Chapter 4: The Doctor is In

Nick stepped back from Candy, giving her a moment to collect herself. She watched as he walked over to the kitchen table, casually picking up the wooden spoon from where he’d left it. He returned it to its spot above the range, not bothering to rinse it off. A shiver ran through her at the thought that today’s taffy would have a little taste of her added to its sugary sweetness.

He returned to her, bending to retrieve her apron and pink sweater. “You should get dressed,” he said, handing her both items.

“Thanks,” she murmured, blushing at the sudden wave of shyness that overtook her. She bent down to gather her tank top, black lace bra, and jeans, but paused, eyeing the soaked lace near his feet. “My panties,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nick smirked, picking them up with one finger, the delicate lace dangling, visibly damp, a string of her slick still clinging to the crotch. “I’ll keep these,” he said, slipping them into his pocket without hesitation.

Candy’s cheeks burned hotter, her stomach tightening with a mix of embarrassment and arousal at the idea of him keeping her soiled panties. “Of course,” she nodded, her voice catching slightly as she stepped into her jeans. The rough denim rubbed against her raw, sensitive flesh, making her wince.

Nick watched her, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, the bulge in his jeans impossible to ignore.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to...?” she trailed off, gesturing toward his crotch.

“I want to bury myself inside you and not pull out until I paint your insides white,” he admitted, giving his cock a quick, casual squeeze, “but unfortunately we need to open first.”

Candy’s eyes darted to the clock, her heart skipping a beat as she realized they were already running at least ten minutes behind schedule. Nick whitewashing her womb would have to wait.

She turned back to him, catching Nick’s eyes on her naked breasts. “You’re staring, Sir,” she teased, her voice laced with newfound confidence.

“You’ve got great tits,” he said bluntly, a grin spreading across his face.

She grinned back, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, her breasts moving freely with her playful energy. His immediate involuntary groan and the unmistakable twitch in his jeans were more than a little gratifying. Candy’s stomach did a happy little flip as a delighted giggle escaped her lips.

Nick stepped closer, eyes glinting with mischief. “You know, I don’t think you’ll be needing this,” he said, plucking the bra from her hands without breaking eye contact.

Candy pouted, pretending disappointment while inside her brain a slutty little cheerleader was doing cartwheels. “But, Sir,” she mock-whined, “without my bra, I’ll be all jiggly and distracting.” As she spoke, she twisted deliberately back and forth, her breasts swaying gently, nipples peaked and hard.

“I like your jiggle,” he murmured, a growl catching in his throat.

“Really?” she asked, her innocent tone accompanied by another exaggerated bounce.

“Fuck,” Nick groaned, his hand instinctively moving to grip the base of his cock through his jeans. “You’re tempting me to throw you down and fuck you senseless.”

Candy bit her lip seductively. “Whatever Sir wants,” she purred.

“Put your top on, slut. I’m going to finish icing these cookies.”

“You could always ice my cookie,” she suggested with a wink, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“You’re a dirty girl, Miss Candy Cane,” he said.

Candy blushed at his praise. “Only for you,” she admitted. This was true. With men, Candy had always been ... Well, not a prude exactly, but certainly reserved. Nick made her feel safe to be a little slutty. Or at least safe in those moments when she wasn’t afraid that he might hurt her. She set aside that thought, smiling up at the handsome man with a goofy lovesick grin. As long as she was a good little slut, Nick wouldn’t need to hurt her.

“Get dressed,” he repeated.

“Yes, Sir,” she said, giving him a coy smile.

Nick let out another frustrated growl, and turned to the half-finished batch of cookies, picking up the piping bag.

Candy considered her tank top for a moment before tossing it aside. If Nick wanted her to jiggle, she’d indulge him. She set her apron on the table and pulled the pink sweater over her head, adjusting the snug material over her bare breasts. The thin, knit hugged her tightly, leaving little to the imagination; her nipples, still hard, were clearly visible. That would have normally embarrassed her, but she was surprised at how comfortable and even confident she felt knowing that Nick would appreciate it.

Nick glanced over, his eyes sweeping over her. “Fuck,” he muttered with a sigh.

Candy grinned. “It’s a little tight,” she teased, looking down at her chest.

“No shit,” he grumbled, shaking his head.

She giggled, grabbing her apron off the table and stepping behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Don’t worry, Sir,” she whispered, her breasts pressing against his back, “You can take it off later.”

Nick groaned, leaning back against her. “Damn right, I will.”

Candy smiled, squeezing him tightly, his hard muscles flexing under her touch. She breathed in his scent, the familiar, masculine musk of him combining with the sweet smells of sugar, cinnamon, and pumpkin spice. She kissed his shoulder and stepped back, hanging her apron on a hook beside the fridge. No sense in covering up the girls, she thought with a grin.

A timer buzzed, and Candy went to the oven, removing the next batch of cookies. She set them on a rack next to the ones Nick was icing, the warm scent of cinnamon and freshly baked pumpkin spice filling the kitchen.

Nick set down the piping bag, the first batch of cookies finished.

“Those look great, Sir,” said Candy, admiring his work. The delicate spider webs he’d created were almost too beautiful to eat.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll put them in the display, and we’ll leave these to cool for a few minutes,” he added, nodding to the fresh batch.

They moved into the front of the front of the store. Candy started a fresh pot of coffee while Nick arranged the cookies in a glass display near the register. Most of their early morning customers were regulars, coming in for coffee and a treat before heading off to work. Among them, lately, were the couple who’d witnessed Candy’s orgasm. A pair of familiar faces, they’d only been coming in for a few weeks. Candy didn’t know their names yet; after this morning, she doubted she ever would.

They’d seemed like a sweet couple. He was a big, friendly, goofy guy, who had a habit of saying “noice” instead of nice, and she was always polite and friendly, if a little quiet. Candy wondered what they’d say if they returned. Would they mention what had happened? Or would they pretend not to have noticed?

Candy flipped the sign in the window to open, unlocked the front door, and then turned on the lights, filling the room with a warm glow. Nick stood behind the counter, watching her with that familiar, predatory smirk.

She smiled shyly, crossing the shop and joining him behind the counter. “Do I pass inspection?” she asked.

“You’re a perfect slut,” he said, his voice low and husky.

Candy blushed her whole body tingling. It had been years since anyone had complimented her so freely and openly, even if slut was a little vulgar. Nick had hard edges and a tendency to roughness, but it was honest in a way that she found comforting.

She shot a glance at the front door, but the morning crowd hadn’t arrived yet. “I like ... I like it when you call me that.”

“Slut?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her cheeks burning. “It’s degrading, but it’s also ... really hot.”

“Well, you’re in luck, Candy,” he said with a smirk. “Because that’s probably the least degrading thing I’m going to call you.”