“That wasn’t there! You planted that!”
“Oh, it was there…”
With her index finger, she swiped some icing from the remains of the cupcake and smeared it down my cheek.
“So was that.”
I could feel the grin spread across my face as I challenged, “Is that really how you wanna play this?”
And fuck me if my dick didn’t get harder when she leaned closer, looked me in the eye, and proclaimed, “Absolutely.”
I reached for her, and she half-squealed, half-giggled as I wrapped an arm around her waist. Pulling her back against my front, I prepared to smear the remaining frosting on her cheek.
I knew she could feel my dick against her ass, and I didn’t care.
But before we got into a full-on food fight, that in my fantasy ended with us naked on the kitchen floor covered in colored frosting, Lainey walked in.
****
Jessica
My boss took one look at us and put her hand on her hip.
“What is going on?!”
Aw, heck. I’m fired.
Alan’s hand was still around my waist, and when I tried to step away, his grasp tightened.
And I was pretty sure that was his cock I was feeling against my ass. Either that, or he’d put a steel pipe in his pants when I wasn’t looking.
With zero shame, Alan told her, “We’re making sure the cupcakes are sale-worthy.”
To my utter shock, Lainey stepped forward and simply replied, “And are they?”
He released me so he could hand her the one I’d frosted. “See for yourself.”
Lainey took the offered cupcake, peeled back the liner, and took a bite. All the while glaring at Alan.
She, too, got frosting on her nose. (For the record, I’d totally known it was on my face from the start—I could feel it.) Then her eyes got big as she swallowed.
“Holy crap! These are amazing! What did you do?”
I cocked my head in confusion. “We just followed the recipe.”
“No, this isn’t the recipe for my frosting.”
I didn’t understand and walked over to the recipe box and pulled the one for cupcake frosting out. “Sure it is.” I handed her the laminated card and said, “See?”
Lainey’s eyes got big. “Where did you find this box?”
I pointed to the cabinet below the counter. “In there.”
She threw her head back and groaned. “Seriously? I’ve spent the last six months quietly cursing Mrs. Riley—she’s the lady I bought the bakery from. She taught me how to make her croissants, and she swore she left all the recipes, but I couldn’tfind them, so I thought she was lying. But I didn’t have the energy to fight her about it. I can’t believe they were just in a cupboard. I swear we looked everywhere. Now I feel bad for not believing her.”
“Maybe you could bake her a pie or something,” I suggested.
Lainey chuckled as she flipped through the recipes in the box. “Nah. She doesn’t know I didn’t believe her. Like I said, I never pursued it. But this is amazing. I can’t wait to try some of these recipes.”
