Her Dirty Professor Series (21+)

I stick my tongue out at her backside. Then I head back into work, still refreshing my inbox. Still confused.

That confusion only increases when an hour later, Lara ducks into the back room. “Carmine? Customer to see you.”

I dust flour off my hands, run them under the tap quickly, and duck out of my apron to head to the front. Halfway out the door, though, I freeze.

Lara leans in close, that mischievous grin on her face again. “Honestly, Carmine, way to pick ’em. I didn’t even know guys like this existed in real life, but…”

Across the shop, Caleb leans in the doorway. He’s dressed in even better clothes than he wore last night-a really nice shirt along with dress slacks. The shirt sets off his jawline, and makes his gray eyes seem even more piercing than usual as he grins at me. The lopsided grin isn’t helping my knees function properly either.

“Is he as well-hung below the belt as above?” she whispers.

I manage to stomp on her foot without giving too much away, I think.

“Good morning,” I say when I’ve recovered enough to cross the store toward him.

He takes a moment to let his gaze drift over my body in that way he has, drinking in every inch of me before he responds, the grin still on his sexy fucking mouth. “You look good today, Carmine.”

“Back at you,” I respond, unable to help myself. “Tell me, do you always stalk your clients after encounters, or did you make a special visit just for me?”

His eyes dart past me when I say the word client, probably looking for Lara. But she’s too good at reading situations to have stuck around for this-I know she ducked into the back room to give us privacy.

Caleb relaxes a little. “It’s not normal practice, no. But then again, you aren’t normal, are you, dirty girl?”

“Only as filthy as you,” I remind him, voice lowered so Lara won’t hear me from the back room.

His grin widens. “Actually, I came to ask a favor.”

“You never charged me,” I say, already reaching for my wallet. “Did you forget, or…?”

But he’s shaking his head and wrapping a hand around mine, closing the wallet again between us. “I don’t want your money.”

My heart leaps into my throat. “Why not?”

“First round is free.” He winks.

“Sounds like bad business practice to me,” I point out with a raised eyebrow. Mostly to disguise how hot that makes me feel. My pussy is already getting wet just at his proximity.

He laughs and steps closer. His scent wraps around me, warm and familiar already, even after just one night together. “I’m kidding,” he says, and my heart sinks again.

Damn.

But he’s still holding my wallet shut.

“I didn’t charge you because I need a favor,” he says.

My brows contract, and I tilt my head with a frown.

“My sister needs a cake for her daughter,” he explains. “It’s her birthday on Monday. She actually…” He glances past me at the calendar on the wall. “She actually already booked one with you guys, but you got in touch and said you needed to cancel it next week. You offered a huge discount on another cake at a later time, which, don’t get me wrong, we totally appreciate, but it’s my niece’s birthday, and she had her heart set on this cake…”

My cheeks flush. Figures. You go and cancel just a few orders when you’ve gotten yourself snowed under, and what do you do? Decline to bake a cake for a nice little girl. A nice little girl who’s the niece of the hottest man on earth. The man who stuffed you fuller than you ever imagined possible just last night…

My whole body heats up with the memory of our night together, and it takes every ounce of energy I have to step away from him and draw in a deep breath of air. “I think we can work something out.” I frown at the calendar. “We’re booked solid today, but tomorrow, I could come into the store on my own and make something…”

“Actually.”

I glance back at him, eyes widening.

He lifts an eyebrow, still wearing that grin. “Would you like an assistant while you do?”

I blink. “Both our cooks will be off tomorrow, since it’s Sunday…”

“I meant me, silly.” He steps closer once more. I let him. I’m pinned between him and the counter now, the hard edge digging into my side. But I don’t move. I’m too distracted by the way he’s gazing down at me, desire white-hot in his eyes. He trails a fingertip up my arm, from my wrist all the way to my shoulder. It sends a riot of shivers throughout my body-not to mention a wet sensation starting between my thighs. “I’m eager to help you in any way I can, Carmine. I remember how much you enjoyed my assistance last night, after all.”

