Dirty Talker: A Single Dads Club Romance Read online

Page 9


  Reaching down he fishes a condom out of the pocket of his jeans, tearing open the packet.

  “Would you like me to do the honors?” I ask, sliding down from the table.

  My feet land on the floor, but I fall to my knees, hooking both my fingers into his boxers and freeing the cock my mouth waters for.

  He has such a beautiful cock. I swear before Dane, I never even knew you could attribute that word to a penis.

  He hands me the condom. A small gasp escapes him when I roll it down and I know I don’t have long before he hauls me onto the table to screw me. My body aches to feel him inside me.

  His hand grabs my hips, and I’m sitting on the edge before I can blink. The one thing I realized when I’ve been with Dane in the past is that he has no qualms of placing me exactly where he wants me. There’s something animalistic about it though, and that only excites me more.

  I look into his eyes as he’s guiding himself into me, there’s so much lust and arousal in the room that it feels almost stifling. Inch by inch he pushes into me until he’s as deep as he’ll get. He moves one of my stray hairs from my ponytail behind my ear and leans in for a kiss.

  Our kiss reaches the frantic stage fast, and he starts drilling into me repeatedly, his hands holding my legs up under my thighs as I’m hanging over the metal table. A table I’ll be disinfecting tomorrow numerous times.

  “Jesus, you always feel so fucking good,” he says in my ear as he drags his cock in and out of me, his hips roll over and over again.

  My ass rocks into him, our two bodies grinding together as moans and sighs bounce off every wall in the room. I place my palms flat against the metal, needing leverage to get him even deeper. My tits bounce up and down with each thrust, something he doesn’t miss. His callused hands skim up my thighs to my hips and ass, continuing to dictate the rate we’re going.

  “I’ll never get tired of you. I need this pussy every time I wake up. Be prepared for morning calls.”

  I have no doubt he’s telling the truth.

  “Harder, Dane. Harder,” I pant, sweat starting to drip between my breasts.

  His fingers grip my ass harder and he plunges into me with such ferocity, I gasp for a breath.

  “Hard enough baby?” He continues to fuck me to the hilt and my arms are starting to lose strength, my legs already straining to hold up my weight.

  “Yes.”

  He moves one leg to rest against his shoulder, hitting me in a completely different place inside. I gasp at the sheer amount of pleasure that rips through me every time he thrusts.

  His thumb massages my clit and I feel my orgasm building. He continues working my body, his own sweat dripping onto my stomach.

  “Damn, baby, your pussy is so fucking wet.”

  My hands find the edge of the table and I grip it hard to keep my body stable so he can hit that spot every time.

  He skips a few gears and suddenly we’re speeding up a hill and just like minutes earlier, there’s no breaking, no warning, we fly right over the edge and I cry out.

  My back arches off the now slippery surface and Dane’s arm wraps around my leg in the air to make sure he continues to control my climax.

  “That’s it, baby, scream my name.”

  “Oh fuck, Dane!” I scream.

  “Again.” His face contorts into a half painful, half lust filled expression and he pumps into me one more time and stills.

  “Ava,” his voice is low and he twitches as he comes.

  Done and spent, my arms extend out on the table and I catch the breath Dane stole from me.

  This friends-with-benefits thing might just be the best decision I’ve ever made.

  “Next time, we’re using frosting.” He winks, draws out of me and walks back to the bathroom.

  I sit up, feeling slightly self-conscious now that it’s all over. He returns a second later as I’m throwing my t-shirt over my head.

  “Name your flavor,” I say, and he approaches me, swinging both arms around me.

  “You know my favorite.”

  “Peanut butter and chocolate.” I smile.

  “Well, you actually, but I’ll take what I can get.” He winks and then takes the hem of my shirt and strips it from my body. “I’m not a one and done kind of guy. Let’s eat some cupcakes and then fuck again.”

  “I’m not sure what you want more of…me or my cupcakes.”

