Page 32 of Forced Knocked-Up Mate

No, I won’t!

Since the kiss last night, I’ve become even more desperate to get away. The feel of her lips on mine was the most exciting thing I’d ever felt, and yet, there was a gentle contentment in it, too. Something that clicked deep inside me, a key turning in a lock that opened a secret door in my soul.

It felt like home.

I shake myself a little, fighting the urge to throw the door open and leap out of the moving car. I have no idea how far I’dget before the forced teleport brought me straight back, but it seems worth it just to get away from her, even if it’s only for a few minutes.

If I don’t get away from her soon, I will never leave.

“Are we there yet?” I say, saying anything at all to cover up my discomfort.

“Soon,” Lucy murmurs. Her voice is so soft and soothing, even when she’s upset.

And she is upset… and deeply turned on.

It’s a fact I can’t ignore. I’ve sensed her arousal several times, but after the kiss last night, there is a slow burn within her that hasn’t settled down. It means I can’t fully calm down, either.

“Okay,” she says, sighing. “We’re here.”

She pulls her car into a small parking lot behind a set of one-story buildings. She lets us in through the back door and I’m surrounded by a perfectly clean stainless steel kitchen with long counters and a whole wall of ovens. Lucy leads me to the front of the bakery, where there’s a long glass counter full of wire racks, benches for packaging goods, and a small, old-fashioned cash register.

“Okay,” she says. “I have to get the ovens fired up and some dough proving—we open in a couple of hours. Are you going to just watch me work, or do you want something to do?”

I don’t want to help, but the idea of simply watching her bake sounds like unbelievable torture.

I can just picture her kneading dough or beating cake batter, getting sprinkles of powdered sugar all over her…

“I’ll work,” I say, not trusting myself to say more.

“Alright. I appreciate it. See those crates over there? Can you stack all the prepacked goods onto the shelves? Then fill the fridge with drinks—there are more in the cooler out back. After that, just give the floor a quick sweep and wipe down the counters and windows.”

“Jeez!” I roll my eyes. “Anything else? Would you like me to build an extension to the roof as well?”

“Sure,” she says, her face blank. “Whatever you have time for.”

Before I can think of a retort, she disappears out the back. While I stack the shelves, I can hear her slamming things down and shoving equipment around. It’s immature of me, but I kind of like the idea that I’ve managed to irritate her.

Moving the drinks turns out to be a bit physical, and I’m grateful for it. The fridge is almost empty, so I bring boxes out from the cooler and fill every shelf. The crates are heavy and the display case is deep, so I end up immersing myself in the work for quite some time.

Once I’m done, I’m surprised to see that the sun has fully come up and it’s almost seven. Sweeping the floor and wiping the display cases doesn’t take long, and I head out back to see where Lucy is up to.

When I walk into the kitchen, her sweet, peachy scent hits me right in the face—but now it’s mingled with powdered sugar, candy sprinkles, and chocolate chips.

Arousal floods through me, so powerful and sudden, it hurts. I feel my cock pressing against the ridiculously tight pants, and I have to stop and cover my mouth and nose before I embarrass myself.

What ridiculous fucking clothes! I can’t believe my brother actually wears these.

“Peter!” Lucy calls. “What are you doing just standing there? I could use your help.”

“Coming,” I say, my voice coming out low and strained.

Not quite, but almost!

The closer I get to her, the harder my blood pounds. As I walk up behind her, the fresh, sweet scent wafts around me, and I almost lose control. The liquid fire floods my body, making my blood sing as my hands itch to touch her and my cock begs to be free of the insanely tight pants.

“Put your hands in here,” Lucy says. I murmur softly, my eyes closed. The smell of freshly baked vanilla cake mixed with melted white chocolate is thick on my tongue, with a hint of ripe peach dancing beneath it.

“Peter!” Lucy snaps, and I open my eyes in a hurry. I look to see her cheeks red, her hair coming out of its ponytail. She looks frustrated, hot, and completely out of patience.

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