The Baker's Touch Read Free Page A

her, each smack a little harder than the one before.
    A gasp escaped as her butt warmed. She wanted more. Relished the bit of pain with passion. He pressed his front to her back and cupped her breasts. His erection wedged between the crack of her behind, while the coarse material of his slacks rubbed her tender cheeks just right. She couldn’t stop from curving into the heat of his body.
    “Please.” She needed release, needed to feel his hands everywhere, bringing her to ecstasy and beyond.
    He palmed her mons, before plunging two fingers into her heat. “Is that what you want?”
    She moved against his hand, a moan stuck in the back of her throat. “Yes.”
    He tapped her clit with his thumb. “Or more of this?”
    Pleasure rippled through her veins and pulsed between her legs. “Yes.”
    Slowly he thrust in and out, while he teased her nipple. His mouth found hers. His lips cool and commanding as they coaxed hers apart. Their tongues dueled, fighting for dominance. He released her breast to drift up her torso and rest at her throat.
    Muffled ringing filtered through the silence. No. Now was not the time for interruptions. Already his touch was fading. The shrill noise grew louder. “Damn!” Penelope sat upright, snatching the intrusive object from her nightstand. “This better be good.” It never failed. The same dream. For the last few weeks, ever since that New Year’s Eve kiss, she’d had the same sexy dream. Whenever she got to the good part with her dream lover, she was always interrupted before she climaxed. Even now her body hummed for release.
    “This is your security company. An alarm has been triggered at your place of business. Would you like me to dispatch the police?” the calm efficient voice purred in her ear.
    Her shop? “Yes. Do that and I’ll meet them there. Thank you.” She kicked the covers off, the erotic dream momentarily forgotten. Penelope fumbled for the clock. Her fingers finding the button.
    “2:47,” the mechanical voice blurted.
    “Ugh.” She pushed to her feet. This was not how she wanted to spend her morning. First her sex dream with the mystery man from New Year’s Eve and now her shop. She moved to the phone, felt for the tiny raised bumps and pushed one. The phone on the other end rang several times before it was answered.
    “Did you mean to call me this early, Miss Penelope?” the gravelly voice on the other end mumbled.
    “Yes, James, I did. I’m sorry to wake you, but the alarm went off in the shop. I need to be there.”
    “I’ll be out front in ten minutes.” He sounded more alert now.
    “Thank you.” She hung up the phone.
    Head held high, she slowly made her way from her bedroom down the hall to the bathroom. Showered and dressed, she met James on the front porch. Early morning cold permeated her still damp hair. She shivered as she struggled into her coat.
    “Miss Penelope, you’ll catch your death walking out here in the dead of cold with wet hair and no coat on.” James grabbed the collar of her heavy jacket and draped it on her shoulders. “Has Mrs. Tilman seen you?” He sighed. “Probably not if you’re out here like this.”
    She stifled a chuckle. “I didn’t want to wake her for this. I left her a message that I had an emergency at the shop.” She allowed James to lead her down the slippery walk. Salt crunched beneath her booted feet. She misstepped on a slick spot and would’ve fallen if not for the gentleman’s strong grip.
    “Careful.”
    “Yeah,” she agreed. Once inside the vehicle, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was just too damn cold in the middle of February. Winters in Michigan were the worst for early morning bakery hours. The shop would be stone cold until the ovens warmed the kitchen.
    By the time she arrived at the shop she’d warmed considerably.
    “There are a couple of police cars sitting out front. The glass on the door is busted,” James said as he pulled the vehicle to the curb.
    Tension gripped her.