Hungry For Curtis by M.K. Moore

Author:M.K. Moore [Moore, M.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Flirty Filth Publishing
Published: 2020-11-25T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Four

Keitha

Oh my God! His dick is massive but in a good way. Everything hurts, but I love it. He fills me over and over throughout the night. We eat cold pizza and drink wine and then do all over again. I lost count of how many times he came inside me. He doesn't let go of me until he's in a deep sleep, snoring softly. He's so handsome and gentle yet he's also a beast and the contradiction intrigues me. I never thought I'd fall in love with someone so quickly, but I did. I just have to learn not to question it and not to blurt it out too soon.

It's early, two-thirty, but I've got a busy morning of baking. Even though I'd rather stay in bed, I've got customers to take care of. Quietly, I slide out of bed and pull on some yoga pants, a sports bra. Staring at myself in the mirror, I don’t look different, but I feel different. I’m twenty-one but I’m finally a woman. His woman. I straightened my hair last night, but it didn’t stay. My curls can’t be tamed for too long. I put some coffee on and some Whitney Houston and get started. Once I have the first four batches in the ovens, I pour a cup of coffee, doctor it up, and break out my obsession. Lanky Lassie's Shortbread and savor the flavor. I get two bags shipped every two weeks. I have to ration it, because I'd eat it all as soon as it came in if I didn't. With my cup of coffee and my shortbread, I sit down at the counter and open my laptop. I check my orders and my supplies, making adjustments here and there.

“What are you doing out of bed? It smells amazing in here,” Curtis asks, making me jump.

“Shit. You scared me,” I say clutching my chest.

“Sorry, I thought you heard me,” he says coming closer to me. He’s just wearing teal boxer briefs, but man do they make his dick look bigger.

“No. I'm usually up by now. I have a lot to bake daily.”

“I see.”

“Are you leaving now?” I ask, dreading the answer.

“No, I’ve got time. I have to be at the restaurant at seven-thirty to open, but I’ve got time.”

“Oh cool,” I say, cheering right up.

“Need a hand?” he asks.

“No, I’ve got everything ready, just got to get it baked. I can make you some breakfast.”

“I’ll just have what you’re having.”

“Just coffee and shortbread.”

“Sounds perfect.” I hop off of my barstool and grab another mug and fill it with coffee. He sits down and I set it down on the counter in front of him.

“Now, I severely ration this. I’m obsessed with it.”

“I’m honored you’d share your obsession with me,” he says, and I giggle.

“So cheesy,” I say, getting him a saucer. I place four shortbread squares on his plate and watch him while he eats it.

“It happens,” he says, chuckling. Then he takes a bite. “Damn, did you make these?”

“Oh my God.

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