15. Buster

FIFTEEN

Buster

4:19 pm

I can sense Cole is flirting with me. At least, I hope I'm not misreading her signals. The way she's looking at me, her body language—it's all screaming interest. I decide to test the waters.

"I'd love a tour of the back of the house," I say, gesturing behind the counter. "I've heard about this mysterious set-up you advertise about."

Cole's eyes light up. She reaches across the counter and grabs my hand, sending a jolt through me.

"Only VIPs get to see this part of the cafe," she says with a playful smirk, leading me around.

Her hand is soft and warm in mine as she pulls me along. The proximity is intoxicating. We pass through a swinging door into the kitchen area, but Cole doesn't stop there. She tugs me further back, clearly excited to show me something specific.

"Check this out," she says, stopping in front of an impressive piece of equipment.

It's a coffee roaster, but unlike any I've seen before. The machine is clearly vintage, all gleaming copper and brass. It's been meticulously restored, looking both antique and perfectly functional.

"This is our pride and joy," Cole explains, running her hand lovingly over the roaster's surface. "It's an antique we had restored. We use it to roast all our signature blends."

I'm genuinely impressed. "Wow, that's incredible. I had no idea you roasted your own beans here."

Cole nods enthusiastically. "It's what sets us apart. The flavors you can get from this beauty are unmatched."

As she talks about the roaster, her passion is evident. I find myself captivated not just by the machine but by her excitement. She's in her element here, and it's incredibly attractive.

I can't help myself any longer. The tension between us, Cole's flirtatious energy, and the intimacy of this hidden space behind the cafe overwhelm my senses. I gently push Cole against the wall next to the vintage roaster in one swift motion. Our eyes lock for a brief, electric moment before I lean in and capture her lips with mine.

The kiss is passionate and urgent. All the pent-up desire from our recent encounters pours out. Cole responds immediately, her lips moving against mine with equal enthusiasm. Her hands slide up my chest and around my neck, pulling me closer.

I deepen the kiss, one hand cupping her face while the other rests on her waist. The smell of coffee beans mingles with Cole's perfume, creating an intoxicating aroma. The heat from the nearby roaster matches the fire building between us.

Cole's fingers tangle in my hair as she arches into me, eliminating any remaining space between our bodies. I trail kisses along her jaw, then down her neck, eliciting a soft gasp from her. Her skin is smooth and warm under my lips.

"Buster," she breathes, her voice husky with desire.

I reclaim her mouth, kissing her deeply. Our tongues dance as the passion intensifies. Cole's hands roam my back, pulling me even closer. The world around us fades away. In this moment, there's only Cole and me and this incredible connection we share.

No way can I resist her any longer. The way she moves around the cafe, her confidence, and her passion for her work is intoxicating. And those joggers she's wearing? They hug her curves so perfectly that I've been fighting a losing battle against my desire since the moment I walked in.

I press her against the wall beside the roaster, my body pinning hers. The heat radiating off her only fuels the fire within me. My hands explore her body, tracing the contours of her hips, her waist, and her breasts. Every inch of her feels like it's mine to discover, and I'm more than eager to do so.

Cole's eyes are locked on mine, full of need and desire. That look—raw, unfiltered want—sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core. I slip my hand beneath the waistband of her joggers, my fingers seeking out the warm, wet center of her desire. She's already so ready for me, and the knowledge makes me groan against her lips.

I pull down her joggers, exposing her to the cool air of the cafe's back room, and she gasps, a flush spreading across her cheeks. I can't help but smirk; I love seeing her like this, so undone by my touch. I stroke her, my fingers sliding through her slickness, teasing and tormenting her in the best possible way.

"Buster," she moans, her head tipping back against the wall. The sound of my name on her lips is almost enough to undo me.

I kiss her again, swallowing her moans as I continue to stroke her. Her hips move in time with my hand, her body seeking out the pleasure I'm offering. I can feel her walls tightening around my fingers, and I can feel her climbing higher and higher with each passing second.

Waiting any longer is not an option. I need to be inside her. I need to feel her wrapped around me. As I free myself from my jeans, my cock springs free, aching with need. I position myself at her entrance, and with one swift thrust, I'm inside her.

The sensation of her tight, wet heat enveloping me is almost too much to bear. I start to move, each stroke deeper and more powerful than the last. The wall behind Cole creaks with the force of our passion, but neither of us cares. All that matters is this moment, this connection, this raw, animalistic joining of our bodies.

I can feel Cole's orgasm building, and I can feel her body tensing around me. I thrust into her harder, faster, chasing her pleasure as well as my own. And then she's there, her inner walls clamping down around me as she cries out in ecstasy.

The feel of her coming undone sends me over the edge. I bury myself deep inside her one last time, my own release crashing over me in wave after wave of pure, unadulterated bliss.

As our breathing slowly returns to normal, I pull back to look at Cole. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen from our kisses, and her eyes shine with a mix of satisfaction and surprise. I can't help but grin at her, proud of the pleasure I've given her.