  He swipes one from the tray and bites into it. “That’s the beauty, I don’t have to choose.” He smirks, and I take my finger and dip it into the frosting of his cupcake. “There. Now, wipe that on your tit and I have my perfect dessert.”

  His words shouldn’t ignite firecrackers inside my stomach, but damn if my body ever listens when it comes to Dane Murray.

  12

  Dane

  I open the door to the Mad Batter and Toby and all his teammates file in along with their parents.

  Ava’s eyes widen as she places another tray of cookies in the glass case.

  “What’s going on?” she asks.

  Toby runs up to the counter, his friends following closely behind. They huddle around Ava like she’s Bryce Harper or some other Gatorade promoting player in the majors.

  “Miss Ava, we won!” Toby screams and all the players start screaming.

  They’re all amped up after winning their first game of fall ball. Let’s just say it’s been a rough one.

  “You did? Well, then, you need a cookie!” She pulls out a tray of her famous Eat Me cookies iced in pink and purple and turquoise.

  The boys’ hands freeze, none of them grabbing one.

  “Those are for girls,” one of them says.

  Ava looks down and then places the tray back, pulling out another one with dinosaurs and teddy bears.

  “Those are for babies,” the same boy says, which stops every other boy from taking their fill.

  “I swear, when I was young a cookie was a cookie.” She looks over the heads of the boys to me, a smile in place. A smile I didn’t used to get until our deal to be friends-with-benefits.

  If I were arrogant I’d say she’s smiling because she’s still in the euphoria my dick created for her last night. But then I’d have to admit, I brought the boys here as an excuse to see her because I’m still in a state of bliss after last night, too.

  “Sorry boys, that’s all the kinds I have. I’ll put it on my list to make some baseball ones, okay?”

  All the boys shrug, and their hands dig in to grab one, appeased by her answer.

  “Take a seat at the tables.” I point to the section of tables one of the moms is pushing together.

  They scramble and I wait for the parents to each place their order and find a seat in the small bakery. When it’s finally my turn, I pull out my wallet to pay for the cookies.

  “What would the coach like?” Ava bites down on her lower lip.

  I lean over the counter. “Ten minutes with the baker in the storage room.”

  Ava pretends to look at the chalkboard sign above her head.

  “Hmm, I don’t see that.” The spark in her hazel eyes is apparent and the caveman inside of me hopes her playfulness is due to last night.

  “I think it’s a special. Maybe exclusive for one person.”

  She giggles, grabbing a plate and placing a cookie on it, sliding it across the counter.

  I glance down to the Eat Me cookie. “Are you giving me instructions now?” I look over my shoulder, finding the parents and kids busy and not paying us any attention. I pick it up and spread my tongue over the top in an exaggerated lick, flattening and widening it.

  “You are truly something.” She waves my antic off.

  “You’re the one who asked. I’m just displaying my skills.” I bite the cookie, sliding the cash across the counter.

  “Oh, I’m acquainted with your skills, Dane.” Her own gaze takes in the room and then she slides the money back over to me.

  “Cookies are on me.”

  “No, you don’t.” I slide i
t back her way. “Take it, really.”

  She hems and haws before, opening the cash register and grabbing my change.

  “Thank you.” She hands me the change, which I drop in the tip jar.

  I look through the open window into the kitchen spotting a six-tier wedding cake on the table.

  “Do you have a wedding or is that another one for the portfolio?”

  She looks over her shoulder, dismissing it right away. “Portfolio.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Just then one of the moms approaches the counter to grab some napkins and she checks out where we’re looking.

  “Did you make that?” she asks Ava.

  Ava’s face blushes and she nods, nibbling on the inside of her cheek.

  “Yeah, she’s a fantastic baker.”

  Ava shoots me a glare that says shut-up.

  “Those flowers look so real. Are they?” the woman asks, craning her neck to see it.

  “They’re sugar.” Ava steps to the side. “Would you like to see it?”

  The mom, Krystal, eyes me, clearly surprised we have this kind of talent in Climax Cove, and then circles around the counter right through to the back. Ava and I follow.

