Page 71 of Broken Pieces

She doesn’t need to. She can sleep in at least an hour after me.

I walk into the house and the sweet smell of baking infiltrates my nose. I silently watch her as she measures and mixes her ingredients. She has music playing in the background, one of her British pop artists I’m sure, and she hums along to every word.

I can’t stand here much longer and watch her.

I am addicted to her.

To her smell.

To her taste.

To her heart.

I have no other choice but to follow my feet as I walk into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

She glances up at me. Not even partly surprised to see me. “What does it look like I am doing?”

“Blue, it’s after ten.”

“I am aware of the time Brooks, but I am so far behind on everything. I need to catch up now that Tacoma is gone.”

I saunter into the kitchen. “That makes sense. You have barely been in here. Do you need any help?”

She huffs as she looks around the kitchen. “Actually, I could use some help.”

“I can’t promise I’ll be any good.”

She looks at me with hazy, tired eyes. “I ain’t daft enough to give you anything that will break the menu. I just need you to measure flour and sugar. And maybe separate some egg whites. It won’t be hard.”

I nod at her as she explains the task at hand. Together we whisk egg whites and blend batter. Eventually she breaks out the blueberries and I just about lose it.

“Can you mix these berries with the sugar for a few minutes and then pour them into the crusts that are cooling?”

I nod as I do what she asks. “What else do you need?”

“I think I am okay for now. I can finish off these blueberry pies and then I think we are good.”

I watch as she adds sugar and lemon to the berries she is working with. The way she gently turns them over in her hands. She rubs them and works them into a sweet mushy mess of blue. She sets the bowl to the side as she grabs the dough, kneading it out, wishing those soft hands were on me instead.

My cock is rock hard. I can’t take any more of this.

I kneel behind her and grasp her hips. My hands clenching her sleep shorts as I slowly pull them down her hips.

“What are you doing?” she gasps.

“I want nothing more than to taste the sugar between those sweet lips, devour that clit until your knees are shaking, and fuck your tight pussy like you’ve never felt before.”

She doesn’t say a word. Her body melts into mine as I lick her from her clit to her ass. I push her legs further apart as she kneads the dough in front of her.

She is sweet and delicate and delicious.

Her little moans drive my cock into an even harder state.

I plunge my tongue deep into her pussy as my fingers pinch her clit.

She throws her head back in pleasure, releasing the dough from her fingers.