11. Chapter 11
“So, Olly, show me just how lucky I am,” are the last coherent words I hear before I take Jasper’s cock to the back of my throat.
A warm burst of precum hits my tongue, and I moan around the savory taste. I can’t help but chuckle at his sudden gasp, the sound echoing through the room.
You could say I’m enjoying getting up to a little mischief. I might just find that keeping Jasper on his toes becomes a favorite pastime of mine.
“Fuck, Olly, warn a guy next time, will ya?” Jasper pants, “But don’t you fucking stop.”
A small thrill runs up my spine as I hollow my cheeks and take his cock all the way down to the base, my nose hitting his trimmed nest of hair .
His length is silk against my tongue. It’s perfect, a tad shorter than mine but thicker, with a knowing bite if Jasper ever topped.
Does he top? Would I bottom for him? How do I feel about a little pain? I think Jasper might enjoy the pain.
“Stop overthinking it, Olly,” Jasper soothes me.
Ugh, he’s right. I’m not feeling anxious over these thoughts. I just like to have a complete picture before making a decision. And then, once I’ve made a decision, I may get a little hyper-focused–like thinking about what I’d like to do with Jasper’s cock.
My brain shifts as my tongue plays along the underside of his length. I silence the constant war in my head, determined to do my best to take him apart piece by piece.
My endgame.
I release him from my mouth with a pop. Taking the time, I slowly lick up his body, flattening my tongue over his pierced nipple and sucking the cold metal between my teeth. Our time is short, but I need to taste his skin again.
The way he’s bucking and twitching has me packing away Jasper’s reaction to nipple play for later. The piercings should have been a dead giveaway. I hope there’s a later; I don’t think I can be one and done after this.
Once he’s endured enough, I steal his lips for a quick kiss, hoping the taste lingers in my mouth as I make my way back down his body.
“Jesus, Olly, who taught you how to play the long game?” His breath hitches. “They should be rewarded—and shot.”
If he only knew, my experience is not all that it’s cracked up to be .
Jasper’s hands land in my hair, pulling with every sensitive nibble I take against his skin.
“Your cock is perfect. The kind of stuff earth-shattering orgasms are made of,” I say. He must know. How can he not know?
My hands, splayed across his chest, vibrate against his soft chuckle.
My cock is painfully hard, and I realize I have made a miscalculation. The precum leaking from my tip has me shuddering as I practically hump the bed, wishing I would’ve released my aching cock from the confines of my jeans.
I lick a stripe up the underside of his cock along the sexiest vein known to man. I could follow that vein up and down for days.
Jasper’s hands grab for the sheets, trying to gain any amount of control he can get. But I don’t plan on letting him have much.
His cock hits the back of my throat again, and I swallow around it. I cradle his balls in my hand, giving them a slight tug.
“Oh fuck, yes! Olly!” Jasper moans, his eyes looking down at me, hips arching off the bed. “Your mouth, fuck what a talented mouth you have.”
“It has more to do with the mouthwatering cock before me.” That’s not a lie. You can suck cock all you want, but if it doesn’t compel you to find all the ways to make it come…
My hands grab his hips, holding them in place, and my thumbs softly rub the skin across his hip bone.
“Olly, please.”
I never thought I would ever hear Jasper Valintine beg me to let him come. Fuck, it’s hot.
I bob my head up and down, swirling my tongue around the head, before diving back down, over and over again .
“Oh, fuck. I’m gonna…”
“Let go, Jasper. Come for me, baby.”
His cock thickens under my tongue before rope after rope of cum releases down my throat with a moan. The salty taste hits my tongue.
My cock is so close to the edge without even touching it. My balls are full and aching.
When his cock is wrung dry and with the taste still lingering on my lips, I crawl back up his body, capturing his mouth with mine. Jasper wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer as if he can’t get enough. He can have it all.
I arch my hips away, trying not to grind my still jean-clad dick against his sensitive cock.
