Caleb gives me a little glance and a small smile as he adjusts his tool bag that he’s got in his other hand. I know what he’s smiling about. Mrs. Barnes is rather dressed up for a widow who needs to have her sink looked at. In fact, she looks like she’s about one set of five-inch heels from going out to a club to see if she can still work it low. “Sorry about that, Mrs. Barnes. I had plans with my girlfriend tonight and it’s too hot to wait in the truck. I hope you don’t mind.”
Mrs. Barnes looks a little surprised when Caleb says ‘girlfriend’, and the word makes me feel like jumping up and down and screaming, That’s ME! That’s ME! “Caleb has just raved and raved about how you make the best lemonade and cookies he’s ever had. Is it a secret recipe or would you be willing to share it?”
I have to give it to her. She recovers quickly, beaming at the compliment and ushering us into the kitchen. “Oh, no, I don’t mind at all! I’m Sue Barnes, by the way.”
“Cassie White,” I reply, shaking hands with her. “I know this must come as a surprise.”
“Only because I let myself be surprised,” Mrs. Barnes says, chuckling sadly. “Come on, I’ve got that cookie recipe around here somewhere. Now, the key is, you have to use real peanut butter, not that junk they sell in the supermarkets.”
As Caleb repairs the sink, just as quickly as he thought, I listen to Ms. Barnes discuss the pros and cons of different brands of peanut butter and even how to make my own to ‘really get the best flavor’. I also get a quick little lesson on the best types of lemons, and how certain kinds are only available for a short season, and how to adjust based on the type of lemons you get. “But Mrs. Barnes, you say to drop the sugar?” I ask as I catch Caleb’s eye, and behind her, he mouths Thank you to me.
“Oh, yes,” she says, leaning in and dropping her voice. “Everyone thinks that you cover up the bad lemons with more sugar, but the thing is, you need to even highlight the lemons more then. So what I like to do is boil it.”
“Boil it?” I ask, surprised.
“Boil, microwave, whatever you want,” Mrs. Barnes says. “The lemons are usually too weak, you see. You have to bring the lemon flavor out, and the best way to do that is to steep the juices with the zest. Trust me, try it and you’ll see.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I tell her, liking her. She’s a sweet lady, like Caleb said, and if she’s into a little innocent flirting, so what? She even uses her home printer to make me a copy of both of her recipes, and I tuck them dutifully in my back pocket as Caleb cleans up. “Thank you.”
“Hey, Cassie,” Mrs. Barnes says as Caleb carries his tool bag out. “Take care of him, okay? He’s a good man.”
I nod, smiling. “You have no idea. Again, thank you.”
After we say our goodbyes and Caleb tucks his check into his wallet, we go back to his truck, pulling onto the main street. “So . . . dinner? Feeling anything in particular?”
I lean back, rubbing my tummy and chuckling. “Caleb, I ate like four cookies while Ms. Barnes talked about sugar brands. That woman had fully prepared for you. She had a whole plate and a half and two different types of lemonade. I can’t eat another bite right now.”
“Well, I’m starving,” Caleb growls lightly, and the tone in the truck cab changes in an instant as I feel desire pulsing off him in waves. Who cares if we had a quickie right before coming over? We’ve held back for a few days, and we want each other now. I reach over, sliding my hand up his thigh to cup his hardening cock, and give him a cheeky look. If anyone ever asks me what love and true desire are, I can describe how Caleb is looking at me right now. I look like a half-kempt cocker spaniel and I can tell he wants to park the truck and make me scream his name. That’s true desire.
“Well, maybe just a little more. But only if you can get us to my apartment fast enough.” Caleb speeds up, virtually squealing into a parking spot at my apartment. He runs around to the passenger side as I climb out, turning to offer me his back.
“Hop on,” he says, “or do you want me to carry you in my arms?”
I laugh and hop onto his back. “You can do that when you put a ring on it,” I tease him, Caleb stopping for a half second in surprise before he grins and runs with me piggyback to my door, crouching down so I can feed the key into the lock.
Kicking the door closed with a foot, he sets me down. With a smirk, he growls, “Woman. Bed. Now.”
I laugh, recalling how I teased him about being a caveman, but I run toward my bedroom, tugging at my shirt and getting it off before throwing it over my shoulder. I hear his muffled curse as it hits him in the face—he’s so close on my heels—but when I turn around, he’s not laughing. Instead, he’s staring at me with a fire in his eyes that could melt steel, his chest heaving so hard that the thin cotton of his t-shirt can’t hide the pounding of his heart, and his jeans certainly can’t stop the bulging throb of his cock. “Fuck, Cassie. Strip for me, honey. I need to be inside you.”
I feel his need and it’s mirrored by my own, and I quickly start
