Truthfully, he was already shaking. He wanted to draw her into his arms so badly he had to grip the shaker with both hands to control the impulse. He watched her roll out the dough with a big wooden pin.
"How have you been?" she asked, concentrating on her task. She was probably avoiding looking at him.
"Okay. You?"
"Okay."
She rolled the dough into a big rectangle. An awkward silence stretched between them. She reached for a tub of softened butter and spread it over the dough with her hands. He was imagining buttering up her breasts until they were slippery, pressing the succulent globes together, and sliding his cock …
"Eric?"
Rebekah's inquiry pulled him out of his delicious fantasy. A fantasy he could have made a reality less than a week ago. "Huh?"
"You can start shaking the cinnamon and sugar now."
"Okay," he said breathlessly.
He moved to stand beside her. She worked her way down the dough, still spreading it with a thick layer of melty, slippery butter, and he followed, shaking the cinnamon and sugar mixture over the butter. He was soon lost in fantasyland again. Rebekah was rubbing that butter all over her breasts, her nipples standing erect and begging to be licked. Instead of shaking sweet powder over the dough, he was stroking his cock and spurting cum all over her chest. His attention riveted to her chest.
The first signs of her arousal produced two small bumps on the front of her blouse. He was showing off his own arousal as a bulge in his pants. They had both stopped working and were staring at each other's hard evidence.
"What are you thinking about?" she whispered.
"Watching you spread butter on your breasts until they're all slippery, while I jack off and come all over your tits," he whispered back.
"I want it in my mouth," she whispered.
Eric groaned. It wasn't nice to tease him like that. Wasn't she going to marry Isaac? He opened his mouth to ask her just that when Mrs. B appeared on Rebekah's opposite side.
"Are you two about finished?" Mrs. B said. "We've got to get those in the oven."
Mrs. B helped herself to Rebekah's butter and spread it over the dough. Eric's erection withered to nothingness. He was no longer entertaining fantasies of slippery breasts.
"I've got it, Mom," Rebekah said, spreading butter faster now.
Eric shook his shaker more vigorously to coat the buttered dough.
"Go get the baking sheet," Mrs. B said to Rebekah.
Rebekah glanced at Eric and then went to retrieve a baking sheet, her buttery hands in the air.
"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," Mrs. B said to Eric as soon as Rebekah was out of earshot. "Trying to interfere with her relationship with Isaac. It won't work. She will marry that young man, and you will not mess things up."
Wow, this woman hated him. It wasn't the first time someone had hated Eric, but it didn't usually bother him this much.
"Why are you busting my balls, lady?"
Mrs. B's eyebrows attempted to disappear into her hairline. "Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners?"
"No, actually, she deserted me when I was four years old."
"I can understand why," Mrs. B huffed.
Eric set his jaw in a harsh line and dropped the shaker on the counter. He felt like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. He didn't often think about the mother who had left him behind. He sure as hell didn't agonize over his situation or let it bother him, but that … that hurt. Stomach in knots, heart aching, eyes stinging, Eric turned and strode away before he called Rebekah's mother a fucking bitch to her face.
"What did you say to him?" he heard Rebekah ask her mother as she returned with the baking sheet.
"Nothing," Mrs. B said in a saccharine sweet voice. "Isaac," she called. "Would you mind helping Rebekah cut the dough into strips? She was never any good at it."
"Sure thing, Mrs. B," Isaac said eagerly.
Aggie snagged Eric around the waist as he stalked by. "We could use some help," she said. Eric found himself wedged between Jace and Aggie. They continued to peel potatoes. Eric stood there and gulped air.
"You okay?" Jace asked.
"I was until Mrs. Bitch showed up."
Jace sniggered. "She makes a guy miss his mama not at all."
"I think she's even worse than my mother," Aggie said, "and that's saying something."
"She gets along with Isaac fine. She just hates me."
Aggie bumped Eric's leg with her hip. "She doesn't know you, doll. If she got to know you-"