Despite wondering what brought on this change of heart, he’d had about enough of her attitude, especially after the day he had. Stalking around the counter, he pinned her against it, caging her in with his arms braced behind her. “You want to tell me what’s gotten your panties in a wad?”
It took effort, but he suppressed a smile when he felt her body shiver at the soft threat in his voice and bet, from the way her eyes widened and her nipples tightened, it wasn’t entirely from unease. She shifted, averting her gaze and saying, “No, I don’t.”
“Well, that’s too bad. You made your choice yesterday and I’m holding you to it.” Picking up the wide rubber spatula lying within convenient reach on the counter behind her, he ordered, “Turn around and bend over.”
Cassie looked from the spoon to his face, swearing at the lack of control she had whenever he got close to her. How was he able to do this to her with just a look and his body bracketing hers? He wasn’t even touching her. Acting perverse had been her only defense against the need for him she couldn’t seem to escape from, the need causing her sheath to dampen, her nipples to ache. Noting his dead serious expression about using the spatula on her, she remembered where they were. “No way. Damn it, Marc, this is my business. Someone could still walk in.”
“Which is why you’d better comply quick. When you forced your way back into my life and my bed, you knew what I would demand of you. My way, Cassie. Anywhere, anyhow, and anytime I say.” Raising a dark brow, he challenged, “Or are you running again? Already.”
Her face flaming at his taunt, she turned and bent over the counter. There was no way she would give up yet. She had come too far, sacrificed too much to return to him. When he lifted her skirt and shoved her panties down, she bit her lip, both anticipation and dread filling her.
“This is for snapping at me.” Whack! He snapped the spatula against her cheek, leaving a bright red mark that drew a soft cry from her he didn’t feel guilty over. “This is for not telling me what the problem is.” Another whack below the first one.
When a third smack landed, she cried out, “What was that one for?”
“For my pleasure.”
Marc pressed hi
s other hand on her lower back, a gentle reminder to be still as he laid a volley of swats across both buttocks, shifting to the under curve when he had reddened both fleshy mounds. A few hard smacks there followed by two across the top of each thigh ought to give her something to think about the next time she sat down. He was about to give her one more, just for good measure, when they both heard the front bell chime, announcing a customer’s arrival.
“Marc, sir, please, I need to go see who it is.” She prayed he had finished meting out this punishment. She didn’t think she could bear the humiliation if a patron witnessed this.
Leaving her panties down, he dropped her skirt and helped her up. Her red face and watery eyes had his cock stirring, her wariness as she looked up at him satisfying him for now. “Come on, let’s get them what they want.”
“Hello, Mrs. Davies, Mrs. Griffin. Did you find what you wanted?” She cringed when she saw the mayor’s wife and her best friend at her counter. Conscious of her throbbing buttocks and her panties bunched around her thighs under her skirt, she plastered on a smile and prayed they were quick. But if she went by past experience, she could count on them to take their sweet time making their selections.
“Hello, Cassie, and Marc! We knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away from the bakery for long even though Martha is no longer running it,” Madge Davies said with a beaming smile.
“Well, Cassie tempted me with not only her baking but her pretty blue eyes. How could I stay away?”
At her rude snort, he retaliated by sliding his hand under her skirt and giving her sore ass a tight squeeze in warning. When would she learn, she bemoaned, even though she was grateful for his repositioning shift that blocked the women from seeing anything.
“You always were a flirt. Are these rolls fresh, dear?” Mrs. Davies pointed to some sourdough rolls.
With an audible swallow around the lump lodged in her throat, she managed not to move in fear of giving the women a view of where Marc had his hand. “Made them this morning.” Leaning slightly, she slid open the case to lift the rolls out, trying and failing to ignore the way his hand covering the still stinging marks from the spatula reignited the discomfort. Stifling a gasp, she straightened with the tray then almost groaned aloud when his hand remained where it was, caressing her bare cheeks. “How many would you like?”
“Madge, did you see the potato rolls over here?” Betty Griffin asked her friend, both women oblivious of her desire for them to hurry.
When they moved down the counter, she hissed at Marc, “Stop that before they see!”
Marc looked at her flustered face, saw the arousal she couldn’t hide in those expressive eyes, the worried mortification in her uneasy glances. Stepping closer to her side, blocking her even more from the two women, he squeezed her buttock with a simple, succinct reply. “No.” His look dared her to argue as he kneaded the fleshy mound then traced over the marks from the rubber spatula. Watching her with a keen eye, he slid one finger down her crack to dip between her moist folds. “I love your pussy,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s so tight,” he delved deeper, “and so warm,” he shifted to tease her clit, “and so wet.” Swirling his finger in her moisture, he coated it liberally with her juices before sliding back up her crack and moistening the tight rim of her anus.
“Marc,” she moaned, then bit her lip when he glared at her. Sending a swift glance at her customers, she added, “Sir. Please stop.”
“Cassie, dear, will you give me a deal on these two pies?” Betty asked.
“Yes, Mrs. Griffin. You can have both for the regular price of one,” she agreed without hesitation. Right then, with his finger tempting her anus with light, damp strokes, she’d agree to anything to get them out of there.
“Very good. I’ll take them and half a dozen of these dinner rolls.”
Much to her chagrin, he moved the one step over with her, making it look like he was helping her. Bending again to open the case, she couldn’t prevent a shocked gasp when his finger slid into her ass.
“Are you all right?” Mrs. Davies asked as she joined her friend. “You look flushed, Cassie.”
“I’m just warm from baking all day.” Setting the pies and rolls up on the counter, her desperate attempt to stifle her body’s reaction to his probing finger met with failure. “Will that be all?” She cursed her shaken voice and Marc under her breath.
“I haven’t made my selections yet,” Mrs. Davies said. “Marc, what do you suggest for Jim’s dessert tomorrow?”