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Chapter 3
The next morning, havingfinished her virtual appointment and rushed through the last of her morning rituals before leaving to attend the conference, Oakley ran down to the coffee shop to order a large coffee and grab a blueberry scone.
“A large caramel latte and a blueberry scone, please.”
“Never mind the lady’s order. I’ve ordered for her.”
Turning toward that deep, masterful voice that made her weak in the knees, Oakley asked, “Did you? How did you know?” He smiled, gesturing for her to exit the line.
She shrugged, waved at the barista, and moved out of line, leaving a tip in the jar.
“Were you there when we were talking last night?” There was amusement on Ryker’s face.
She accepted her coffee and reached for her pastry. “Um, yes?”
“Then you will remember that you said your guilty pleasure was to have a caramel latte and a blueberry scone every workday. In fact,” he said as he led her to the conference room, one warm hand placed in the same spot as yesterday, “you put in your fancy machine to make your own at work because sometimes you come in too early for the coffee shop. How did I do?”
“Embarrassingly well. You have also reminded me I haven’t worked out for days. I’m going to hurt when I go home and start up again.”
“Swim,” Ryker said as he leaned into the door to the conference floor.
“Swim?”
“Yep. Easier on your body but works the muscles so you can quickly get back to the place where you can work out without hurting.”
He led her to a table and slid out the chair for her. Without a glance around the room to see where her psychiatrist posse was, she sat in the offered seat. Several people of assorted professions were sitting with them within a few moments. Ryker seemed to be a popular guy because he introduced her to everyone as they wandered over to the table. Only one was an attorney. There were military and law enforcement, a fireman, and a physician, all acquainted with Ryker.
She took a long drink of her now cooling latte and another healthy bite of her scone, her little sounds of enjoyment making Ryker’s cock twitch. That would not do here in the middle of a large crowd. He could not sit with a napkin over his lap all morning. He leaned over and spoke in a low, serious voice.
“When we are in public, it would help me greatly if you could eat silently.”
She grinned, and Ryker continued with a warning. “I appreciate all your adorable sounds of enjoyment, but only when we are alone. I am already going to have zipper teeth imprints on my cock.”
She responded innocently. “But the blueberries are so fresh, and the flavor of sugar, lemon, and slightly sweet bread; I mean, how can I not enjoy it?”
“I’m glad, but just know that there are consequences to your actions. Some are good, and some are ouch-y.”
