Serge Zumpano is obsessed with René Glass, owner of Crumbs Together, the local bakery and patisserie. Not only is the man gorgeous, but his pastries are so good, they make Serge weak in the knees. Put both together, and he's a gonner. Serge knows he has it bad when just tasting a cinnamon roll has him sporting, er ... well. But, as addicted as he is to the man's decadent creations, Serge doesn't see himself as good enough for someone like René, famous the world over and completely out of his league.
René won't let that stop him, however, because he has his eye on Serge, too. Step one: get Serge to build him a second shop. Step two: get the man to come over to his house. Step three: seduce him with pastry. Naturally, it's not that simple. But Serge is René's obsession, and he won’t let him get away.
By next Saturday, I’d finished working on a nearby home, fixing the roof and replacing the deck. I got home by five o’clock, knowing there would be no one there since Rafe and Woody had taken the weekend to drive up the coast.
I got out of the truck, put away my stuff in the workshop and trudged up to the front door. Before I could unlock it, I heard a car pull up in the driveway. I turned around and dropped my keys, surprised at the sight of René getting out of his vehicle and walking toward me, paper bag in hand.
I gathered my scattered thoughts enough to ask, “What the hell are you doing here, René?”
He didn’t respond until he was right in front of me. I could see the myriad shades of brown in his eyes and tried not to notice his moist lips. He smelled like toffee.
“Woody stopped by the bakery to tell me that he and Rafe would be out of town today and tomorrow until late afternoon, should I want to stop by and make my case again. With pastries, this time.” He held up the paper bag, a knowing smirk on his face as my stomach did a Pavlovian growl. Traitor.
I would smack Woody the next time I saw him. “René, we talked about this,” I said as I bent over to pick up my keys.
“No, you talked about it and I’m ignoring you.” He stepped closer to me, forcing me to back up until my body touched the door behind me. “What’s it gonna take, Serge?” He leaned in and licked my chin. “Do you want me to beg?”
“I don’t want you --”
He chuckled. “Yes, you do. Let me prove it to you.” He set the bag on a nearby chair, then dropped to his knees before me.
Uh-oh. “What are you doing?” I asked, eyes bugging out as I looked around us, knowing there was no one else around, and still freaked out all the same. And aroused. Yes, I could admit to that.
“Do you know what my favorite flavor is, Serge?” he asked as he pulled down the zipper on my dusty jeans and nuzzled my sweaty underwear.
All I could say was “Nngh.”
“It’s a man’s come. It can be briny, or a little bitter, sometimes sweet. But it’s always delightful and surprising. It’s delectable, has all the layers of a perfect dessert in its makeup, as far as I’m concerned.” He pulled down my briefs enough for the warm air from his mouth to caress my aching, growing cock. “The first time I saw you, I wanted to suck you off and see what you tasted like.”
I was still in shock as to his actions, but my desperate fingers crept into his hair, needing to hold onto something as he licked up one side of my throbbing dick and down the other, over and over as if waiting for me to force him to take it all down. I could do that.
To hell with thought, right?