Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
The big Incubus seemed to know exactly what to do—I barely had to show him anything. It was like working with Sarah, who was also a natural baker.
It was also nice how strong he was. I was used to working with huge blobs of dough and the enormous metal mixing bowl of my industrial sized mixer, but it always took some effort on my part. Malik didn’t even have to try—when I ran out of pre-made dough and decided to make another batch, he lifted the bowl and turned the dough out onto the work area without even breaking a sweat. I loved watching his muscles flex as he did it too—he looked amazingly hot in the plain white t-shirt and white baker’s trousers he had conjured for himself to wear.
I had put out the “Pear Tarts Later Today” sign that a thoughtful customer had made me last year on the front door, so nobody bothered us as we worked. I had always made the tarts alone in the past but I found I liked having help. It made everything go so much faster having Malik beside me—even if I did keep having intrusive thoughts about letting him touch me and taste me.
I was pretty sure that Malik was sending me some of those thoughts. Every time he brushed past me or touched my arm or hand when he handed me something I got another mental image of all the hot and dirty things he wanted to do to me. I would have told him to stop it, but I confess I was kind of enjoying it. It made me feel desired to look up from cutting out another row of tarts and see the big Incubus staring at me with heat in his eyes. I had to blush and look away, but I couldn’t help loving the feeling that he wanted me so much.
He doesn’t really want you—he’s just pretending. It’s just his job, whispered a skeptical little voice in my head. But I didn’t really believe it. Malik wasn’t acting—he’d been as into that kiss as I was. Besides, I could almost smell his lust in the air—mingling with my own. It was like we were creating a brand-new fragrance together that was all about longing and desire.
“We stopped for a brief lunch—sandwiches that I’d made the day before and left in the fridge—and then worked into the afternoon. At around two o’clock I was finally ready to open the doors.
“All right, do you want to run the register or wrap up the tarts?” I asked him as we got ready to let in the crowd that was already forming.
“Whichever you want me to do,” Malik said, smiling. We’d both been working hard all day but he wasn’t grumpy like a lot of men get. He still had a charming smile which I felt right down to my toes when he turned it on me.
“You’d better let me run the register,” I said, laughing. “If I let you do it, every female resident of Hidden Hollow is going to forget their own name and what they came in for the minute they see you.”
“I don’t think anyone can forget what they came in for.” He inhaled deeply. “The tarts smell amazing—which is probably why you already have so many customers lined up outside.”
I looked at the line outside the bakery and sighed.
“Yeah, well I hope they like this year’s tarts because there aren’t going to be any more.”
Malik frowned.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, because—the Ogre. Mr. Grimy Rhymey,” I said dryly. “If the Golden Warbler pear tree really does belong to him, I can’t take anymore pears. And even if it doesn’t, I’m never going to risk going back there again!” I shivered at the thought.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Malik counseled. “If you’ve never seen him before in all the years you’ve been walking on that path and picking the pears, chances are he’s just saying he owns the—what did you call it? Oh, right—the ‘haunted mansion—’ and the pear tree.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I said. “But I’m still not going to risk going back there again. If you hadn’t come out to save me just when you did—”
“Don’t think about it.” He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “Think about this instead.” And he leaned down to give me a lingering kiss on the lips that sent sparks of desire shooting through my body and planted another naughty scene in my mind—the two of us holding each other naked in bed, looking into each other’s eyes as he—
“Hey—when are you going to open?” a voice shouted from outside.
“Oops, I’d better go let them in,” I told Malik, pulling away. “Get ready—it’s going to be crowded for a while.”
“We can handle it together,” he murmured, giving me another smile. “And afterwards maybe we can talk some more about fulfilling that fantasy of yours.”