But as much as I'd love to stay buried inside her forever, I know we can't linger here. Reluctantly, I withdraw from her and help her pull her joggers back into place. I gently kiss her forehead, then step back to give her some space.

We're both quiet for a moment, the reality of what just happened between us hanging in the air. But before we can say anything, the bell over the cafe door jingles, signaling the arrival of new customers.

Cole's eyes go wide, and I can't help but chuckle at her panic. "I'll go keep them busy," I whisper, pressing one last quick kiss to her lips before I head back out to the front of the cafe and leave Cole to collect herself in the back.

I grin as I catch my breath, still reeling from our passionate encounter. "I think I need a cigarette and another coffee after that," I joke, running a hand through my disheveled hair.

Cole laughs, her cheeks still flushed. "Well, I can help you with one of those things," she quips, adjusting her twisted dress.

We share a conspiratorial smile, but our moment is interrupted by another jingling of the bell at the front door. We spring into action, scrambling to make ourselves presentable. Cole quickly pulls on her panties and smooths down her dress while I yank up my scrub pants, fumbling with the drawstring.

Just as I finish tying the knot on my pants, Nelson appears in the doorway. I try to keep my expression neutral, but I can feel the heat rising in my face. Cole clears her throat.

"Oh, hey, Nelson," she says, her voice a touch too high. "I was just showing Buster our vintage roaster."

I nod enthusiastically, hoping my face isn't as red as it feels. "It's awe-inspiring," I add, gesturing to the machine. "Quite a piece of equipment you've got here."

Nelson's eyes flick between us, and for a moment, I'm sure he's going to call us out. But he nods and moves further into the room.

Cole and I exchange a quick glance, relief mingling with lingering desire.

"I should probably get going," I say reluctantly. "Thanks for the...tour, Cole."

She smiles, a promise in her eyes. "Anytime, Buster. Come back soon."

I can't wipe the grin off my face as I head for the door. This thing with Cole might be a minefield, but damn if it isn't exciting.

5:27 pm

I sit in Jake's office, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Jake slides a stack of papers across the desk, his expression serious.

"This is the partition action complaint," Jake explains. "By signing this, we're formally requesting the court to intervene and force a decision on how to divide the interest in the house. Since Lara refuses to agree, this is our best option."

I nod, picking up the pen with a mix of reluctance and determination. "So, what happens after I sign this?"

"Once you sign, we'll file the complaint with the court. They'll review it and set a hearing date. We'll present our case during the hearing, and the judge will decide how to proceed. Typically, the court orders the sale of the property and divides the proceeds according to each party's interest."

I take a deep breath and sign the document, feeling a sense of finality. "Alright, let's do this."

Jake nods, taking the signed papers and placing them in a folder. "We'll get this filed right away. It's a big step, but it's the right one. We'll make sure you get your fair share of the house."

As I leave Jake's office, I feel anxious and relieved at the same time. It's not going to be easy, but at least I'm taking control and not letting her dictate every move.

With the legal action underway, I can see a future where this chapter with Lara is finally closed.

The screen, in my mind, split between what just went down at Brewed Awakening with Cole and now being here dealing with Lara, shows the definition of contrast. The whole thing has me all turned around. I'm having difficulty making heads or tails about either one individually. Both happening simultaneously is like living inside of a hurricane.

6:04 pm

I sink into the hot leather seat of my car, my mind swirling with legal jargon and the weight of what I've just set in motion. The need to blow off some steam is overwhelming. I pull out my phone, firing off quick texts to a few friends, hoping someone's up for a game of pickleball. No luck. Everyone's either working late or has family commitments.

Frustrated, I press the button to start the engine and head back to the condo. As I drive, I can't shake the feeling of restlessness. The pool—that's what I need—a good, challenging swim to clear my head.

I park and go up to my place, quickly changing into my swim trunks. They are the ones I wore to the water park that day with Lucy. Luckily, the blood came out with a wash.

I grab a towel and head down to the pool area. The late afternoon sun glints off the water's surface, inviting me in.

When I dive, the cool water envelops me. After a few warm-up laps, I feel the tension in my muscles starts to ease. Then, I pick up the pace, pushing myself harder with each stroke. The rhythmic movement and the sound of water rushing past my ears help drown out the noise in my head.

Lap after lap, I lose myself in the repetition. Lara, the house, the legal mess—it all fades away for a while. There's just me, the water, and the burn in my muscles.

I'm unsure how long I've been swimming when I finally pause at the pool's edge, breathing hard. My arms and legs feel like jelly but in a good way. The physical exertion has done its job, leaving me pleasantly exhausted and my mind clearer.

As I pull myself out of the pool, water cascading off me, I realize I needed this. The swim hasn't solved any of my problems, but it's given me a much-needed reset. I towel off, ready to face whatever comes next with a clearer head.