After service, I ran home to change and grab my laptop. I threw on short jean shorts, a three-quarter sleeve, white, loose, silk blouse, and low top classic black Converse sneakers. Maybe it was the layered neckpiece I’d tossed on to spruce it up. In all honesty, I never got dressed for work unless I was scheduled for a meeting.
After following the trail of her eyes up my body, I widened my eyes sarcastically and matched my tone in the same sentiment when I informed, “I don’t know how you get so much from so little. The newest item I’m rocking, you can’t see...”
I lost my train of thought when Angela sauntered over to me with her head angled toward my pelvis and her eyes squinted.
“What are you do—”
“Is that a...?” With her hand, she inspected my inner left thigh somewhat coarsely. I glanced down at her with incredulity. “Zo, are these hickeys?”
“What?” I jumped back and tossed my things on a nearby table. “What are you talking—” I gasped!
As I examined myself, I noticed hues of pink and purple on both my inner thighs. I knew my shorts were short—it was August in a heat box of a bakery—but I didn’t know they exposed so much. Stenton left passion marks in intimate places, trailing up to my most intimate place.
“Did he do this on purpose?” I accidentally asked outside of my panicking head. I squeezed my eyes at that slip.
Angela drew in a sharp breath. “So you did do Stenton this weekend!”
I grabbed my head, in total exasperation. “Yes.” I sighed. “I mean, no!” I winced. “Well, kinda.” I confused even myself.
“Well, damn. Was it that good that you can’t give a coherent answer?”
I gave a dramatic exhale as I rolled my eyes. I then turned to grab my things and headed towards my office.
“Good for you, Zo. Nothing wrong with having the pipes unclogged,” Angela called out to my back. And although I knew it was sincere, I couldn’t give credence to it because I had yet to figure it out myself.
I spent the first hour of work clearing my books. Paperwork wasn’t the worst part of being a business owner for me; interacting with customers was. When it was time for Angela to pack up to go home, I headed out to the front and waited on our Sunday crowd. We had two large-order pickups that night that she had to package and fill me in on.
As she was working on packing a sheet cake, I was finishing up with a customer when my phone went off. It was a text from Stenton. I gave a cursory peek to my phone there on the counter as I tapped into the register.
Stenton: I gotta sweet tooth I need to satisfy.
I gasped and then giggled nervously in front of a customer. Was this his way of making plans to see me again? Will he have me deliver cupcakes to him when I get off? My spine shivered at the thought of that.
Me: What specifically are you craving?
Stenton: Zoey Custard
My stomach flipped with excitement and I felt my sex contract. I couldn’t believe how aroused I’d instantly become by a text.
Me: Hmmmm... Not sure if we have it available now, but I can arrange for a batch to be whipped up for special order.
Stenton: How soon?
I looked at my wristwatch. I still had four hours to go.
Me: Try after 8.
Stenton: Can’t wait that long. I’ve been waiting all day already.
My pulse quickened. I felt my mouth go dry as I grabbed the edge of the counter to balance myself. Once I was able to gather my bearings, I didn’t know how to reply. I found myself pulling at my bottom lip, contemplating my response.
I must have taken too long. Another text came through.
Stenton: I want to come see you. Now.
Me: I’m working. You know how you don’t like the public exposure.
“Hey,” Angela called from behind me. “I’m about to hit the road. You need to pee before I go?”
I nodded my head. I needed to address my suddenly sodden panties. As I took care of my needs in the bathroom, I realized Stenton never texted back. On the way back to the register, I kept checking my phone like the obsessed teen Stenton had the power to reduce me to.