“No, bring them here,” Jasper says, pulling my hips toward him, unbuttoning my jeans, and wrapping his hand around my cock.
Oh fuck! His fingers are magic.
Our kisses become desperate as I chase the urge for release. Jasper pumps my cock back and forth. One… two… three pumps and I’m done for.
“Jasper,” my open mouth pants against his, our lips wet and swollen. My voice is needy and desperate.
“That’s it, Olly. Come for me. I want to see you shatter.”
The tingle at the base of my spine that I have been riding moves deep into my balls. I let out a low groan that even I don’t recognize before shot after shot of my release coats his porcelain skin.
Not having the strength to hold myself up, I fall to the side, trying not to crush him. Jasper’s chest is heaving, my cum glistening on his chest.
He draws his finger through the warm mess and brings it to his lips .
I practically die. A low growl sits deep in my chest. I can’t take it anymore. Hooking his chin with my thumb, I devour his mouth, tasting my release on his tongue.
We barely get time to bask in the afterglow before a loud banging comes from the front door.
Panic sets in, our eyes widening as we scramble out of bed.
“Oh, no… It seems I have left the baby in the car. I’ll be right back.” I hear Spencer yell from the living room.
“I swear to god, Spencer, if you left her outside in that car by herself,” I yell back.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Finn is in the car with her. Now clean up and put some clothes on.”
I button my jeans as Jasper throws a T-shirt in my direction. I hold up his leather pants. “How do we get them back on?”
“A whole lot of shimmying,” he says with a wiggle of his hips.
I let out a strangled groan, “Jasper…”
“Go take care of Baby Spy, I’ve got it.”
I’m sitting at my kitchen table, pen and paper in hand. I know everyone uses their phones for notes, but when planning something important, I need the physical act of writing to get my thoughts in order.
I sneak a glance at Mazie, sound asleep in her bouncy chair.
I also know any distraction right now might be helpful to stop me from overthinking what happened between Jasper and me the other night .
When Spencer came back with Mazie, I needed to give her a bath and get her ready for bed. Everything was a jumbled mess of noise and commotion. Jasper finally headed home, needing some peace and quiet. Not that I blame him one bit. But now it’s been a couple of days and we still haven’t talked.
After her vacation, Ms. Wilson, the local social worker, was back. We spoke yesterday morning, and she started looking into what we could do about placing Mazie in Spencer’s and Finn’s care. She mentioned needing to review their documents, but she might be able to grant them emergency protective custody.
The lady works quickly. She called first thing this morning, saying that Spencer and Finn were approved for temporary custody, and could pick up Mazie anytime.
I’m going to miss the little peanut. She was such a good baby. Sure, she had a couple of two a.m. breakdowns, but for the most part, she was a chill baby.
They say wait until the teething starts, but I’m sending up a prayer for Spencer and Finn, hoping they won’t suffer too much. But just like everything else they do, I’m sure they’ll excel.
As I wait for them to get here, I thought it was time to set this whole baking idea into motion. First, I need to figure out what items I want to bake. Do I want to dive into specialty cakes for weddings and birthdays, or do I want a classic bakery with morning breakfast items and fun and funky desserts and pies?
I’m worried that if I were to go the specialty cakes route, it would eat up all my time, and to be honest, I’m not the best cake decorator .
Now cupcakes I could make, maybe with some small standard birthday cakes, and maybe even some pre-made pies ready to sell with specialty bars.
In the mornings, I could sell a handful of donuts and croissants. I could even do some small breakfast sandwiches.
My brain keeps churning, ideas swirling until I have a well-organized menu list.
Now here’s the big question: where ?
I need to scan the local paper and see if there’re any available locations I could turn into a bakery. In the meantime, I could bake things at home and sell them to friends and family.
I pull out my grandfather’s cookbook, which has some of my grandmother’s old handwritten recipes. She used to make a pecan pie that was to die for.