I swallow around a lump in my throat. “I… This is my… I work here, Caleb. We can’t hook up in the store.”

He laughs softly. “Who says I want to hook up with you here?” He tilts his head and playfully pushes my bra strap off my shoulder. “Although, now that you mention it, that does seem like just the dirty idea a girl like you would come up with…”

I clear my throat loudly. “Caleb.”

He laughs again. “I’m kidding. I’ll behave. I promise.” He steps back and fixes me with a stern look. “That is, if you can keep your imagination in check, filthy girl.”

My cheeks flush.

His smile widens. “Perfect. So see you tomorrow.”

“But.”

He raises a brow.

I clear my throat. “This is just a professional arrangement. Trade for a trade.”

His eyes search mine. “Of course, Carmine,” he says. Am I imagining the note of disappointment in his tone when he says that?

I must be.

I nod. “See you tomorrow, then.”

I watch the door swing shut behind him. But it takes far longer than that for my heart to stop racing. And as for the pool in my panties? Well, that’s going to take even longer to dry.

…..

Caleb is waiting outside by the time I reach the bakery the next day. It’s strange to be arriving here in the afternoon, with the sun already brightly shining and the rest of the street around us-normally a fairly quiet little row of cute corner stores-completely silent as opposed to just chill. But seeing the hot-as-hell slice of man leaning against the doorframe wearing a confident smirk and eyes that want to devour me whole waiting for me eases the blow of being here on my only day off.

“You’re early,” I point out as I step up to his side and unlock the door.

“I was looking forward to seeing you.”

The simple way he says it, without any preamble, all while he’s eying me up like I’m the hottest girl in town, makes my whole body catch fire. Before I can respond, he cracks another of his half-smiles, the ones guaranteed to knock any girl in eyesight down to her knees-because to keep her upright under his gaze.

“That, and I want to get a taste of your work.”

The way he says taste, all sultry and sexy in his thick London accent, makes me think he’s talking about more than just my cake. The ones I bake, anyway.

“You won’t be disappointed.” I lock eyes with him. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s satisfying cravings.”

“Now that, I believe,” he answers with a soft laugh as I finish unlocking the door and lead him inside.

He behaves-for the most part anyway-while we get the bakery set up. He satisfies himself with only passing touches-standing a little too close beside me while I show him how to prep the batter; reaching around me to grasp my hand where I’m holding the mixer handle while we stir it. Even those small touches-plus his proximity, just looking, smelling, feeling the way he does-are driving me wild.

But he’s actually listening to me too, I realize. When I tell him to prep another batch just like the first, he adds all the ingredients in the right order, remembering the steps I showed him. He even stirs it correctly, not too fast in case he whips it into too much of a fluff.

“Why did you want to learn to bake?” I ask. “Why not just have me make this for you?”

“Needed to learn how to make one of these so I can hide a nail file in one later for prison breaks,” he says, smirking.

I snort and roll my eyes, elbowing him. “Seriously.”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“Seriously?” He catches my eye for a long moment, then glances away. “My niece loves your cakes. I wanted to learn the secret.”

My cheeks flush. “I’d better be careful not to give away all my trade secrets then, huh?”

He laughs. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not exactly a pro baker here.”

“No,” I admit. “But you’re learning fast.” I side-eye him while he pours his batch of batter into the smaller tiered pan we’ve prepped. The one I made first is already proofing. “You’re a good listener.”

Caleb catches my eye. “Why do you think I’m so good in bed? I always listen to what my partner wants.”

My cheeks flare red-hot again, though at least now, with the ovens preheating, I can blame the blush on the heat in this kitchen. But his comment is making my mind run to places I don’t want it to. I’m thinking about him with other people. Other clients. I’m thinking about him listening to what other women want-delivering their dirty, sexy, kinky fantasies the way he fulfilled mine.