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“No fucking away. You fucked Ripley Stark on the first day of class? You whore.” His teasing tone makes me laugh.
“Yep, that’s me. The virgin whore.” I didn’t mean to let the virgin part slip. It isn’t something I shared with him in the past. It is kind of embarrassing to admit that I made it to twenty-five and remained a virgin.
Silence fills the space. Malcolm is a lawyer, so it doesn’t take him long to make a deduction. “You gave your cherry to Mr. Stark? He filled your croissant? Oh my God, maybe there’s a bun in your oven.”
I say nothing.
“You did use birth control, right?” I can hear him pacing in his house. The heels of his loafers click across the stone floor. “I’m happy to be an uncle, but I was thinking you’d wait until the second or third date.”
“About that… we had a miscommunication, and it kind of got away from us. But I’m sure nothing will come out of that one time.” I hope that's true.
“They sell condoms on just about every corner.”
“Right, got it. Thanks, big brother.”
“You’re like a living soap opera. I have to leave for the office, but I want a report every day. I bought that damn class, so it’s only right. Dirty details. I want them all.”
I walk into the classroom and take in the surrounding smells. The oven is humming and Ripley wipes his hands on a towel. He looks like sin dipped in sugar.
“I have to go Malcolm.”
“Details, I’m telling you.”
Ripley stands in front of me with his hands wrapped around me gripping my ass. Yep, the yoga pants were a good choice.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” His lips touch mine and the taste of him is sweeter than honey and richer than dark chocolate. “I missed you.” He lifts me until my feet leave the ground. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.
“What time did you leave?” My lips turn into a pout.
“I climbed out of bed about four and went home to shower and change. My girl likes chocolate croissants, and I want her to have the best. I make the best.” He turns and sets me on the stainless steel work surface.
“You’re going to make my butt even bigger.” I swing my legs back and forth and watch him walk to the oven with a mitt and pull out perfect, flaky, croissants.
“I love a big ass. I love your ass.” He slides the hot tray on the table a short distance from me. “Are you sore, baby?” His hands rub up my thighs until he’s at the apex of my sex.
The truth is I’m tender, but I wouldn’t call it sore. It’s like when you walk for a long distance and your muscles ache, but you know the best thing to do is walk some more. I wonder if sex is like that?
His thumbs slide across the crease where my body and legs connect.
“I’m okay.”
He lowers his head until our foreheads meet. “I’ll be more gentle next time. I didn’t know, Maddy. I’m sorry.”
“Stop being sorry. I’m not.” I pull my lip between my teeth and then let it pop loose. I didn’t cuss, but there was only one word to adequately describe Ripley’s man parts. Nothing else did it justice. “I loved every inch of your cock.” The heat of embarrassment rises to my cheeks.
Ripley steps between my spread legs and pulls my body toward him so I can feel just how hard his cock is. He rocks against me until he pulls a soft moan from my lips. “I’ll do it different next time. I’ll take my time. I’ll make you scream my name.”
I brace my hands on his shoulders and stop his rocking. “If you keep doing that, I’ll be screaming your name right here on this table.”
His teeth nibble at my lips. “I’ve always fantasized about sex on this table. It’s called a prep t
able and I could definitely prep you here.”
My stomach grumbles and he laughs. “Let’s feed you first, and then we’ll talk about this table.” He reaches over and picks up a warm croissant from the pan and holds it in front of my mouth.
“Mm-mm,” I moan as the flaky crust melts in my mouth with the chocolate. “I’m not sure what’s better—the croissant or sex.”
Ripley stands back and frowns. “I’m really going to have to up my game.”
