His Pickle Her Jam (Cherry On Top Tales #4)

Chapter Twelve-Jan

Day 5 of Block Party Prepping (5 to go)

The day after our little romp in Mr. Jones’ old office wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be.

Well, I mean, it was kinda, sorta uncomfortable at first. Especially after I’d set some pretty straightforward rules.

After we, um, had sex.

Geez. I was in my thirties, and I still couldn’t say that without blushing.

That was why I never did casual relationships.

Anyway, after we fucked like bunnies—see I could say that with no problem.

But anyway, afterwards, we cleaned up after ourselves and finished our work for the day, parting ways afterward since Buck had to bartend and I really needed a shower.

But not before I had my say.

“You look like you wanna say something, Jan baby,” Buck said as he was tucking his enormous—thank you God—cock back into his pants.

Fucker had been pretty much dressed throughout the entire thing as opposed to my naked except for my bra thing.

“I just don't want you to think because I slept with you that I'm not going to be serious about this contest,” I told him.

“Why would I think that?”

“Cause you’re a guy, and guys are selfish.”

“Selfish? Me? If I didn’t satisfy you, Pretty Girl, you just let me know. I’d be happy to double my efforts,” he said.

He was annoyingly cute. Especially the way he bit his lip and looked at me, his dark eyes raking over my well-used body. He knew he made me come. But I was neither confirming, nor denying it.

“You can’t help it. Selfishness is ingrained in your DNA,” I said as I continued to dress. “But seriously, David, I'm still gonna do everything in my power to beat you.”

“I would expect nothing less. Consider the challenge accepted.”

“Good. And when it's all over and I win, I don't want any hard feelings. Like don’t be a blubbering mess about how I threw you off your game with my sexual prowess. And don’t go badmouthing me or trying to ruin my reputation,” I told him, just doubling down on my insanity.

“Jan Baby, I would never badmouth you. But I gotta ask, why on earth would I do that when I’m certain to win?”

“Ha! That’s bold.”

“Pretty Girl, I've got it in the bag. Mrs. Jones loves pickles, and since she's judging the contest along with her husband,” he said and shrugged.

“What! Who said that?”

“It was in Mrs. Montgomery’s email this morning. But don’t worry, I’ll give you a special coupon when Pickled Possibilities opens.”

The fucker.

He was such a tease. But after everything, we’d just gone back to our same old silly banter.

Except now there was a sexually charged element we hadn’t had before.

Still, instead of feeling awkward when I came in today, I just assumed an air of maturity I didn’t really feel.

I mean people had sex all the time, right?

It wasn’t a big deal.

Only, to me, it kinda was. Separating sex and emotions wasn’t something I excelled at. I knew better than to catch feelings for a guy like Buck, but tell that to my idiotic heart.

I spent most of last night replaying the scene in the office again and again.

Who knew I liked being bossed around in the bedroom, er, office?

I mean, normally, if a guy told me what to do, I would tell him to go fuck himself.

But in his case, I would rather he fucked me.

Yes, please.

And that was why when I got dressed this morning, I decided we needed to maybe keep things more professional while we were working. So, instead of my super comfy summer dresses, I had on a pair of black yoga capris and a cherry red sleeveless tunic.

The top was light and airy, with plenty of room around my belly and hips, which made up for the confining pants.

So, yeah, no easy access.

That should help me keep my mind on my jam and not his, um, pickle.

But no sooner had those words entered my brain when Buck came into the store. He came bounding in on Croc clad feet, a pair of cargo shorts, and a tight tank top.

I had the AC on, but it was already 99 degrees outside.

“Good morning, Pretty Girl,” Buck said, walking right up to me, cupping my cheeks and slamming his mouth to mine.

I didn’t have time to reply. At least, not with words.

But I did kiss him back.

My body seemed to have a mind of its own where Buck was concerned. He didn’t even need to coax to get me to open my lips and allow his tongue entry.

My entire body swelled with the memory of what we did the day before.

Buck was just so, I don’t know, blatant in his desire.

He didn’t seem concerned that the window where I’d been standing when he walked in gave everyone an unobstructed view of the two of us tangled up in a good morning kiss.

“Your thoughts are loud, Jan Baby.”

“Are they?” I whispered, tilting my head back to look at him.

