Ch 2: Sweet Cream- P2- Taste Testing

Abigail, outside of Grande Latte Cafe- 6:30 AM

~~~

The next few days go by in a blur as I wallow in self-pity over what happened. How could I be so stupid? Keith always acts like this, so why did it bother me so much? Is it because I hoped one day he would rip my clothes off and fuck me across the countertop so hard that I would cry out in ecstasy? Probably.

Or it could be that I want him to understand our position. That more goes on behind the counter than he realizes, and if he would pull his head out of his ass, he would see that.

I arrive a bit early, since he didn't give me a definitive time frame, and send him a message.

I'm here, where would you like me, sir?

He responds immediately.

In my office. Door's unlocked.

Rolling my eyes, I exit my vehicle and walk into the shop. Hoping that this "talk" goes well.

~~~

Keith's in his office, like always, tapping his fingers impatiently on his desk. When he sees me, he points at the chair in front of him and orders, "Sit."

Dammit, why does he have to make a spectacle out of everything? He's already threatened me, then coerced me into coming back. What else could he want?

"Yes, sir," I mutter under my breath as I obey.

His jaw clenches. He's clearly still angry with me, or about me, so why force a meeting?

"First off, I want to apologize about my behavior the other day." Keith says, taking a few deep breaths. "It was horribly unprofessional to throw around harsh words and accusations like I did. So for that, I'm sorry." He maintains eye contact with me the entire time, despite being upset, showing me he's being sincere.

Holy shit, did Keith just apologize for being a stupid, sexy, asshole? Wow! I guess hell can freeze over once in a while.

He clears his throat and continues. "I would like to move past this situation. If possible."

Was he serious right now? He has been a nightmare to me for six months, threatened me, and accused me of stealing. But yeah, totally, we can move past that. Not. I am visibly angry, shaking, and restless the entire time.

I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.

“Keith,” I began, “You are acting like you accidentally grabbed my ass instead of a loaf of bread or something. No, we can’t move past it. We have to address it and figure out a solution.“

“I know. I let my anger get the best of me, okay? “ He says desperately while running a hand through his hair. “I got very stressed out, and I took it out on you. The receipts showed a change in cashier, as you said, but I was too proud to admit I was wrong."

Well, this is new. He's actually taking responsibility for his actions.

"So, what's the solution, Boss Man?"  I ask with a hint of sarcasm.

He shallows harshly. "Well, I'd like to improve your work situation. We are in need of someone to taste, evaluate, and dispose of cakes/pastries from the display cases. Agnes retires next week, which is part of my stress. Would you be interested?"

I smile. "So, I wouldn’t have to work the counter anymore?" Keith shakes his head. "Or make coffee?"  He repeats his actions. "Why? Just the other day, you acted like I was the worst."

"I...reflected on my behavior, and decided that it wasn't appropriate." He says solemnly. "Are you accepting it?"

"Fuck yes!" I exclaim, clapping my hands. "When do I start?"

Keith's eyes flicker with something I haven't seen before. Maybe happiness? Contention? Or perhaps, a hint of desire?

"Right now." He presents a tray of pastries and donuts to me. "You don't have to eat them all, of course, but I need to know if the recipes need adjustments or if they taste stale." He places a notebook and a pen next to me. "Please make notes about anything you notice, and thank you, Abigail."

