The Sweetest Ache

My cousin Carter shot me a devilish smirk when he opened the door to my bakery. That was his way of telling me he wasn't alone. He knew I had a crush on his new mechanic Bill, and he made a point of bringing him along every time he walked from his corner garage down to my corner to bum a cup of coffee and some sweets.

"Hi, squirt," he teased as he perused the case of fresh baked goods. I glared at the jerk.

"Good morning, Nancy," Bill flashed me his megawatt smile. God, he looked amazing in his blue coveralls. "How are you today?"

"I'm, uh...I'm good...morning," I stammered. I could never form a coherent sentence around him. He probably thought I had a stuttering problem.

"I trust your judgement," he told me, before I could even ask what he would like. "All of your stuff is amazing."

"Don't flirt with my baby cousin in front of me," Carter reached over, punching Bill.

"Knock it off, Carter," I told him, turning bright red, "or I will start charging you."

"Not if you want me to look at the fan in your walk-in cooler," he retorted, drumming his fingers on the case.

"I can take a look at the fan," Bill offered.

"Oh, um...thanks but...that won't be..." I started to politely decline his offer when Carter cut me off.

"Dude, that would be great!" Carter clapped Bill on the back.

"I can come by after work, Nancy, if that works for you. I'm done at six," he said.

I looked over at Carter who was now rocking back on his heels, grinning like a fool. He had no intention of telling Bill it wouldn't be necessary, that he would handle it for me.

"Sure, Bill," I busied myself putting a few sweets into a bag for him, "thanks...much...I mean, thanks you...so much." I handed him the bag and an empty cup for him to get himself a cup of coffee. He tried to hand me a ten and I waved him off.

"I insist," he said.

"No, really," I smiled at a spot over his shoulder, not trusting myself to look directly into his eyes. "I'll see tonight...see you tonight."

"Okay, we'll settle up then," he winked at me, nodded at Carter and went to fix his coffee.

"So..." Carter drawled, "I'll take a macadamia nut brownie, a raspberry oatmeal bar and a peanut butter cookie. Oh, and a cup for coffee."

"Get out," I hissed at him.

"Squirt, he likes you," he whispered, "he's been asking me about you for weeks and you've known him for almost three months now. I know you like him. You're flushed head to toe."

I bagged up his stuff and repeated, "Get out."

Carter backed up to get his coffee or get away from me and Bill walked towards me again.

"I'll grab a pizza on my way down tonight. What kind do you like?" he asked.

"You don't...that's okay...I mean that's a nice offer, but..." I absently brushed non-existent crumbs off the counter, not able to look at him. He reached over, covering my hand with his and I froze. His thumb rubbed over mine and I couldn't look away. He was touching me, actually touching me. And our colors together were beautiful.

"I want to, Nancy. You're always feeding me, let me feed you," he told me. God, those words meant something different to me. I wanted him to feed me...with that tongue that always snuck out to moisten his lips when he looked at the case of sweets, with his black cock that I ached to feel plunging deep into my pussy.

"Uh...no meat," I croaked out and Carter howled in laughter.

Bill was kind enough not to laugh. He must have known that Carter was being a pig and he ignored him.

"Okay," he squeezed my hand, "I'll see you tonight."

"Bye, cuz!" Carter called and they headed out the door.

I immediately started to sweat, freaking out about being alone with Bill. If I wasn't worried about the cooler breaking down, I wouldn't have taken him up on his offer. I closed at two and that would give me time to run home, shower and change.

Carter wasn't a total asshole, he just hated that I was so uptight. He had been telling me for years to loosen up. My Mom and Dad had been killed in a car accident when I was 11 and I moved in with my aunt and uncle, and Carter. He was older by three years and he always looked out for me.

At 26, I was a business owner and that was my focus. Carter said he had both a personal life and a career and I could, too. Part of me knew he was right, but part of me was scared. It wasn't just intimacy with Bill, it was intimacy with anyone. I had been in the accident too and I had scars. Ugly scars.

I kept busy until closing time and then spent another hour wiping everything down before heading home. I had ridden my bicycle the mile to the bakery this morning. There was a nice breeze as I hopped on. The sun would do me a bit of good. My complexion was so pale. Red hair and freckles, that was me. And green eyes. The hair had toned down to more of a strawberry blonde but my freckles dotted the bridge of my nose, one cheek and from my shoulders down to my elbows.

