Page 10 of Bishop

“It sounds amazing,” he said, rubbing his flat stomach in anticipation.

“I’ll make sure to give both of you slices after it’s done,” I promised. Noting the thermos on his desk, I added, “I’ll brew a fresh pot of coffee for you as well.”

“You’re a doll,” Garrity complimented with a wink.

“I’ll be expecting coffee, too,” Becker chimed in.

I smiled and agreed, following the younger guard to the kitchen where I was going to set up my stations.

After a minute or so of watching me, Becker said, “So, this is your last week here at Cantiville, right?”

As I was busy counting out bowls, I was only half listening. “Um,” I paused, looking over at him, “it might be. I haven’t decided yet.”

Becker nodded. “I’m looking forward to that cake. Make sure to cut me a big slice before you head out today, sweetness,” he told me, before taking my purse to the staff lockers where it could be stored.

Dismissing the awkward exchange as soon as he was gone, I began collecting all my wet and dry ingredients so I could make my exemplar cake.

I worked in silence, having left my phone in my purse. By the time I checked my watch, I was shocked to see that nearly an hour had already passed by. The men would be here soon, and my cake was chilling in the fridge so I could show them how to properly frost it.

Fifteen minutes later, the group of six inmates came streaming into the kitchen. At first, I didn’t see him. The man I was trying to tell myself I shouldn’t be looking for. However, it was no good lying to myself. I had a crush. Denying the truth would only be twice as pathetic as admitting it.

The confident man was the last in line. He was much taller than the rest by several inches. And if that didn’t cast the other inmates in his shadow, his stunning looks certainly did. Those blue-green eyes. That wheat-colored blond hair. That toned physique. It was enough to make any girl fall to her knees and want to worship at the altar of his godlike beauty.

But I wasn’t that kind of girl, I reminded myself. I wasn’t shallow or foolish. I knew better than to get involved with a bad boy. A felon. My dad had taught me that lesson long ago. Good-looking or not, they were nothing but trouble. Bad boys might seem like a good time now. But, sooner or later, they simply turned into bad choices that ruined your life. Just ask my mom. She could tell you a thing or two about that.

Smiling welcomingly, I waited for the men to find their workstations before I revealed what we were creating today.

“I hope everyone is hungry for sweets,” I announced with true excitement radiating from my voice and smile, “because we’re about to have the most delectable treat imaginable!”

* * *

Bishop

Fuck me! This woman looked even better than I remembered. The fantasy I kept reliving in my head came to the forefront of my thoughts. My dick hardened instantly and, once again, I was grateful to be standing behind the counter as I adjusted it in my loose-fitting jumpsuit. The last thing I wanted was for her to see it and think I was some kind of pervert. I mean, I kind of was, especially when it came to her, but I didn't want her to find that out just yet.

“I should have checked earlier, but is anyone allergic to anything?” a worried Evie asked, scanning the crowd for hands. “That’s good,” she said with an obvious sense of relief. “We’re about to make the most decadent strawberry and cream cake you’ve ever eaten.”

No fucking way! Strawberry cake was my all-time favorite. My mom used to buy it for me every year on my birthday. This woman just kept getting better and better.

“And it’s not just any old strawberry cake, it’s going to be made with fresh berries and a delicious compote filling throughout the tiered layers,” Evie joyfully informed.

I think I’d just come in my government-issued jumpsuit! Fresh strawberries and a compote filling, whatever the fuck that was, sounded incredible. My mom had never made it like that. She’d bought my cake at the local market on the clearance rack every year. Not that I was complaining, but this version sounded like some next-level shit. Especially after another dreary week of mystery meat and canned peaches.

Really, where had this woman been all my life? Probably not hanging out at biker bars with assholes like me. She was too fresh-faced and had the clean-cut look of a good girl about her. I have to admit though, whatever it was, it was really working for me. My cock gave another lusty jerk like a naughty dog on an invisible leash as I gave her a wistful once over. Christ! I needed to get laid. I was all backed up and ready to fight at the drop of a hat. If I didn't do something about it soon, it was going to drive me fucking insane!

Evie smiled and clapped her hands together. “We need all the time we have, so let’s get started.” Her beautiful moss-green eyes lit up with joy and I noticed an adorable dimple in her left cheek. “We’re going to start with the dry ingredients. Please look over your workspaces where I’ve set out everything you need to complete this project.”

From there, Evie demonstrated how to carefully measure and properly mix all the ingredients. Forgetting my dick momentarily, which wasn’t something I did often, I made sure that my measurements were as precise as possible. I wanted to impress this amazing woman with my skills. That way, when I got out of this dump, she’d be more than willing to let me in her front door. And, if I was a really good boy, her bed.

Evie made her rounds as the men got to mixing. When she moved close, I could smell her light perfume. Her scent was a warm mixture of vanilla and sugar. It was so deliciously sweet, it made my mouth water. I wondered then if she tasted as good as she smelled between those lush thighs of hers, and knew instinctively that she would.

When Evie stopped at my station, she peered into my bowl and proclaimed my batter looked “the perfect consistency”. I beamed like she’d just complimented my stamina in bed. I realized then that a life of abstinence was starting to negatively affect my psyche. The fact that a cake was causing me to be this giddy and turned on surely meant I’d spent far too much time behind bars. I’m sure as soon as I got out and had a few good fucks, I’d feel like myself again. However, the thought of those Club girls didn’t excite me quite as much as they used to. They certainly didn’t appeal to me like Evie Wild did. That thought definitely gave me pause.

After our cakes came out of the oven, we chilled them in the industrial-sized refrigerators so they could be frosted as soon as possible. Evie told us if they were still hot, they would melt the frosting and become a soupy mess. While everything was cooling, we diced strawberries into bite-sized pieces and began to form our compote.

By the time I started to assemble my cake, I was covered in flour, sugar, and bits of strawberry. I’d definitely underestimated how complicated baking was. My dream of impressing my hot culinary teacher was dwindling by the second.

Evie laughed as she passed by my station. “Do you need some help with that?”

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