  “You should enter one of those cake competitions on the Food Network,” Krystal says, walking around the cake like she’s a judge. “Why the hell are you in Climax Cove?”

  “Excuse me?” Ava asks.

  “I mean, you’re way too talented to be here. You should be in the city where people will spend five grand on a wedding cake.” She focuses on the tray of sugar flowers that Ava must have been working on before the team barged in.

  “Heidi, Kate, get in here and see this!” she calls out to the seating area.

  Krystal, Heidi and Kate are like the mom brigade of Climax Cove. They have their hands in everything from fundraisers to extracurricular activities. They’re the team moms, the PTA leaders, the volunteers at school. The overzealous, and overbearing kind of parents.

  The tall blonde and the shorter brunette walk in, coffees in hand.

  “Who did this?” Heidi swings her long blonde hair off her shoulders, stepping closer.

  “She did.” Krystal points to Ava who’s about as red as a tomato and ready to hide under the table.

  Heidi and Kate’s eyes shift to Ava, both of their mouths ajar.

  “It’s gorgeous and makes me want to get married all over again,” Kate says, setting her coffee down on the table.

  “Thank you,” Ava says with the smallest voice I’ve ever heard come out of her mouth.

  “Whose is it?” Heidi asks.

  “No one’s. I just shoot it for my portfolio,” Ava admits, and they all scoff.

  “What do you do with the cake?” Kate asks.

  “The last one I made, I took down to Veteran’s Hall.”

  They all nod, their eyes focused on the extravagant cake.

  “Oh my God! I have the best idea,” Kate says, pulling her phone out of her jacket.

  Ava’s eyes shift to mine in a what’s going on question.

  Kate walks away toward the storage room, whispering into the phone and by the time she returns she’s smiling so wide you’d think someone just told her she doesn’t have to do any more school fundraisers for the rest of her life.

  “So, I’m hoping it’s okay, but I have my in-laws walking down here.”

  I smile knowing exactly what Kate just did.

  Based on Ava’s fidgeting with her hands she’s skeptical. “Okay. Why?”

  The boys are getting louder and I know most of the dads are probably just talking sports and not paying attention and the last thing I want is for the boys to break something in her shop. So, I walk over to the window and take a peek, finding them all flipping a water bottle in the air to see how it lands.

  “Boys, simmer down.”

  One of the dads catches me and waves me off to say he’ll handle it.

  “I’m married to Donnie Vitner, his parents own Double D’s,” Kate says.

  “Okay. And?” Ava asks, her gaze shifting to me.

  “They could take the cake off your hands once you’re finished with it and serve it at the restaurant. At least you’d get something for it.”

  “Not the five grand like she should.” Krystal is still in awe. “If I ever get a ring on this finger again,” she holds up her hands, wiggling her ring finger, “you’re doing my cake.”

  I could make a few jokes right now, but I’m not about to ruin this for Ava.

  “Katie?” Debbie’s voice hollers into the bakery.

  “Back here, Ma,” Kate says and a second later Debbie walks in and her jaw hits the floor.

  “You weren’t lying.” Debbie takes her time to examine the cake as though it won’t be sliced into pieces and served.

  “Hi, Ava, sorry I haven’t been by yet,” Debbie says.

  “So, Ava,” Kate interrupts. “The diner used to get pies from the Baking Basket before Norma closed. Lately, my father-in-law has been trying to bake the desserts himself.” She shares a look with Debbie. “It’s not working out very well,” Kate adds.

  “He’s more of a BLT and burger type cook.” Debbie pats Ava’s arm.

  “I don’t know why we didn’t think about this sooner,” Kate says, shaking her head.

  “Then it’s set.” Ava’s gaze shifts to me when I finally speak after hanging out in the background.

  “How much?” Debbie asks. “I’ll definitely take the cakes after you’re finished with them. How many are you planning on doing?”

  “Um.” Ava hiccups for a response, probably not used to how fast things can get done in a small town. No emails, texts or voice messages. All business is done face-to-face.

