Bulging muscles, shaved head, tattoos, open rings in his ears­gauged ears. The name of the piercing style popped into his mind. A hint of rings showed through his shirt near his nipples. Other piercings too? So normally not Jeff's type, but damn, the man should come with a drool alert.

Something about Ollie Cranford in baker's whites splattered with a rainbow of colored icing… The shirt was just a little tight around the chest and arms, showing off really nice biceps and pecs.

Jeff suppressed a shudder of desire, but he couldn't stop the growing tightness in his slacks. Maybe exhaustion from the last two months of eighteen-hour workdays was catching up with him. Weakening his control.

And the man's voice­deep with a little rasp of a growl­was enough to drive need pulsing through Jeff's veins.

"The wedding is when?"

"Saturday." Jeff's cock interpreted the simple question as "Wanna fuck?". Desire curled through his body. It had been awhile since lust hit him with such ferocity.

"This Saturday?" An arched eyebrow accompanied the question.

"Yes. My friends decided last week to get married before they went on vacation next week."

"My waiting list is usually a little longer than three days." A slight frown creased Ollie's brow.

"I'm sure it is, but I promised I'd see what I could do." What Jeff really wanted to know was the wait time on Ollie's social calendar. He forced his gaze back to the man's face. He didn't even know if the baker was gay and already his imagination had him pushed over the small table separating them. Or Jeff on his knees. His libido couldn't make up its mind.

"I'm surprised the bride didn't send her maid of honor for this chore." His left eyebrow arched just slightly. A hint of a curl dimpled beside his lips.

A flush of embarrassment crept up Jeff's neck and face. "She did."

Ollie's face split with a wide grin as he chuckled. "Sorry. You're the first."

"Male maid of honor?" His half smile widened to match Ollie's grin.

"Nope. The first one who would admit it."

Ollie's knee brushed Jeff's under the table. A rush of a different kind of warmth shot up to his groin.

Jeff jumped as the door burst open.

A young man stuck his head into the small office. "Hey, boss, you need me to stay and frost that last cake?"

"No, you can go. We can finish it up tomorrow."

"I'll lock up the front then." He flashed a grin and a half wink before he disappeared through the door.

"Thank you, Ricky." Ollie's gaze stayed fixed on Jeff, almost as if he was waiting for a reaction.

The warmth of Ollie's knee pressed against Jeff's again. This time, the contact was a few seconds longer than just an accidental brushing.

"Okay." Ollie twirled a bound notebook around on the table so it was right side up to Jeff. "Here's a catalog of a few of the simpler designs. We won't have time to do anything really complicated but we might be able to work something out."

Jeff drew a slow, deep breath. "I hope we can." He hoped the double meaning wasn't lost on the luscious baker. Moving his leg slightly, he met Ollie's. He bit back a grin as Ollie increased pressure.