He leaves the office and me alone for the time being.

~~~

So far, I love my new job. For the first hour, I took careful, deep bites of each item and rated them based on a list provided by Keith.

Are the following products:

Flaky or Well Cooked?

*Most of them passed this, except for the Almond Butter Croissant, which was a little doughy in the middle.

Moist or Creamy as Indicated by their Name?

*All of the cakes passed, but a majority of the pastries were dry. Then again, that might have been intentional.

By the time I get to the last few donuts, Keith pops his head in. "Everything going alright?"

Dabbing my mouth with a cloth napkin, I reply, "Yup. So far, everything is delicious!"

He nods. "Good. There's one more thing I want you to try." He disappears into the kitchen for a minute and returns with a small saucer with a thick, fluffy cream in the middle with two Biscotti cookies. "This is a prototype called Sweet Cream; the chef and I have been tinkering with it. Would you mind sampling it?"

It kind of looks like a combination of whipped cream and cheesecake filling, both of which I loved.

"Sure, let me get some water first?" I ask, standing up. My mouth is filled with so many flavors, I don't think I can handle anything else without a palate cleanser.

I walk to the storage area, where the break room is located, and grab a few bottles of water from the cooler intended for staff.

On my way back, I notice Keith following behind me with the saucer in his hands. Waiting.

"Oh, you scared me."

He doesn't say anything, opting to place a hand gently on my shoulder, gripping slightly. He looks deeply into my eyes for a long time, but it's uncomfortable for some reason. Almost like my body wants this interaction.

"You have some stuff on your lips." He murmurs, his eyes darting from my eyes to my lips.

Flushed, I wipe around my face with a section of my uniform blouse. "Did I get it?"

Keith closes what little distance there is between us, pushing me against a storage rack in the process. "No, allow me."

He licks the edge of my mouth with his tongue. Slow and deliberate. As if he wanted to savor the taste of whatever pastry leftover, and me, at the same time.

I gasp, dropping my bottles of water with a thud.

Keith pushes his knee between my legs, spreading them apart with ease as his tongue continues its path. Agonizingly slow, it trails across my chin and down the length of my neck, stopping shy of my collarbone.

"Mm, you're right," He rasps, blowing hot, labored breath onto my sensitive flesh. "It's delicious."

"Keith," I say breathlessly. "What are you doing?"

A wicked smile spreads across his face. "Sampling the goods."

~~~

What happens next is like something out of a romance novel. Or a trashy erotica, I haven't decided yet.

Keith drags me back to his office, locks the door, swipes everything off of his desk, and lays me on it like a princess. My body trembles in excitement as he eyes me in my short skirt and blouse uniform. He looks like a wolf who's just caught their dinner, and they can't wait to feast.

"I know I'm an asshole, but I hope this will make up for it." He murmurs as he covers my mouth with his in a deep, passionate kiss.

My hands sink into his hair, pulling him closer as his tongue invades. I've dreamed about this moment for so long that it feels like a blurry delusion. That if I let go of him, he'll float away.

Keith breaks the kiss long enough to say, "I've wanted this for so fucking long. Watching you in that sinfully short skirt with those beautiful legs, it made me want you even more." His hands slide under my skirt, teasing the flimsy material.

Shuddering, I confess, "I've wanted you too."

Keith taps the center, finding it wet and sticky. "Mm, what a naughty girl." His fingers slip inside, stroking my folds. "Just begging for release, aren't you?"

"Yes," I beg, wiggling my hips. "Please."

He carefully places the saucer to the side as he spreads my legs wide. Ever so slowly, he peels my moist panties off, balls them up, then stuffs them into my mouth. Oh God, it's so fucking hot I almost orgasm when he does it.

"Shh..." Keith whispers, pressing his finger to his lips. "We need to be quiet, or everyone will hear us. Understand?"

Enthusiastically, I nod.

"Good girl." He murmurs, scooping a dollop of Sweet Cream onto his index finger. "Now let me enjoy my breakfast in peace."

Panting heavily, I nod. Relaxing my body as much as possible while I allow him access. He ducks in between my thighs, pressing kisses along the way until he reaches my apex. Once there, he smears the cold, fluffy cream onto my folds, clitoris, and near my entrance. I feel sticky; I'm sure I look like a freshly frosted dessert from his painting. When he stops, he groans deeply before diving in.

At first, his strokes are gentle and curious. Exploring the deepest, wettest parts of me while meticulously removing the spread. I squirm with each lick, scooting away from him slightly. He pauses and growls, "Keep still, or I'll tie you to the desk with my belt."

My breathing quickens as I nod in agreement. I wanted to be tied up, because I'm a bad, bad girl who can't listen. In defiance, I squirm again. He chuckles darkly.

Keith wraps his arms around my hips, pinning me securely in place. "You asked for this, Abigail."

His promise is warranted as he viciously devours me, like a dog tearing apart a meatloaf after starving for days. The rapid movements in combination with his well-placed thumb on my clit, my orgasm happens before I know it. My spine tingles, and my body shivers as I scream through my gagged mouth. A few seconds later, I melt into a puddle on his desk.

Satisfied with my reaction, Keith smirks as he coats his fingers with my arousal. Then he mixes my essence with Sweet Cream and ungags me. "Open up and have a taste."

I take his fingers into my mouth, sucking them clean with a moan. "Delicious, Keith."

He whispers in my ear, "Oh yeah?" He kisses me deeply, then continues with his filthy promises. "Wait until you suck it off my cock, beautiful."

~~~