Glazed (15 page)

He pressed a kiss against the back of her neck and massaged her breast, running a thumb over the nipple. It tightened to a hard little bud in response to his touch. He could just see the edge of the areola peeking out from beneath his thumb, a delicious shade of pink that made his mouth water, reminding him of the strawberry glaze he whipped up every morning at the shop. Memories of licking it from her body drove him to grip her shoulders and turn her to face him. Her nipples brushed his chest, and as he bent his head to kiss them his balls tightened. An anticipatory shiver raced down his spine as a tight bud brushed his lips, and he closed his mouth around it. She tasted sweet, even without the sugary glaze he’d smeared over her most sensitive areas before. She arched her back again and her flesh pressed against his face, warm and soft. Inside his mouth, he drew the tip of his tongue across her nipple, causing her to gasp. He could listen to that sound all day. Reaching below, he dipped his fingers between her thighs, eager to hear it again.

She shifted her hips against his hand and the hard nub of her clit pressed against his fingertips. He began to massage it, pleasantly surprised to find her skin slick. She must’ve woken up ready like he had. He rubbed harder and she began to breathe hard against the top of his bowed head. Her nipple was still in his mouth, and he worked his tongue against its hardness as he slipped a finger inside her, curving it in search of the spot that would make her cry out. She did, and he stroked it hard, continuing to rub her clit with his thumb as he did so. She writhed, anchored to him by mouth and hand. Her breasts heaved against his face and her hips bore down on his hand as she came. He groaned, caught up in the ecstasy of feeling and hearing her lose herself to him.

When he couldn’t feel her pussy contracting around his finger anymore he stopped, withdrawing and raising his head from her breasts. His cock throbbed and ached with the need to be inside her, but something else pulled at his inflamed consciousness, a desire that was somehow more intense. No one had ever made him feel quite this way before – it went beyond horniness. Way beyond. He’d realized it when she’d broken up with him, and the urge to tell her now was irresistible. “Kelly,” he said, “I love you.”

Her gorgeous hazel eyes widened, but her mouth curved into a smile. The way her body softened against his told him her answer before she spoke it.  “I love you too.”

Her reply lifted his heart and caught him totally in its grip, and he felt drawn to her body like a piece of iron to a magnet. His desire for her was as intense and solid as a hand wrapped around his cock, and for a second he thought he would come right there and then. Every second he spent outside of her felt like an eternity. Thank God he didn’t have to pause to put on a condom. He rolled on top of her and settled between her open legs, unable to resist any longer.

Sliding into her was ecstasy. She was as tight as always and wetter than ever, a mind-blowing combination. The desire to take her sent energy surging through his hips, and he used that strength to press himself hard and deep inside as his arms trembled – not beneath his weight, but because the sheer pleasure of sharing her body was almost too much for him. Still, he was desperate for more of her.  He found her mouth with his, kissing her hard.

She moaned as she responded, instantly sliding her tongue into his mouth. The sound almost made him come. An electrifying shiver raced down his spine when she reached down and cupped his ass, urging him further in with her hands and her body as she gripped him tight inside, and he knew he was done. He gave himself over to the inevitable, thrusting with as much force as he could muster and letting her milk him for all he was worth.

****

Kelly nearly tripped over the morning paper when she and Derek exited her apartment, both still flushed with the excitement of lovemaking. Derek had left Jason in charge of opening the donut house that morning and was eager to relieve him of the responsibility. She’d decided to come with him to the shop and enjoy his company along with breakfast. She stooped to pick up the paper and prepared to toss it inside without further ado. The headline caught her eye first, causing her to gasp as a weight promptly settled itself into the pit of her stomach.

“What?” Derek was leaning over her shoulder, peering down in search of the cause of interest.

“Local Business Owner Flashes Town,” she read, her lips numb.

“What!” It was more an exclamation now than a question, and he snatched the paper from her hand. “Ugh…” he groaned after taking several minutes to read the article.

Kelly took it back and poured over the text. “This is absolutely ridiculous,” she said. “They made you out to be some sort of creep!”

Nearly as shocking as the article’s insinuations was the photo that took up a good deal of the front page – the picture Kelly had taken of Derek with her phone. Black bars had been placed over his ass for modesty, but it was otherwise unchanged. “They can’t just print this!” she cried. “It’s my photo, and this is downright slanderous!”

Derek silently shot the paper a dirty look.

“We have to go to the newspaper office,” Kelly said. “I won’t let them get away with this.”

Derek placed a hand on her arm just as she turned on her heel, preparing to stomp determinedly across the parking lot to his truck. “We’ve got to check on the shop first. Those protesters are probably having a heyday with this, and I left Jason and Barbara to fend for themselves.”

“Alright,” she agreed reluctantly. Her blood was boiling, and she was eager to give the Blue Mills Times’ staff a piece of her mind. “Let’s go.”

****

Protesters still crowded the sidewalk in front of the Blue Mills Donut House, though there seemed to be less of them than there had been the day before. “Huh,” Derek said as he peered suspiciously around the corner of the building, “I thought there’d be more of them, if anything.”