Buck didn’t let me answer first. He dipped down and kissed me again, sliding that long tongue of his into my mouth several more times before he let me up for air.

“I just didn’t know if we were at the kissing upon greeting stage of whatever this is. I mean, I didn’t want to assume yesterday meant anything more than what it was,” I whispered shyly.

He frowned and released his hold on my face only to latch onto my other cheeks with his big, powerful hands, swinging me up in his arms by my ass.

“Yesterday meant everything,” he replied, quickly and firmly, shocking a gasp out of me.

“And this is you and me, together. You can label it however you want,” he said, spinning me around in a circle.

I giggled, clutching his shoulders as he moved faster and kissed me harder. Buck slowed down, finally, just when I thought I might die of giddiness. He nipped my lip between his teeth.

“You looked so pensive when I saw you through the window, I needed to see you smile and of course, I just had to kiss you,” he said, offering me a few more lip locking goodies.

“So, if I called you my boyfriend?” I asked, nervously.

“Then I’d call you my girlfriend,” he replied and smiled down at me.

I bit my lower lip and nodded.

Buck is my boyfriend.

My pulse raced as I tried to absorb the enormity of that statement. I was not sixteen. I shouldn’t be getting all wound up over something as seemingly silly as all that.

But I was. I mean, I felt stupid happy just calling him that.

My boyfriend.

Which really meant I was somebody’s girlfriend.

I wasn’t single anymore. I wasn’t alone.

OMG. I needed to call Delani.

“Let’s get to work, Pretty Girl. I’m feeling good about what I got planned today,” he teased, walking away with a wink.

I could tell it was going to be a hot one today, and I wasn’t entirely sure I could handle it.

Once I started cleaning, cutting, measuring, weighing, stirring, and jarring my ingredients for my Garden Tomato Jam with Basil, I had a much better grip on myself.

“Goddamn, woman, that smells like heaven,” Buck announced after making a few trips to the walk-in fridge with what I thought was some kind of pickled corn relish.

“Does it?” I replied with a grin.

“I’m glad you used that case of tomatoes they sent by mistake,” he said, trying to peek at the leftover contents inside my pot.

“Me too. Now back up, Buckeroo, this ain’t for you,” I said, closing the lid and bumping him with my hip.

For a moment, I worried about how he would read my actions. I mean, yeah, we teased each other all the time. But we weren’t dating before.

My worry was brief, thank fuck.

Buck just growled and grabbed me by my hips, pressing something long and unmistakably hard against my ass as he nibbled my earlobe.

“Keep teasing me, Jan Baby. First with your fucking outfit, then your sassy little mouth. Good thing I’m not bartending tonight, I think I’m going to have to do something about you,” he said, and the implied sensual threat made me quiver with need.

“Teasing you in capris and shirt, how? And when you say do something, what do you mean?” I asked.

“Did you think wearing this was somehow better than those flirty little dresses you always have on?” he asked, groaning as he ran his hands up and down my hips, over my ass, then back around to the front to cup my pussy.

“If we weren’t closing up for the day, I’d bend you over this counter and fuck you right here. But I got a couple of steaks and the makings for a Caesar salad in my fridge, a pool and hot tub with a privacy fence around it, and a king-sized bed just waiting for the two of us at home. So, what do you say?”

Holy. Fuck. That’s what I say.

“What are you asking me, exactly?” I bit my lip.

“Come home with me, Jan Baby. Let me cook for you. Let me feed you. After we eat, we can swim, or watch TV.”

“That’s all?” I asked, biting my lip harder.

“No, that’s not all. That’s just the start,” he said, spinning me around to face him.

“Just the start, huh? So, what is it you really want from me, Buck?”

“You want the truth?” he asked, cocking his head to the side, his dark eyes blazing with something unreadable.

“I want you to come home with me, and I want to do all those things I already said with you. Afterwards, if you let me, I want to make you feel good. I want to see and touch and taste every inch of you. I want to fuck you until you come screaming my name. At least twice. And I want to sleep all night with my cock buried inside your hot, sweet slit. That’s what I want, Pretty Girl. So, what will it be? Yes or no?”

My mouth was so fucking dry. I couldn’t answer. Not without any spit left in my mouth.

How could I?

I was pretty sure the reason had everything to do with the fact that all the available moisture inside my body was currently soaking my panties.

I swallowed a gulp of air and nodded.

“Good Girl.”