We reach the store, the screen door creaking as he holds it open for me.
Inside, it’s the same cozy chaos—aisles of canned goods, fresh bread smell, a few locals browsing. Mrs. Peplinska is at the counter, silver hair pinned back, wiping her hands on her apron. She looks up, smiles at first, then sees my face—probably red as a tomato—and tilts her head.
“Back so soon, dear?”
I step forward, apples in hand, heart pounding. Kaleb’s right behind me, a silent wall of support.
“Um… Mrs. Peplinska? I… I made a mistake. These apples… I put them in my bag by accident and didn’t pay. I’msoooosorry. It wasn’t on purpose, I swear. I was distracted, but that’s no excuse.”
She takes them, weighs them on the scale, eyes kind. No anger, just a soft understanding. “Oh, honey. These things happen. You came back. That’s what matters.”
Relief floods me, but guilt lingers. “I really am sorry. Here…” I fumble for my wallet, pay double what they cost. “For the trouble.”
Mrs. Peplinska simply chuckles and rings it up. Then her gaze flicks over my shoulder to Kaleb, and a knowing smile creeps in. “Well, now. Looks like you’ve got a good influence here.” She leans in, voice dropping. “Cooling creams are in the middle aisle, aisle three. The aloe one works wonders.”
My face ignites, blazing hot, my cheeks almost throbbing with crimson.
Does she know?
Well, clearly she does!
But how?
I stammer a “thank you” and bolt toward the door, hearing Kaleb murmur something to her before following.
Outside, rain patters on the awning. Kaleb catches up, a small bag in hand. “Got the cream.”
I groan, covering my face. “She knew. She totally knew.”
“Small town.” Kaleb shrugs, but there’s a twitch at his mouth—like he’s fighting a smile. “My truck is this way.”
We walk to his pickup, parked a block down. Kaleb opens the passenger door, gestures me in. I climb up, but he doesn’t close it. Instead, he steps close, voice dropping to that commanding rumble. “Jeans and briefs down. Time to cool that butt.”
“Here?” I squeak, glancing around. The street’s quiet, rain keeping folks inside, but still… in public?
“Tinted windows. No one’ll see.” His eyes lock on mine, steady. “You need this. Trust me. That round red bottom is in need of some tender care.”
My pulse races, a mix of nerves and… something hotter.
I nod, shimmying out of my jeans and briefs, feeling the cool air hit my skin. I’m exposed. Super vulnerable. But as Kaleb climbs in on the driver’s side, closing us in, it shifts—sensual, intimate.
My cock throbs once more, that ache from the spanking twisting into a red-hot desire as my balls tighten too.
Kaleb opens the cream, scoops some on his fingers. “Lean over.”
I do, resting on my elbows, butt up.
Kaleb’s hands—rough, warm—touch my cheeks gently now, spreading the cool gel. It soothes the sting instantly.
But his touch? It lights me up. Fingers gliding, careful, almost tender.
I bite my lip to stifle a moan, heat pooling between my legs and my cock aches and throbs.
Don’t think naughty. Book. Think about the book…
The lumberjack hero, felling trees… but damn, it’s him. Kaleb. His strength, his control. No. Plot twist. Make the hero a… baker? Lame. Focus on the plot arc. Independence.
But no matter how much I try to focus on the book, Kaleb’s thumb brushes a sensitive spot, and I gasp out loud.