My left thigh was mangled, for lack of a better description. I never wear shorts. I'm chunky and fair-skinned so the world probably thought they were my reasons. On rainy days, it throbbed to the point of pain. The doctors had diagnosed me early on with arthritis but I thought it was just a cruel reminder of the night of the accident. I still tensed up every time I was in a car when it was raining.

My bungalow came into view when I turned the next corner. I had felt drawn to the place three years ago and with some of the money left by Mom and Dad, I was able to make a nice down payment. And not even a year after, the retail space in town had become available and I decided to use some more of the money to make my dream a reality. I had gotten my love of baking from my Mom and we had always talked about one day owning our own bakery. I just knew she'd love the place.

I brought my bike up the cobblestone walk and into the entryway before heading to my bedroom. What was I going to wear? Bill saw me in jeans, an old t-shirt and an apron every day. This was hardly a date but I wanted to at least look decent. I settled on a ¾ sleeve purple boat neck top, dark jeans and my purple Havaianas. I had a pedicure a few days ago so I knew my toes looked good.

I went into the bathroom, the only room I had remodeled after moving in. My shower was decadent, my one true indulgence. Subway tiles, middle rain shower, body spray jets, benches along all 3 walls and most importantly...no door. I refused to feel trapped.

I climbed in and lathered myself head to toe. I closed my eyes, running my hands over my body, remembering Bill's hand grasping my own. What would they look like on my breasts? What would they feel like cupping my pussy? His fingers were thick and I dreamed of them inside me, opening me as he bent his head to taste the juices that only he could bring out of me.

I dried off and put on my favorite body lotion before taking the time to flat iron my hair. I only hoped I wouldn't see Carter en route to the bakery. He would torture me for sure over my appearance, probably telling me I cleaned up good. Always such an ass. His flavor of the month would be waiting for him after work so I knew he wouldn't be stopping by with Bill.

Since the weather was still beautiful, I decided to ride my bike again. It would tousle my hair a bit, make me less polished, maybe look like I wasn't trying too hard. The biggest challenge would be talking to Bill and meeting his gaze. So...pretty much everything. Why had I agreed to this?

He's a really nice guy and he only wants to help. And Carter is probably...always...so full of shit. Why would someone as yummy as Bill be interested in me? He clearly worked out. His arms were massive. In the three months he'd been in town, he could have met someone anywhere...at the gym, his apartment complex, the garage.

I opened the bakery door and pulled my bike in behind me. I probably had 20 minutes to check my hair and makeup, pace and freak out until Bill arrived. I had just locked the door and turned to head to the bathroom when I heard a knock. I swung back around and there he was, still in his coveralls, holding a pizza box. His smile literally made my heart flutter. Gosh, I'm such a horny sap.

"Hi, Nanc," he said, as I opened the door to let him in. "Carter let me knock off a bit early since I was coming down to help you. I hope that's okay with your schedule?"

"Sure," I said, stepping aside to let him in.

He placed the pizza box on the counter and pulled a bottle of red wine out of his pocket.

"Eggplant ricotta pizza and Malbec. How'd I do?" he grinned.

"Uh, great," I was shocked.

"Don't you remember me running into you in the pizza place when you were with your aunt? I remembered that this is what you were having that night, so I figured it would be a good choice," he said.

"I can't believe you remember...that was...like...it was months ago," I muttered.

"Well, I know I've got a decade on you but I haven't lost my memory yet," he laughed. "And I promise the wine is just for you. I don't drink while I'm working. Scout's honor."

He went behind the counter to pluck a coffee cup from the tower, pulled out a corkscrew and immediately went to work opening the bottle.

"We, or at least you, should eat while the pizza is still hot," he nodded towards the box.

"Let's go back...into the kitchen," I said. "There are stools and you can...you should...eat, too."

He followed me with the wine and came up on the same side of the prep table as me. He reached past me, his chest brushing my arm as he pulled out a stool for me. Holy smokes, he was hot. My elbow felt like it was on fire.

"Oh, thanks. I hope...do you like eggplant?" I asked as I sat down.

"I do," he grinned, rubbing his belly. "As you can well imagine, I eat just about everything."

He headed over to a little fridge that sat on the counter and motioned to the bottles of water. I turned purple. I could not believe that I just sat down without offering him a drink. I started to get up and he stopped me with a wave of his hand.

