Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
FEbrUARY
C lementine was horny baking.
It was a new development, because like she told Mack, she’d never horny baked before. She stress and anxiety baked, because it kept her mind distracted. But horny baking? It was a whole thing.
She’d woken up that morning feeling out of sorts and thought a session with porn would do the trick. Spoiler: it didn’t. Then she decided to bake, since that usually settled her mind. Multiple times over the course of the morning, she caught herself running her fingers through whipped cream, licking each digit clean as her mind wandered. Not to some random faceless human; to the handsome blond with his sparkling eyes and bright smile.
She’d done everything possible to stop him from becoming a fixture in her mind. But he was relentless. Not in real life; the Oakley meandering around her in her head was a lot more forward. The feelings she’d been ignoring were suddenly bubbling to the surface. One minute she was rolling her eyes at his dazzling smile, the next she was curious what it would feel like to be pressed against him.
All of this was most unlike Clementine.
Feeling horny was a rare occurrence and even then, she didn’t have dreams about sex or masturbate. She did own a vibrator, but it still lived in the box. Masturbation had honestly never done anything for her.
In college, she decided to give self-pleasure a shot. Except she spent too much time trying to figure out which part of her vagina she was touching, which brought her pleasure and what would really do the trick. As someone who thrived on research, she studied about pleasure and sex and orgasms. Those books didn’t really teach her how to masturbate.
Whenever someone talked about masturbation with glee and unbridled joy, she would fake it for the sake of not being the odd one out. She knew there was nothing wrong with not wanting to pleasure herself, but she was already the loner with her head stuck in books. If she wanted to fit in Clementine believed she needed to walk the walk and talk the talk, no matter how little experience she had in both. When her friends started dating, she struggled to meet people. Everyone was boring or only after one thing: sex. She couldn’t understand what happened to the days when people communicated and discussed favorite movies or books before stripping off their clothes. Now all they wanted to do was skip to the bedroom activities.
That didn’t appeal to her.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want sex. Her body sometimes had this urge and craving; a need to be touched, kissed and stroked. She read enough romance novels to know what it could feel like—the pleasure building up your spine, toes curling and body shaking—and she wanted it too. Sometimes . Unfortunately, when she wanted it, nobody was around. When she wasn’t in the mood, the horny assholes came out of the woodwork.
While Clementine had never put too much thought into her sexuality, she knew that she liked people. It might have also taken her a while to date, but when she met Cora her sophomore year, she experienced something out of this world. Cora was the first to take the time and teach her about pleasure. They experimented together, Clementine learned everything she could about her vagina and all the pleasure points that brought a different sensation to her body. She learned that sometimes, pleasure didn’t happen because she pressed a button. It could take time and it would still be well worth it. With Cora, she had her first of many orgasms.
But like all college relationships, it was short lived.
Where Cora could be considered an appetizer, Brianna was the whole damn meal. They met in pastry school and when study sessions experimenting with recipes turned into coffee dates where they flirted constantly, she took a shot and kissed Brianna. Everything changed then. Unlike with Cora, her relationship with Brianna was driven by sex. They fucked everywhere they could—the practice kitchen, their apartments, closet spaces and even the locker room.
That also fizzled out and she didn’t blame Brianna for the sudden death of her sex drive. Sure, she and Brianna didn’t really converse that much between rounds of sex, but they’d built something of a connection before clothes came off. People she met either had something to say about her body or weren’t interested in being friends before they became something more.
In the last ten years, there hadn’t been a single person who made her feel anything close to horny.
Until Oakley West.
Who, within a few weeks of making her official acquaintance had shown up every day, made her fight back countless smiles, devoured her baked goods like they were going out of style and wanted to be her friend.
Then there was the text that really changed it all.
“Are you aware there’s a million vagina cupcakes in your kitchen?” Mack asked as he walked into her bedroom hours later.
“Why do you think I’m hiding in here?”
He chuckled and lay down beside her on the floor. She was supposed to be planning the Valentine’s Day menu, but she was distracted. After struggling for hours, she delegated the work to Freya and Roscoe, then she baked and frosted for hours and at some point forgot why she was baking. It felt good, because she got some of the horny frustration out of her system. She’d also unwrapped her vibrator and watched a video on how to use it before giving up and collapsing on the floor. After all that, she’d lost track of time.
“What’s going on?”
“I was horny baking.”
“Whoa,” Mack mumbled and she growled at his amused tone. “Tattooed surfer dude got under your skin, huh?”
“So fucking deep and I hate it.”
“Did you fuck him?”
“No. Ugh, I haven’t fucked anyone in…years.”
“Maybe you should fuck him.”
