Rescue the Barista

want to do it, except when they’ve fucked up in some big-league fuckup kind of a way. But when you’re the head of a family, like I was, the people you really have to be worried about are the guys who want to take it off you and maybe the guys who could be afraid of you taking it back.”
“So. A change in your circumstances. How will you cope with your retirement?”
“I thought I said. My plan is to make about a thousand babies.”
She chokes.
I finish the espresso. “That brings me round to why I’m here. I need to know one thing from you.”
“Oh?”
“Are you going to marry me willingly, or do I need to kidnap you?”

Chapter 15 Jamie
He gets up from his seat with a look of a hunter. He takes my breath away when he drops down on one knee.
“Jamie, the sexiest, most beautiful barista in the world, will you marry me?”
I’m choked and unable to speak. My breath stops in my chest. I feel like the room begins to turn. Like the whole world is waiting for me to answer. I stand, looking around. Every face in the coffee shop is turned to mine.
I can’t. With his past, how do I know that I can trust him? How can I be sure of his feelings? With a frown, my head turns and tilts down. I see the flame in his eyes.
“Fuck, yeah.” He stays on one knee as everyone claps. “Yes, Angelo. My devil angel. I will.”
He stands. Too big. Too old. Too rough. Way too dangerous. He gathers me into his arms. His huge, hard body wraps me up. The huge, hot length of his hard cock presses through his suit pants against my soft stomach, almost reaching my breasts.
As he pulls me to him, the warmth of his body stirs me. Can he really be trusted? Am I making the most awful mistake? I can’t listen to my body and my instincts. They’re all caught up in my hormones and exploding with joy.
I know that he’s what my heart wants. He’s definitely what my pussy wants. I guess I’ll have to just wait and see if my head can catch up. This is the point where I decide, you have to pick a road, Jamie, choose a path. Then stick to it. And he’s mine.
‘He’s mine’—that phrase. Now my knees shake and I really am soaked.
He turns, looks around. He smiles at all the customers. “Jamie’s Rise & Grind is closed for the day now.”
I slap my palm and hammer my fist on his chest. Craning round the side of his arms, I call out, “An hour. We’re closed for an hour. Tell all your friends to come then.”
“Two hours,” he calls.
“An hour and a half!” I shout after them. They’re leaving already. Partly because they’re all happy for me, for us. Mainly because none of them is going to argue with him. No way.
The last customer leaves, smiling, and Angelo turns the sign. My angel. My angelic devil. He pulls down all the blinds, prowling deliberately around my little coffee shop. His hungry eyes stay fixed on me as he comes back to me, in the middle of the floor. I turn, “Not here. Not in the – ”
He’s scooped me up like an ice-cream, carried me to the kitchen door. Out into the little back kitchen. Already, while he’s kicking the door shut behind him, he’s opening the front of my shirt. Taking hold of my breasts with a look on his face like a man with a rare, juicy steak.
I open the buttons on his shirt, as fast as I can. “I want to get what’s in there,” I unbuckle his belt. Open his pants.
Unzipping him, the weight of his huge cock pushes the fabric of his boxers out into the gap. His tang of testosterone hits my nose and I’m down on my knees, wrestling him out of his pants.
“Daddy,” I don’t even look up. His huge beast pulses in my hand and I’m pulling it to my open mouth, “Daddy, may I suck your cock now? Please?” I’m holding the buzzing shaft, looking at the huge beast.
He groans.
I tell him, “Before you say ‘no,’ remember I’ve got your balls in my other hand.”
I close my grip just enough to let him know I mean business. If he wants to stop me swallowing his thick sword of flesh now, he’s going to have a fight on his hands. Or, on his dick. Up to him, really.
“Yes,” his voice scrapes like metal.
I stretch my lips, saliva gushes into my mouth, I run my tongue around my lips to wet them first. Then I pause. Make the fucker wait for a moment, at least. As soon as I hear him sigh, I slide him across my tongue, pull him in and close my lips around him.
His shaft shudders and straightens across my tongue. The bulb slides against the roof of my mouth and saliva gushes when he reaches the back of my tongue. My lips close around his hot flesh and I push my mouth as far along it as I can. Push until I feel him scrape the back of my throat. I move my head forward, sliding out my tongue, reaching for his balls. I want my lips against his pelvis. I want all of him. I want to work and pump his cock with the wet muscles in my throat. I want to drink him dry.
Pushing and shoving, finally I get my nose against his abdomen.
He moans, long and sweet. I feel his balls tighten and his cock starts to jump.
He grabs my hair in a bunch and yanks me back. Pulling me off him, he says, “Nu-uh. Not yet, little missy, little barista.