Monday, 7 November 2016



Ever wondered what it would be like to just go with it? You know, buy that dress you saw even though you can’t really afford it? Have that cake even though you know you shouldn’t and enjoy every deliciously sinful mouthful?

How about the guy that keeps giving you the green light? Would you sit and wait for him to make a move or would you go for it? That’s what Ben asks himself when the hottie who’s been coming in for the same cup of coffee and blueberry muffin for the past two weeks knocks on his door…


The chime of the bell above the door heralded the arrival of another customer and the fine hairs on the back of Ben’s neck prickled. He was here—Brown-Eyes as Ben had christened him—right on time. Ben swallowed hard and turned around as nonchalantly as he could. Brown-Eyes sat at the table in the corner, the menu in his hand as he scanned the contents. Why he did that, Ben had no idea; he’d been ordering the same thing at the same time for the last two weeks. Every time he did it, Ben wondered if he was going to choose something different but it was always the same—a white coffee and a blueberry muffin.
Ben tried not to sigh out loud, barely achieving his goal as he remembered the first time the man came in. It had been late afternoon, just like now and Ben had been alone in the shop. Clem had left early that day, he couldn’t remember why, and this lean, toned, thick wavy chestnut-haired piece of tall, dark and drop dead gorgeous walked through the door. Ben had been absently chewing a mouthful of cheese and ham croissant at the time and nearly choked on it when he locked eyes with the stranger and his mouth dried up quicker than the Sahara in a sandstorm.
“Roll up your tongue,” Clem mumbled beside him.
“Shut up.” Ben took his notepad out of his pocket and squared his shoulders.
“Need a breath mint?”
Ben ignored Clem’s snicker and prayed he wouldn’t trip over his own feet on the way to the man’s table. Brown-Eyes looked up from the menu as he approached and, if Ben was given to whimsical prose, he would’ve sworn his knees trembled. Hell, who was he kidding? Everything trembled. He cleared his throat and stood, pen poised over the blank page of his notepad.
“Welcome to Perkatory, what can I get you?” Clearing his throat hadn’t made a damn bit of difference, he still sounded as though he’d sucked hard on a balloon full of helium.
“I’ll have a white coffee and a blue—”
“Berry muffin?” Ben finished for him. Brown-Eyes smiled and Ben’s cock pressed against his zipper as heat shot through him.
“Am I that predictable?”
Ben returned his smile. “It does seem to be your thing.”
“Okay….” Brown-Eyes leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. His gaze lazily drifted over Ben from tip to toe, touching on his name tag, before he said with a definite suggestive lilt. “… Ben. What would you recommend?”
Oh so many things… is what Ben thought, but what he actually said was, “The cinnamon and pumpkin muffins are good, if you’re looking for something with a little bite. Or the pumpkin cheesecake if you need to satisfy a sweet tooth.”
“Pumpkin cheesecake?” Brown-Eyes’ eyebrow tilted just a fraction as he added, “Will I be satisfied?”
“I can guarantee it.” The words were out of Ben’s mouth before he could stop them. What the hell was he doing flirting with a customer? Not that the customer in question seemed to mind. In fact, those deep brown eyes flashed fire as they rested for a tad too long than was perhaps proper on Ben’s crotch—thankfully hidden by his apron.
“Then how can I refuse?”
Ben blushed warmly and cleared his throat again. Maybe he was coming down with something? What? Sex-on-a-stick syndrome? Ben ignored his inner voice and scribbled the order down on his pad. “Coming right up,” he said briskly and turned on his heel before the wet noodles that had replaced his legs collapsed on him completely.
Ben did his best to avoid Clem’s gaze, as he took a mug off the shelf beside the coffee machine and put a paper coaster with the shop’s logo on the saucer. He could feel the son of a bitch staring at him as he filled the mug with freshly percolated coffee then added a dash of milk. Didn’t need to look at Clem to know he was smirking, so he continued with his task without a word, cutting a generous piece of cheesecake and putting it on a plate. He remained focused straight ahead as he sprinkled chocolate over the cheesecake and added a couple of slices of strawberry to garnish. Clem was willing him to look at him, even give him the teeniest of glances, but he was not going to cave. If he did, any attempt at being the slightest bit cool would crumble around him and leave him a bumbling mess with flushed cheeks and sneakers full of butt sweat.
“Enjoy,” Ben said with as natural a smile as he could manage as he placed the cheesecake and coffee in front of Brown-Eyes. Then he walked back to the counter and busied himself at the dishwasher.
“My God.
“Shut up.”
Thankfully Clem lowered his voice. “Do you have a penis?”
Ben groaned inwardly and finally met Clem’s gaze. “Do you have any boundaries?”
“Surprisingly, no.” Clem glanced over at the table where the customer was practically inhaling the cheesecake Ben had served him. “What are you wigging out for? He’s a hottie and he’s giving you the green light. Take the stick outta your ass and live a little.”

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