The Baker (16 page)

Ian blinked.
What?

Cameron elbowed him in the ribs. “That’s you, Ian. Get your cute little ass up there, and take what you deserve.”

Ian rose, feeling slightly dizzy, and made his way to the front, accompanied by thundering applause.
I’ve won first place.
Please, God, don’t let me faint.
He took the trophy and accompanying certificate and couldn’t have stopped the smile splitting his lips if he’d tried. He was far less nervous when he returned to his seat, and all he wanted was a hug from Cameron. The detective looked proud enough to make anyone think he’d won himself.

“Congratulations, Ian.” Cameron gave him a manly slap on the back, pretty much all they could do in public, but his eyes were telling a different story.

“Thank you.” Ian grinned and settled back. He was so distracted he had no idea who won the other awards. He didn’t even care if his father won all of them—he’d managed to get first place.

When Cameron elbowed him again, a big grin on his face, Ian startled. “What?”

“You won another one. Second place for your ‘innovative’ chocolate chip scones. Go on, you know the drill now.” Cameron made shooing motions with his hand, and Ian blinked.

Shaking his head, but with the elation of yet another victory under his belt, he watched his father return to his seat before he ascended the few steps to the stage. He took his slightly smaller trophy and another certificate, this time with the knowledge of actually having beat his father outright.
Go me!

“COME HERE.”
Cameron was right behind Ian.

“Give me a moment.” Ian went to the living room and carefully deposited the trophies—
two
of them; he couldn’t quite believe this wasn’t a wonderful dream—on the mantelpiece, placing the certificates right behind them. He’d have to find a better spot eventually, maybe even in his café, but they were safe here for now.

Then he turned and walked back to Cameron, who had managed to get rid of his outerwear and shoes, and looked as though he was about to continue the striptease right there in the hallway. Ian enjoyed raking his gaze over the muscular body that was about to be put to good use doing naughty things to him, if all went to plan and if the smoldering look in Cameron’s eyes was any indication.

His detective was smoking hot. But it was far more than his body that made Ian love him so fiercely. When Cameron had been given the choice of being promoted to the position of chief of police, after making it through all the interviews, or being openly gay and remaining a detective, Cameron had told the committee that was no choice at all. Cameron was the only person, other than Aileen and her family, who had stood by Ian like that. Even a career move he had always wanted had not been able to change Cameron’s priorities. Ian would always love him just a little more because of it.

“What we need is less thinking and more fucking.” Cameron walked up to Ian and caressed his ass through the kilt. “I’ve spent the entire day fantasizing about what you’re wearing under that kilt. Half of me is hoping the rumors are true, and the other half has been shuddering at the thought of having your family jewels exposed to the freezing cold.”

Ian laughed and took Cameron by the hand, tugging him in the direction of the stairs. “Follow me to the bedroom, and you’ll find out.”

They raced upstairs, and Cameron was naked before Ian had done more than take off his jacket and waistcoat. He’d left his snow-covered shoes downstairs, and was about to take off the bow tie when Cameron stepped up to him.

“Allow me?” Cameron put his hands on Ian’s hips and smiled. “I am so damn proud of you, sweetheart! But you’ve been driving me nuts with that enticing piece of fabric hiding part of your assets. I’d like to show you how much I appreciate those, and then we can go celebrate the rest, okay?”

“Please.” Ian was very much in favor of that plan. He’d been fully hard ever since they’d entered their home, and he loved it when Cameron was so overcome by lust that hard and fast was the only speed he was able to go at. Ian had anticipated what was coming since this morning and was ready for it in every sense.

Cameron got rid of Ian’s bow tie, then the shirt. His hard cock kept bumping Ian every time they came close enough, and he was beginning to hurt with arousal. The sporran was next, and Cameron carefully put it aside, then stepped back and admired his handiwork. Ian raised an eyebrow, but Cameron pushed him backward until his calves hit the bed. Then he went to his knees, put his hands on Ian’s thighs, just above the knees, and looked up.

“Raise the kilt for me, so I can see?” Cameron’s eyes shone with lust.

Ian blushed but did as his lover asked.

Cameron’s breath sped up the higher the kilt went until a harsh “Fuck” told Ian his man had found what he’d been looking for.

“Leather.” Cameron took a deep breath. “A fucking leather jockstrap.”

Ian grinned.

“Turn ’round for me?” Cameron reached for the lube where they kept it under the pillow, but his gaze never left Ian’s lower body.

Ian bent slightly as he turned, making sure Cameron would see the second surprise Ian had for him.

“Shit!” Cameron grabbed Ian’s thighs in a bruising grip. “You’ve been wearing a butt plug as well? I’m going to come from looking at that picture if I’m not careful. Fuck, that’s so hot!”

“Glad you like it.” Ian wiggled his butt, loving Cameron’s resulting groan. “You were right. That last visit to the restroom wasn’t strictly necessary. But I had plans and a well-filled sporran.”

Cameron laughed, then followed with a quick lick across one asscheek that made Ian weak in the knees. He bent forward, put his elbows on the bed, and spread his legs as far as possible in a clear invitation. Cameron rose, pulled out the butt plug quickly but carefully, and pushed inside Ian, right past the jockstrap, in one hard thrust.

Yep, one “hard and fast” coming up. Luckily they’d both gotten tested about a month ago and dispensed with the condoms. Otherwise they might have both expired from need.

“God that feels so good, sweetheart.” Cameron had paused once he was all the way inside but was trembling with the effort of holding back to give Ian time to adjust.

“I’m good.” Ian shook his ass, and they both moaned with the pleasure. “Move! Now!”

Cameron did. He pulled back out, then thrust forward with enough force to make Ian think he’d come in about five seconds. Then Cameron started to fuck him in earnest.

