sentence. I already know what we both want.
My lips press to hers, and fireworks explode in the background. I push my tongue out, she does the same and we collide into another mouth-fucking session.
The pungent odor of her arousal sends my blood straight to my cock. Her gorgeous exotic hair falls past her shoulders, I take a handful of it and tug her head back, loving the whimper that follows.
Her exposed neck amplifies my appetite for her. I plant kisses across every available spot, nip, and suck the soft skin where her neck connects to her shoulder.
My free hand roams over her body until it finds her thigh, her lush skin molds underneath my palm like clay.
She’s so responsive to my touch it’s magnetizing, I want to touch her again and discover every nuance my touch on her body creates.
Her fingers skim over her panties, making my need for her quadruple.