There’s a soft knock on the door. Spencer immediately pokes his head in. Patience is a virtue that is seemingly unknown around here. Heck, I’m surprised he even knocked.
“Is she asleep?” he asks, tiptoeing into the living room. “She should be awake soon.”
Finn comes through the door, carrying a new car seat. “We picked up a few things and decided a new car seat was a good idea,” he says, lifting it up to show me.
“That was smart. Who knows how safe the one we found her in is?”
“What’s this?” Spencer says, thumbing through my stack of papers on the kitchen island.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about opening up a bakery for a while, so I was going through a list of items I could sell.”
“Wait, you’re finally going to do it? ”
“It seems so.”
“Does this mean I can finally convince you to start supplying bakery items for the café?”
I laugh because Spencer has been trying for the last year.
“Yes, that’s a possibility,” I say with a smirk. “I need to find a location first, and then we can talk about it.”
“Yes!” Spencer shouts, fists pumping in the air.
That startles Mazie, and she starts crying.
“Oh, shit.” Spencer’s eyebrows shoot up.
“I got her,” Finn says, lifting her into his arms to soothe her. “Is there anything else we need?”
“I packed the clothes and bottles I got for her, along with the rest of the diapers and wipes in her diaper bag.”
Finn picks up Mazie, tucking her into her new car seat before setting her down next to me and Spencer. My heart swells.
“I’m going to start loading the car.”
I make my way over to Mazie. “Hey sweet girl, you be good for Spencer and Finn, ok? And don’t worry, I’ll still be around plenty.”
“We’re thinking of having a little welcome home party for her next week. We may be jumping the gun a little, but Nancy thinks we have really good odds of being able to adopt her. And in the meantime, she deserves a party, so she knows just how many people she has in her corner, no matter what happens.”
“I like that, Spencer.”
“Okay, that’s everything,” Finn says .
My eyes become damp, and I wipe them. I don’t understand why I’m feeling so emotional. I only had her for a few days, and I’ll still see her regularly.
Having her here made me think a lot about what I wanted for my future. It solidified my decision to open a bakery. She also made me think about what I wanted in a partner and allowing myself the time to find someone to share my life with.
“Let me know if you guys need anything,”
“We will, don’t worry.”
My cell phone rings from wherever I set it down earlier. There’s a small flutter in my stomach with the hope it’s Jasper. I pretend to act cool, like I’m not desperate to see who it is.
“We’ll let you get that and get out of your hair,” Spencer says as they make their way to the door.
As soon as the door closes, I’m sprinting around, trying to find my phone. I uncover it from beneath my piles of papers. My brows furrow when I look at the screen and don’t recognize the number.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Olly?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Hey, Olly, it’s Marcus, from The Matthew House. I hope you don’t mind, but I got your number from one of your friends.” My mind immediately goes to Alex. Marcus is an investor in his video game production company.
“What can I do for you?”
“Well, it seems my husband and I have gotten ourselves into a bit of a jam. We are hosting the annual Matthew House carnival for the kids, but the person we hired to make our desserts broke her arm and cannot complete the order.”
“Oh, my. That’s horrible.”
“Yes, it’s very unfortunate. She’s a single mom and an amazing baker. Hopefully, we can find a way to help her out.”
“What were you looking to have made for the carnival?”
“We know this is last minute, but we need 150 cupcakes.”
“Umm, that’s a lot.”
“I know and we completely understand if you can’t do it. Jacob and I figured we would give it a shot.”
This would give me a perfect opportunity to work on my recipes, and while 150 cupcakes is a lot, it’s still doable.
“Ok, yeah. I can do that. When do you need them and are there specific flavors you were looking for?”
“My husband is the real one running the show. Can he call you sometime tomorrow to work out all the details?”
“Yes. That sounds good.”
“Thanks again, Olly. We’ll be in touch.”
When I hang up the phone, my heart is hammering in my chest. I have my first order. Excitement builds and I realize I’m doing it. I’m taking the first steps in following my own dreams and not those of someone else.