"We need...I'm sorry," I stuttered, "we need plates. I believe...I can't believe I just sat."

"No, we don't!" Bill insisted, walking back to sit on the stool next to me. "I have no problem sharing, right out of the box."

I twisted so both my legs were under the table. He sat sideways and I was instantly aware of his knees touching my thigh, my mangled thigh. It started to ache and I was very aware of my wet pussy. I took a gulp of wine and started coughing.

"Hey," he reached over, rubbing my back, "you okay? Did it go down the wrong pipe?"

I nodded up and down, waiting for the coughing fit to subside and still, he kept rubbing my back. The man exuded body heat. I wanted to stand up between his legs, throw my arms around his neck and press my groin to his. I snuck a peek and I could see him outlined in the fly of his coveralls. It snaked halfway down his thigh. My eyes got big and my coughing increased. He raised the bottle of water he had already sipped from to my lips and slid his other hand up my back to my neck.

"Take a sip, Nanc," he encouraged.

I leaned toward him as he tipped the bottle and his knee dug deeper into my thigh. There was that hot ache again. Between that and him rubbing my neck, his hand directly on my skin under my hair,

I practically purred. And I knew I was bright red. He pulled the bottle back just a bit before brushing it against my cheek. I bit my lip at the cool contact and he looked at my mouth, watching me. His eyes were lowered but they looked different. They were focused directly on my mouth.

"Thanks you...thanks, Bill," I whispered.

"Do I scare you, Nancy?" he asked, raising his gaze to mine. I tried to look away and he gently squeezed my neck.

"No," I shook my head.

"Do I make you nervous?" he asked.

"Yes," I sighed.

"I know my size can be intimidating and I'm a bit of a klutz but I would never hurt you," he insisted.

I smiled weakly at him, not sure how to explain.

He pulled away slowly, letting his hand rub down my back to the waistband of my jeans. I took a deep breath, gulping for air. He watched me for a minute before opening the pizza box and dragging three slices into the lid.

"Eat," he said.

"Thank you, Bill," I spoke so slowly, determined not to mess up my words. "For coming to help me, for dinner, for the wine, for..."

"You're welcome," he smiled and lifted his bottle of water to my cup of wine. "Cheers."

We ate in silence for a few minutes. I sipped my wine and started to relax. Bill then looked around the kitchen and prep area, asking me questions about different gadgets, my favorite recipes, where I got my love for baking.

"Carter told me about your folks. I'm so sorry for your loss. I hope you don't mind me saying this...but I know they're watching you, so proud of you," he said, placing his hand on my ugly thigh. I tensed again, my whole body on alert. He rubbed me for a bit, like he was trying to soothe me. I silently prayed that my jeans were thick enough that he couldn't feel the dents the accident had left behind.

Bill stood up, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him and resting his head on mine. "What are we gonna do with you, Nanc?" he asked, nuzzling my hair. He refilled my wine with his free hand. "Relax, okay? I like getting to know you."

He walked towards the cooler to look at the fan. I immediately felt the loss. I wish I had the guts to grab his arm and pull him back.

With his back to me, I heard him lower the zipper of his coveralls. He pulled his arms out of them, exposing a skin tight white undershirt. The contrast against his skin was stark. It reminded me of my skin against his. He was so dark, like the darkest chocolate. The kind I used in my croissants. My mouth watered at the thought, knowing he'd taste even better. The muscles bulging at his neck and his biceps were gorgeous. It was a damn shame he had a job that kept them under wraps. My pussy got wetter.

"Hopefully all it needs is a tune up," he said. "I'll take a look and then run out to my truck to get the tools I need." He looked over his shoulder at me, "Eat more pizza, Nanc. You need more food in your belly than wine."

Wasn't he the one that last filled my wine glass? I had only eaten a slice of the three he gave me. I looked over and realized he had devoured four in the short time we were sitting there talking about the bakery.

"What can I do to help, Bill?" I asked.

"Sit there and look pretty," he winked at me, "and eat your dinner. I'll be right back."

I was still in the same spot thinking about his piercing eyes, his beaming smile, the t-shirt drawn tight across his chest, his strong arms, his cock laying against his thigh...wondering if it was as dark as the rest of him...when he walked back in.

"Eat," he repeated as he walked around me to the cooler, carrying his toolbox. "This should take 20 minutes, tops."