She huffed, because the words put a visual in her head and it was both exciting and terrifying. How did she explain to people that the idea of sex sometimes scared her? While Mack was the only one who knew about her complicated relationship with sex, that didn’t stop him from trying to get her out of this rut. He was the one who recommended porn, which didn’t do what it was supposed to do. Because she fell down a hole researching the porn industry and understanding the business. Besides, porn didn’t turn her on. It only gave her ideas for the kind of sex she could have one day.
“Walk me through the last twenty-four hours,” Mack said, nudging her gently.
She hesitated, but finally told him everything—what happened after she gave him the cupcakes and agreed to be his friend, the visit to the shelter, the special donuts and these feelings that she had been keeping at bay.
“He texted me after he ate the donuts.”
“You gave him your number?”
“For feedback purposes,” she grumbled, which made Mack laugh. “And the text he sent wasn’t even dirty or sexy, it just…stuck with me.”
Before he could ask for it, she handed him her phone. It was still open to their text conversation and she heard him chuckle as he read.
“It was the waking up together part that got you right?”
Groaning, she pressed her face against Mack’s shoulder. “What do I do? I can’t be around him without all these confusing feelings.”
Mack kissed her forehead and said, “He’s got you horny baking, which you never do. And from the start, he’s flustered you. I haven’t met this guy yet, but I’m going to assume he’s a good dude.”
“Everyone at the shop likes him, except Roscoe.”
“We’ve established that Roscoe is in love with you,” he reminded her for the millionth time. “This thing with Oakley, maybe it can just be sex. You can still do your food guide and make him donuts, then fuck him while you’re at it.”
Chewing on her lip, she frowned. “What if I suck at it?”
“Maybe he can show you, guide you, teach you .”
“I don’t know, Mack.”
“Maybe he sucks too, Tiny. You can learn together.”
“What if he laughs me out of there?”
“Is that the worst that could happen?”
For all her confidence and powerful badass mode, when it came to certain things, Clementine felt like a lost kid— terrified . She might lose him as a friend, which was also pretty terrible. The worst that could happen was he’d never come back for donuts, and she’d have to be okay with that.
After a full night of sleep, she decided to take some kind of control over her horniness. Whatever the hell that would turn out to look like. With the vagina cupcakes packed into four separate boxes, she got ready. Dressed in black pants, sneakers and a black turtleneck with long sleeves—it was her ‘going to battle’ clothes—she headed out. Her first stop was Wildes Haven, where she dropped off three boxes of cupcakes and promised to come by later that week.
Then she made her way to A Fine Needle.
“You’re a badass boss bitch and any person would be lucky to fuck you. Don’t overthink it, give him a cupcake and tell him what you want,” she muttered and stepped into the tattoo shop.
“Welcome to A Fine Needle,” a cheery voice greeted her and she gave them a small smile and held up the box of cupcakes. “Oh my god, you’re the baker.”
Clementine winced at the volume, but nodded. “Wanted to surprise Oakley. Is he here?”
“He should be at his station.”
“Great, thanks. Here,” she said and set the box down. Flipping it open, she picked one up and the expression on the other person’s face made her sigh. “Vagina cupcakes. They were unplanned, but hopefully you can enjoy them.”
“Hey, cupcakes are cupcakes, whatever you frosted on top doesn’t even matter.”
“Fair point,” she said, gesturing to the work spaces. “May I?”
“As long as you don’t plan to fuck him there, by all means.”
“Not yet,” she mumbled, then saw their eyes widen, before a naughty grin stretched across their mouth. She took a big step forward and almost bumped into a fully tattooed hulk of a human. Their frown made her scowl deepen as she mumbled an ‘excuse me’ and moved around them until she was standing in front of Oakley’s workstation. She knocked on the side panel and a second later, the curtain slid open.
“Hey, this is a nice surprise,” he said with a grin.
She whimpered and looked him over—another black T-shirt clung to his body desperately, blond hair in disarray and glasses perched on his nose. Asshole .
“Fuck it,” she growled, mostly to herself, and thrust the cupcake into his hand while using her other one to tug on his T-shirt, bringing his mouth to hers. He hesitated and Clementine opened her eyes, prepared to pull away. But his arm snaked around her waist and dragged her into the room. Her back hit a wall and the kiss deepened, their lips parting and tongues swiping as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Oakley groaned into the kiss and she sucked on his tongue, their bodies pressed tightly together. His hand moved from her waist to cup her ass and her hips rocked forward to push against his. When she felt him hard against her, Clementine moaned loudly and fisted his hair in her hands.
When was the last time she’d kissed someone? Hell, when was the last time she’d been this turned on and desperate that she didn’t care about her vagina cupcake, just about her vagina.