  “She’ll make one a week. You can freeze the layers and take them out as needed. You’ll pay half of what she’d normally charge?” I quirk my eyebrow to Ava to make sure it sounds fair.

  She nods. “Or I could make you other cakes?” she offers.

  I shake my head. She’s too much of a people pleaser. Not that I’m upset when she’s pleasuring me.

  Luckily Debbie beats me to it.

  “No, this is perfect and we don’t have any waste. Plus, Don will look at it like he’s getting a deal.” Her and Kate laugh.

  Don Senior is known for stretching his pennies.

  “Okay, thank you. I’m almost finished and then I can snap a few pictures and get it down to you.”

  Debbie smiles. “Perfect. By dinner tonight?”

  “Yes. That sounds good.” Ava’s smile gleams.

  “Looking forward to our business partnership. Oh, and I was at Dane’s grill the other day and had one of your strawberry margarita cupcakes. Oh my, that was delicious. Worth every gripe from Don about spending so much on flour and sugar.” She smiles and Kate laughs.

  “Thank you.” Ava holds out her hand to Debbie who stares down at it and then to me.

  I shrug in a what-can-I-say-she’s-not-a-native-in-Climax-Cove.

  “I seal my deals with a hug.” Debbie steps closer, wrapping her arms around Ava, who at first seems hesitant but eventually reciprocates.

  A crash comes from the front room and I don’t hear any of the boy’s voices anymore. All of us run to the doorway to find the boys circled around a teapot pointing fingers to one another in a he did it echo.

  “Boys,” I say and all their scared faces look at me. “Who did it?” I walk into the room and they continue to point and blame one another.

  My eyes focus on Toby, but Ava comes to my side with a broom and dustpan.

  “It’s okay,” she says, starting to use the broom to sweep it up.

  “Toby?” I question and when his matching green eyes meet mine I shift my eyes to Ava.

  “I’ll do that Miss Ava.” He holds his hands out to Ava.

  Then another boy grabs the dustpan.

  “Thank you boys, that’s very polite of you.” Ava steps back, running right into my back.

  I place my hands on her
shoulders and lean down to whisper. “I’ll pay to replace it.”

  She circles around and my eyes can’t stop staring at her lips, remembering them on my skin last night.

  “Not necessary.” She slides away and goes behind the counter.

  As my eyes track her, I catch Krystal, Heidi and Kate all staring over at me with smirks that suggest they’re running scenarios in their heads. I’m sure it’ll be all over the circuit soon that the town bar owner and bakery owner are hitting homeruns in the back room.

  Once the mess is cleaned up, we say our goodbyes and I get the boys out of the bakery before something else breaks. Heidi has taken Toby with her since he has plans to sleepover at her place for her son’s birthday so I have the rest of the day to myself.

  No sooner have I sat down in the chair in my office, when my phone chimes.

  Ava: Do you think that deal is fair?

  Me: Definitely.

  Ava: Thanks for negotiating. I was just surprised.

  Me: I look forward to collecting my commission.

  Ava: Commission?

  Me: My cut for closing the deal.

  Ava: Do I even want to know what you want?

  Me: Oh, believe me you do. ;)

  Ava: Does it involve me on my knees?

  Me: I would never ask you to do something you don’t want to do.

  Ava: Don’t make assumptions.

  Me: How about a striptease?

  Ava: Oh, you can do better than that ...

  Me: Tonight. My place. Toby’s at a sleepover for a birthday party.

  Ava: Time?

  Me: Seven.

  Ava: I’ll bring the kneepads.

  I chuckle, my thumbs already moving.

  Me: I could get used to this friends-with-benefits thing.

  She never answers and my gaze finds the clock, seeing I still have six hours before my mouth is on hers. I lean back in my chair contemplating the fact that it’s the first time I can remember ever counting down the hours until I got to see a woman.

  13

  Dane

  I glance at the clock when I finally walk into my house.

 

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