"You'll have to let me know what I owe you," I told him.

He turned to look at me, leaning against the doorway.

"What?" I asked.

"If you don't mind me being dirty, maybe we could watch a movie at your place or just talk some more?" he grinned at me. "The night is young."

"You...you're not...dirty," I told him, looking him up and down.

"Oh yeah, I am," he drawled, licking his lips, enjoying my blush. "You're so easy, Nanc!"

God, if only that were true. If only I didn't have to see him every day... How much wine would it actually take for me to throw myself at him?

"I meant," he explained himself, "easy to tease. I know you're a good girl."

"Unfortunately," I muttered.

"What was that?" his eyebrow raised like he had heard me.

"Nothing," I assured him. "I would really like to pay you for your time."

"Your company will do," he insisted before turning back to his task at hand.

I finished off my slice of pizza and then got up to wrap the other two in tinfoil. I washed my hands and wiped down the counter. Then I sat back down and waited, watching him work. The muscles rippled up and down his back as his arms stretched and his hands moved to complete his task. I could never get tired of watching him move.

I poured a little more wine before realizing that ¾ of the bottle was gone and none of it was consumed by Bill. Maybe that's why I was feeling so warm inside. Maybe that was the tingle running through my veins. Maybe that's why my leg was aching. Maybe that's why I was able talk to him without stuttering. Maybe all I needed was a bit of liquid courage.

"That should do it," Bill said.

He made his way to the sink to wash up, scrubbing himself to his elbows. I had turned to peek at him over my shoulder, not wanting to take my eyes off of him. I was watching the bubbles on his forearms when he caught me watching him and he smiled. His eyes literally twinkled. Their color reminded me of whiskey. I was lost in his gaze when I heard the sound of rain on the roof and jumped off the stool.

"We have to go!" I started to panic. I had no idea it was going to rain. By the sound of the downpour, I would be soaked by the time I got home.

"I saw you had your bike," Bill said, calmly walking towards me. "My truck is covered. I'll just throw it in the back since you invited me over to hang out."

"No," I frantically shook my head, "I can't...I'll ride..."

"Nanc," he came towards me with his arms outstretched, "I'm not letting you ride your bike home in the rain."

"I...I have to..." I gripped those forearms I was just admiring so hard.

"You're in flip flops and it sounds like it's really coming down and you had wine," he started listing all the reasons that made sense to him, to most logical people.

I let go of him to pick up his toolbox, to rush him along, and I almost wrenched my arm lifting the thing.

"Nanc, I've got that and you and your bike. I will get you home safe," he promised, taking the toolbox from my arms.

I walked out of the kitchen area, shutting the lights out as I went with Bill following close behind. I pulled my keys out of my pocket so I could lock the door behind me and grabbed my bike.

"Nancy," Bill blocked my path. "Let me have the bike. I will put it in the back of my truck with my tools."

"No, Bill, I have to...I have to ride my bike," I insisted.

"Sweetie, you can't. Look at that downpour. You will be drenched in a matter of seconds. Your feet will slip off in this weather. And Carter will literally kill me if anything happened to you..." he pleaded with me.

"You don't understand..." I trembled.

"Please trust me, Nanc," he grasped my hand. "We could wait it out but I don't know how long it's gonna last. I don't remember the last time I watched a weather report. I know you've been here since 5 AM. Let me take you home."

I felt him gently pry the bike away from me. My hands remained frozen in front of me as I watched him head towards the door.

"I'll be right back," he said.

I felt myself walking out the door and locking it behind me, thinking I could talk him into it, that he'd give me my bike back. My leg throbbed as I stood on the sidewalk, waiting for him to turn back around.

"Nancy!" Bill yelled over the torrential rain, running towards me and pulling me to his side as he ushered me to the passenger door of his truck. "You are soaked through. I told you to wait."

"Please, Bill," I clutched his arm, "let me have my bike or I...I could walk..."

He smoothed my hair back from my face, forcing me to look up at him. He bent to place a kiss on my forehead, shielding the front of me as he reached behind me to open the door. His chest pressed into mine and I realized my nipples were hard and he had never taken the time to pull up his coveralls. They grazed his warm chest. His white t-shirt was soaked and I couldn't look away from that solid wall of muscle. That chest could maybe make me feel safe, make me feel warm...