All Chapters of The Baker's Billionaire : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

DEMETRIA“DEMETRIA!”. Anastasia shouted as she walked into my apartment. I was in my kitchen making a cup of coffee to get my day started. Who told me going to the club last night was a good idea? “Girl, why are you so energetic this morning? I still have a hangover”. “You have a hangover from whatever you did with Marion, don't blame it on me.” She laughed at my predicament. The moment she said that, flashes of last night came rushing back.“Okay… I see you. Look at your cheeks turning red. Spill now!” She said, tapping on the counter.“He fingered me and brought me to an orgasm. Multiple times, girl,” I confessed, covering my cheeks with my hands as I leaned against the counter.“Go girl!”I laughed, shaking my head while sipping my coffee.“How was your experience with him?” She pressed.“Argh, I was on cloud nine, girl. His kisses alone had me soaking my panties so bad. The moment he brought me to my first orgasm, I couldn't feel my legs”.“Atta girl! Better than Mark?”“Girl, he

DEMETRIAThe bell above the bakery door jingled as my last customer left, arms full of pastry boxes tied neatly with gold string. I exhaled, leaning against the counter, the weight of the day finally settling into my bones. Saturdays were supposed to feel lighter, but with Monday looming ahead, it didn’t. At least Anastasia should be in any moment now—I needed the distraction. Plus, we closed at 4:00 p.m. on Saturdays, and Lord knows I was ready to lock up and sprint home.The first tasting with Mrs. Whitfield had gone better than I expected. She’d been warm, gracious even, which honestly shocked me. The woman radiated the kind of elegance that made you feel like you should stand straighter, maybe even wear pearls to speak to her. And then—like it was nothing—she handed me a thousand dollars, just as a small compensation. My jaw had almost dropped when I opened it in my car, but I held it together. Barely.But of course, leave it to her son, Marion Whitfield, to complicate things. He

DEMETRIA“A date?” I asked, arms folded, pinning him with a stare.“Yes. Wildfire. A date.” His lips curved into a smile, and damn it, my pussy reacted before my brain could catch up. I shook my head hard.“If you think you’re going to blackmail me now that the gala’s a go—just to make me go out with you—then I’ll decline, Marion.” My words came out clipped, sharp.“And why would I do that?” He tilted his head, a smirk carved on his mouth like it belonged there.I shrugged. “Just because you’re capable, Marion Whitfield.”“Hmmm. I see.”He slid his phone out of his suit pocket, tapping the screen like I wasn’t even there. Focused. Effortless. And yet, I found myself watching him and admiring him.His hair was slightly overgrown, strands brushing his thick brows as though he’d run his hand through it too many times. His blue-black three-piece suit fit like it had been stitched onto him, sculpting broad shoulders and that lean, impossible frame. And then there was the diamond-crusted wa

DEMETRIAThe sky had already begun to blush into shades of orange and pink. Another long day, but we’ve got a lot to do before the gala on Friday. It is the day. The event. The Whitfields.I slipped off my apron and set it on the counter, exhaling slowly. My hands smelled faintly of cinnamon and butter, reminders of the cookies I’d perfected for Mrs. Whitfield’s event. They were simple, but perfection often lived in the simple things. At least, that’s what I told myself when I started to overthink. We’ve started preparations already. The gala is in three days. Just around the corner. The pies and cakes are next.“Brielle,” I called as I entered the kitchen. She appeared, hair tied back, flour dusted across her cheek. “Have you started with the batch of mini fruit tarts and lemon meringue bites?”“Yeah, I should finish with that tomorrow.” She said as she showcased what she has done so far. “Good.” I smiled cheerfully. Impressed with it. She nodded and continued.Seeing Matthew and o

DEMETRIAI don’t know why I said yes, but my body needs this so bad. Marion’s lips and hands on my body are just too ravishing to ignore. I need this just as much as he did. Staring at him, I could see the hunger in his eyes, pupils dilated, ready to ravish me. “Where’s your bedroom?”“There.” I pointed to my left. He carried me, while kissing me, fervently. Entering the bedroom, he walked to the edge of my bed, laying me gently on the mattress. He started unbuttoning his shirt. Removed his boots next, followed by his jeans. He stood tall in glory, athlete-built, just in his black Calvin Klein briefs, his dick huge and erect, pointing to me. And he has tattoos. They run from his shoulder to his upper right bicep with inscriptions and also Roman Numerals. God, could he look any better than this? A sight for sore eyes. This man.I stood up from my bed and brushed my breast across his bare chest. I started to touch him, circled him. He has a huge tattoo at the center of his back too,