“What they lack in numbers they make up for in noise,” Kelly replied, wrinkling her nose at the sign-wavers.

“True,” he admitted. “Let’s use the backdoor.”

Derek pulled out his key and they slipped quietly into the bakery to find Barbara pulling a fresh batch of donuts from the fryer that had broken weeks ago. “The repairman stopped by with the replacement part this morning,” she explained, seeing Derek’s look of surprise.

He smiled at her. At least there was one thing to be grateful for. “Jason’s up front then?”

She nodded, donning a grim expression. “And I don’t envy him.”

“Any particular reason?” Derek asked, casting a glance toward the front of the store, where the protesters could be seen picketing outside.

“When it’s not one of those college girls begging for your autograph it’s a reporter from the Times whining for an interview,” she said. “A news station even came and filmed the protesters and the shop. Most of them are convinced you’ve been hiding out in the kitchen all along. Three of the girls and one journalist have already tried to sneak back here, and Jason had to chuck a jelly-filled at the journalist’s head to keep him out.”

Derek had a sudden vision of a jelly-filled donut exploding all over Steven Walters’ ridiculous trench coat, painting it raspberry-colored. Though he had trouble summoning pity for Walters, he felt a stab of guilt for leaving Jason to deal with this while he himself lay in Kelly’s bed, unaware of the ordeal.

“Rough morning?” Derek asked, finding Jason at the cash register.

A little of the tension seemed to drain out of Jason’s shoulders when he saw Derek. “You could say that. I threw a donut at someone for the first time today.”

Derek nodded. “Barbara told me.”

“I assume you’ve seen the paper?” Jason asked.

“Yeah,” Derek replied, furrowing his brow at the memory.

Jason motioned toward one of the cabinets that lined the counter beneath the register. “If you hadn’t, I was going to say I’ve got at least a dozen copies in there. People have been bringing them in all day. Several women left theirs behind hoping you’d sign them.”

Derek resisted the urge to pound his fist on the counter and sighed instead. How many times did he have to say he wasn’t giving autographs?

“I hate to do this to you, Jason,” Derek said, “but do you think you could handle things here a little longer? Kelly and I have got some business with the Blue Mills Times.”

****

As it turned out, the protesters hadn’t dwindled in number, but divided. Kelly and Derek discovered the second half of them in the parking lot in front of the Blue Mills Times’ office, waving signs and chanting. At the sight of Derek they burst into frenzy, shaking fists and emitting general shouts of indignation. Kelly tightened her grip on Derek’s arm and urged him toward the door, eager to escape the hostile crowd.

What were they doing here anyway? Weren’t they pleased with the article the Times had published, probably due to their provocation?

“Can I help you?” A receptionist looked up from desk, eyes narrowed over the rims of her glasses.

Derek responded with a sharp look of his own. “I’m Derek Kerr, and I want to speak with whoever’s in charge here. Immediately.”

She seemed surprised when Derek first identified himself, but that quickly faded to a look of agitation. “Have a seat.”

Derek remained standing. Kelly stayed at his side, ignoring the small collection of mismatched plastic chairs that’d been shoved against one wall. The receptionist disappeared down the nearby hallway and into an office, presumably to announce Derek’s presence.

“Mr. McGuire will see you now,” she said when she returned a few moments later.

Kelly followed Derek down the hall and through an open door into Mr. McGuire’s office. Inside, they discovered a middle-aged man sitting behind a desk that featured a small brass plaque stamped with ‘editor in chief’. Kelly narrowed her eyes at the engraved title, wondering just what kind of man would slander one of the relatively few local businessmen Blue Mills had for the sake of earning a few bucks off an unfair scandal.

“Mr. Kerr,” McGuire said, extending a hand across the desk.

Derek didn’t take it, but plunged immediately into the heart of the matter. “I’m here because of the article you ran about me.”

McGuire withdrew his hand slowly, a frown spreading across his face.

“The article was absolutely ridiculous!” Kelly exclaimed, since McGuire appeared to be having a difficult time determining what to say.

“It’s news,” McGuire replied, turning his palms up in a plaintive gesture.

“It’s sensationalistic, inaccurate news,” Kelly snapped. She’d brought a copy of the paper along and she raised it now, reading a passage from the article aloud. “
Some have suggested that Mr. Kerr was fleeing a romantic spat when the picture was taken, or perhaps just enjoying the novelty of public nudity
.” She peered over the top of the paper, narrowing her eyes at the editor. “Who suggested that, one of the protesters from the First Baptist Church of Blue Mills?”

McGuire shifted in his seat in a way that lent credence to Kelly’s suggestion. “I’m not sure. I didn’t write the article.”

“But you published it,” Derek said, placing a hand on Kelly’s shoulder as if to calm her, “and by doing so you’ve threatened my business – my livelihood, as well as my employees’.”

“Well,” McGuire snapped, “may I suggest that you refrain from running nude through the streets if having people find out about it bothers you so much?”