Almost like he could hear her thoughts, Oakley pulled away and put some distance between them. She slumped against the wall, breathing heavily as she licked her lips, her eyes fixed on his face. His green eyes were dark behind his slightly lopsided glasses, almost predatory, as he stared at her. His chest heaved and she glanced at the cupcake crushed in his hands, then pouted.
“You destroyed my vagina cupcake.”
His forehead crinkled in confusion. “What?”
“You might have destroyed my vagina too, but right now, that poor cupcake.”
“Jesus, Clem,” he breathed out, rubbing his face with his free hand. “What the fuck was that?”
“I have a new deal. Donuts, a food guide and no strings attached sex.”
With wide eyes he pointed between them. “With me?”
“No, with the scowly tattooed mountain I just encountered.”
“Fuck no,” he said, voice dropping to a dangerously low decibel. “You and me.”
“Even though you crushed that cupcake I worked so hard on.”
“Why?” he asked, brushing past her constant mention of the cupcakes. “Why now?”
“You’ve got me all riled up, Oakley. I never feel this way and I don’t know how to handle it outside of scratching the itch.”
“With me. I’m going to scratch your itch.”
“If you’re not up for the task, I’ll find someone else.”
Then he was right up against her, one hand pressing into the wall beside her head. “Stop toying with me, Clementine.”
“I thought you were all sunshine and smiles, but I kinda like this version of you.”
“Don’t get too used to it, I don’t even know where it’s coming from.”
Weirdly enough, she liked it. “Too late, I’m obsessed .”
“You’re a treat,” he said, chuckling as he took a small step back. His face transformed again and she had to admit that she liked this version better. She hooked a finger through a belt loop and pulled him to her. “Hi again.”
“Hi. So, what do you say?” She arched an eyebrow, fingers ready to grab all that hair again.
Oakley stared at her, like he was trying to figure out if she was being serious or fucking with him. She swiped a finger through the frosting of the crushed cupcake. Then dragged it over her mouth, fully aware of what she was doing. She’d never been sexy on purpose before, but it was clearly working. His eyes dropped to her mouth and before she could lick off the frosting, his lips were on hers. It was a kiss and a consumption all at once and it sent shots of pleasure down to her core. Humming, she let him have his taste, then nipped at his bottom lip.
“Better save some for later,” she whispered and he shook his head.
“Fuck that. I just got a taste of you. I don’t want to stop.”
She licked her lips slowly, all while he watched her. Even though she knew he was going to do it, she was still caught off guard when his hand gripped her jaw and pulled her to him. She went willingly, her body responding to his touch and the groan that vibrated through both of them. She slid her hands up and around his neck, tongue sweeping out to dance with his. His cupcake-free hand was back on her ass, pulling her flush against him. She could have stayed right there, rubbing against him and letting him explore her mouth hungrily. Except a shrill sound echoed through the small space and they both jumped apart.
“What the hell.” She panted, chest heaving as she looked around.
Oakley groaned and reached for his phone. “Fuck. I have a client coming in now.”
“I should probably go, then.”
“No, stay.” He stepped in her way and she arched an eyebrow. “Not in here, but stay in the shop.”
“I should probably get to my shop, no?”
“Should you?” he said.
She hesitated, but nodded, because she knew that she was going to stay the first time he said it. She then pulled him towards her again, their lips colliding with a soft laugh. Oakley’s mouth stayed in a smile through the kiss and then he pulled back to look at her when his phone buzzed again.
“Stay,” he whispered again and then pulled away from her. With one last smolder, he stepped out of the workstation and she released a shaky breath. The buzzing sound of tattoo machines filled the space and she couldn’t hear his voice anymore. Checking her phone for the time, she told herself that she could stay for a bit, but she did need to get to the bakery—there were wedding cakes to prep for, employees to meet with. Then again, she had never taken a day off since she opened her business, so maybe this was her first day off. And for good reason.
Leaving her things with Oakley’s bag and jacket, she forced slow breaths, then walked out, only to freeze when she recognized the people talking to him. She looked between Everleigh, Lachlan and Oakley, smiling awkwardly.
“Hey Clementine!” the redhead greeted her and she blushed.
“Hey guys…uh, what are you doing here?”
Everleigh’s smile widened as she said, “Oakley designed some tattoos for me. And I was going to see if I could convince this one to add one more to some part of that body.”
She nodded, swallowing down her unease as she forced a smile. “That’s cool. I’m going to…uh, wait in the…over there, okay?”
At Oakley’s nod, she waved and turned into the long hallway, totally unaware of where she was going. Until she reached what looked like a break room and dropped onto the worn out couch with a heavy sigh. She’d successfully asked Oakley to fuck her, but now she needed to get her shit together and actually follow through on this decision. Fucking hell .