EVER
Bobby is waiting for me inside Sweet Creations. At first, he didn’t want to impose and said he’d rather stay inside his truck. That work time isn’t personal time. However, my boss, Ben, is here, and he rarely comes in on Mondays.
Bobby steps from foot to foot as I make introductions.
“Ben, this is my boyfriend, Bobby. Bobby, this is my boss, Ben Willard.”
Ben holds out his hand. His other is on his walking stick. “It’s nice to meet you, Bobby. Ever’s worked for me since she moved to Dumas for college, and she’s never brought a boyfriend to the bakery.”
Ben is tall and lanky, with dirty-blond hair. He reminds me of a wizard, but with dark sunglasses rather than round eyeglasses. Ben can see shapes, but that’s about it. With his height and muscles, Bobby looks like a special ops military guy, except he’s missing a beard. I can’t decide whether I like him clean-shaven or with what my father calls “scruff.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Ben.”
Bobby is polite. I’m wondering why he didn’t say anything to Ben’s comment that I’ve never brought a guy to meet my boss. I hike my backpack higher on my shoulder. Bobby takes it off my shoulder and slings it over his. My school backpack looks tiny compared with his broad shoulders and tree trunk arms.
“We should get going,” I say to Bobby before turning to Ben. “Our Life Our Time closes soon, and we have to drop off paperwork.”
Ben pats my shoulder. “I’m proud of you for volunteering your time to help the community, Ever.”
“And I’m thankful for your support. The residents and helpers will love the pastries you’ll donate at the vaccination event.” I lean into him with a half-hug. “Thank you.”
“Anytime. Now get going.”
The bell above the door rings. Maggie walks inside. We all say a quick, “Hi, bye,” as Bobby and I hurry to his truck. Something has me glancing over my shoulder at the bakery. Maggie is standing in front of the door with a shit-eating grin. She rubs her belly, makes a heart with her thumbs and index fingers, and points to me.
I glower. She winks. Smiling, I shake my head and wave. I love that girl and will miss her when she eventually moves to wherever her husband gets stationed next.
Bobby opens the passenger-side door of his truck. I hop in. “Where’s your motorcycle?”
“Money pit.”
He closes my door. I buckle in and wait for him to get inside the truck before I ask my next question. “Did Slate drive your truck down for you?”
“Nah. I did. Took the motorcycle up to Alexandria. Drove the truck back with the motorcycle on a trailer.”
He sets my backpack at my feet.
“Ain’t no one else riding in this here truck except for you, sweetness.”
Bobby buckles in and starts the engine.
“We made out in this truck. You came on my fingers. Came on my tongue. Left your flavor in my mouth. You ground your hips on mine until I embarrassingly shot my load in my pants. Uh-uh. No way in hell will I let another man catch a whiff of your arousal or touch your pussy juices on the leather. This beast”—he wraps his fingers around the steering column—“is reserved for us. Only us, beautiful.” He strokes the column with his thick fingers, and I can’t look away.
“You can have it detailed,” I offer. I can’t look away from how he’s stroking the steering column with his thick fingers.
Two fingers on one side, following the curve of the steering wheel. Two fingers on the other side, but on the underside of the wheel. It’s like he’s reliving the memory of fingering my sex and stroking my clit until I shattered on his hand and came so hard that my mind went blank and I thought I’d lost consciousness.
Then he captured my mouth in a tender kiss, and I was lost to a different kind of emotion than lust and passion. I started falling in love with Bobby Bliss.
“Nope, not having it. This baby stays the way she is, smelling like you and me.”
“Okay.” I squeeze my thighs together.
Bobby drives out of the parking lot and gets onto the highway that’ll take us back to Dumas. His warm palm lands on my thigh. “Doing okay? Warm enough?” He squeezes.
I’m not okay. That small and simple touch pools heat in the junction between my thighs. I swallow down the moan, ready to slip from my core as he kneads my flesh, waiting for my answer.
“Yes, thank you for asking.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, a thought chases after them.