Hard and fast and deep.

Cameron’s grip on Ian’s hips was merciless, and the slapping of flesh on flesh plus the scent of sweat and arousal made Ian moan. Cameron stepped it up a notch, and Ian realized he was about to come without a single touch to his cock.

Harder and faster and deeper.

“Fuck.” Ian started to come before he knew what hit him. The pleasure as Cameron kept hitting his prostate with deadly accuracy was indescribable, and he kept shooting while he arched his back and screamed in ecstasy. Cameron fucked him all the way through his orgasm, and as soon as Ian collapsed face-first onto the bed, totally sated and still trembling, Cameron roared, stiffened, and shot inside Ian with a force that made him want to come again.

“Shit.” Cameron collapsed onto Ian’s back and gasped for breath.

Minutes later, just before he became too heavy for Ian, Cameron moved away, staggered to the bathroom, and returned with a warm washcloth. Ian watched it all in a haze of aftershocks. When he realized Cameron had removed the rest of his clothing, Ian moved under the covers, and Cameron followed.

He moved into his partner’s arms and tilted up his head for a kiss. Long and tender, it was everything their epic fuck hadn’t been and was just as good.

“I guess I could wear a kilt more often.” Ian grinned and caressed Cameron’s cheek. “I had no idea it would get you
this
hot.”

“Me neither.” Cameron grinned. “And I have to admit, though I might regret it, the anticipation was half the fun.”

Ian laughed. “Well, you do know we bakers have a saying for that?”

“You do.” Cameron wiggled closer and settled in.

“Yep.” Ian made a serious face. “Bakers have to let it rise first.”

Cameron blinked, then laughed with the kind of unrestrained happiness Ian loved. As far as he was concerned, that shared joy was all they needed for the rest of their lives.

A Workplace Encounters book

By Serena Yates

Joshua Becket enjoys the independence of being a truck driver. He has been saving for his own rig, but a declining economy and bad management stand in his way. Hope comes when Robert Oldfield buys the company. He is determined to make Gordon Trucking a success, and when he rides with Joshua in an attempt to learn the business, Joshua finds out why—Robert is trying to prove his worth to the parents who disowned him. Lust ignites and both men recognize the possibility for happiness together, but Joshua worries about his coworkers’ reactions. Then a competitor starts playing dirty, mysterious accidents sabotage Robert’s plans, and the resulting crisis might end Joshua’s chance for a future with a job and a man he loves—permanently.

Chapter One

“PICKUP FOR
Gordon Trucking?” Joshua Becket handed the uniformed guard at the gate to the tire factory south of Nashville, Tennessee his documentation, trying to suppress a yawn. Ten hours of enforced rest after delivering his last cargo early yesterday evening weren’t much use when he’d been unable to sleep more than three or four of them.

“Everything seems to be in order.” The guard looked up, dark eyes peering into Joshua’s cab as if looking for contraband before meeting Joshua’s gaze. “Drive straight ahead about three hundred feet and the loading dock will be on your left. The guys there will know which trailer is yours.”

“Thanks.” Josh closed the window against the chill of an early March morning and focused on getting his semi to where he needed to be without causing any damage.

Fuck, but he was exhausted. The lack of financial security which endangered the plans for his future sat like a rock in the pit of his gut. It just wouldn’t go away, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. He might have just enough money to make his rent and get some food, but recent pay cuts had reduced the amount left to go into his savings account this month. Gordon Trucking, a medium-sized company with ten trucks and five semis, was more than a little old-fashioned, probably because it was family owned. He’d thought the ownership and smaller size would be an advantage, having hated his previous employer. They were big, very impersonal, and only did intrastate jobs. Barely out of high school, with a fresh commercial driver’s license, he hadn’t had much choice. Pretty much nobody wanted inexperienced drivers on long-haul jobs across the country.

The minute he’d turned twenty-one just over three years ago, he had applied for several jobs with small and medium-sized companies. Had he made a mistake going with these guys? They’d seemed nice and everything had gone well initially. But with the recent economic downturn, remaining competitive without modern equipment wasn’t happening. Hence, the recent pay cuts.

With a choice between either losing their jobs or accepting lower wages, all the employees had voted for staying on. Not even a union would have helped them. But with the lower pay and only a ridiculously low amount left to go into savings, Joshua’s goal of saving up for his own rig moved further and further into the future each month. And without his own rig he could never go for the more lucrative jobs he knew were out there.

Startled by his sudden arrival at the ramp, he slowed down and looked for someone in charge. A large, burly guy in overalls emphasizing his considerable muscle mass stood on the dock, clipboard in hand. Josh approached him, stopped the semi, and rolled down his window so they could talk.

“Gordon Trucking?” The overseer must have seen the logo on the outside of the cab.

“Yeah, looking for a load of tires to go to Ford’s Chicago Assembly.” Josh wasn’t thrilled with a shipment he could get to within his eleven hour work limit, without the next freight consignment in sight, but he had to take what was available.

“Third berth from the back.” Mr. I’m-in-charge nodded at him briefly. “Don’t forget to sign for it and drop the papers off on your way out.”

“Sure.” Josh almost shook his head. What did the guy take him for? A rank beginner? He chuckled as he drove toward the back of the dock, having to admit that strangers often underestimated his age.

Even though he’d turned twenty-four recently, he still got carded on a regular basis. Baby-face was one of the nicer nicknames his colleagues called him. What they or anyone else thought didn’t matter, though. They’d never accept him. Truckers were a tough crowd, and only the manliest of the machos really thrived in this sort of environment. He may have the muscles to show for it, but at barely six feet, he wasn’t exactly a powerful presence. Not compared to some of the guys at Gordon Trucking, or some of the men he’d run into on the highway, at the many truck stops he frequented on a regular basis.