Exquisite

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Exquisite Page 9

by Ella Frank


  Grinning at her friend, Lena shook her head. “No, as I recall you set me up and left me alone with a man who wanted to stalk me.”

  “Oh.” Shelly sighed dramatically, putting her hand on her heart. “If only we all could be so unlucky.”

  “Shut it, Shelly. You still aren’t forgiven. What’s in the box?”

  She shook her head and slid the small white box over to her. “I have no idea. Brandy said it just got here for you. So I thought I’d be a pal and bring it in.”

  Lena frowned as she looked at it. There was nothing on the outside and just a small envelope on top.

  “Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Shelly demanded, sitting forward. Lena took the card off the box and went straight to the tape holding down the sides. As she battled with the tape, Shelly sat back and asked, “So what time’s the big date?”

  Lena looked at her. “You make it sound like it is my first date . . . ever.”

  “Well, come on, Lena. It kind of is and look who it’s with.”

  As Lena thought back to Monday, she succeeded in flipping open the lid of the box. Nestled inside under some orange tissue paper was the ripest, most succulent looking peach she’d ever seen. Feeling a grin tug at the corner of her mouth, she sat back with the envelope and opened it. Shelly sat forward and pulled out the plump piece of fruit. She spun it in her hand from left to right and then looked at Lena with an expression that could have been accompanied by an imaginary question mark.

  “I don’t get it. He sent you a peach?”

  Lena pulled the card out and then glanced down, still grinning. Immediately she felt her grin drop and her cheeks heat as a blush crawled all the way up her neck and onto her face. Shelly must’ve noticed because she sprung up, put the peach in the box, and swiped the card from her.

  Taking a moment to read the note, Shelly whispered, “Holy shit. You lucky bitch.”

  She dropped the card on the table and grabbed the peach again. Lena picked up the note and doubled checked if what she’d read was right. Yep, there it was in bold masculine handwriting:

  8:30pm, Exquisite

  I’ve got the peaches, you bring the cream.

  Holy shit was right.

  Mason was unsure how Lena would react to his invitation, but he was hoping it made her as hot as it had made him when the inspiration had struck. He’d decided that for tonight he would do as he had said and cook for her. He was going to prepare a basic Italian fettuccini with his special alfredo sauce and for dessert—well that was still up in the air at this point. After setting everything up in the private dining room upstairs, he stood at the small bar and looked around. The smaller dining room was outfitted with a scaled back version of the commercial kitchen downstairs and it had the capacity to seat fifty. However, tonight it was set up for two and everyone was under strict instructions not to venture upstairs unless the place was on fire. For all intents and purposes, he was not here. It was just about to hit eight thirty p.m. when the phone on the wall rang. Picking it up, Mason heard Wendy’s voice. “Your date just walked in.” She paused and then added quickly in a soft whisper, “You must’ve done something right; she dressed up for you tonight.”

  With that parting remark from Wendy, Mason rubbed his hands together and walked to the stairs leading down to the main entrance. The side stairs brought him out behind the crowd and he spotted Lena straight away.

  Her long curls were clipped up on top of her head in a knot of some sort and several little ones were escaping down around her ears. From behind, he could see her tight little ass hugged lovingly by a sleek black skirt, and as he looked down her long legs, he was surprised by the bright red spiked heels she was wearing. Oh shit, they were hot. If the back view was this impressive, he could not wait for her to turn around. So he called her name.

  “Lena.”

  Lena heard her name and turned to see Mason standing in a doorway off to the left. Leaning his left shoulder against the frame, he crossed his legs casually. He exuded confidence and had every right to. He looked sexy as hell. Dressed in a white V-neck shirt that looked to be made of the softest cotton one could find, she noticed it was so snug that she could see the outline of his biceps where his arms were crossed over his chest. Her eyes traveled past that magnificent sight and zeroed in on the black belt with the silver buckle at his waist. Unconsciously, she licked her lips as she continued down his long legs, which were wrapped in some designer charcoal colored pants that hugged his perfect thighs and she was sure, a perfect ass. Finally, when she was about to overheat, she looked back at him as he smirked at her. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to him, reached into her bag, and then smiled as she handed him a small white carton. He took it, looked down, and then laughed so loud everyone turned to look at them. He lifted his laughing eyes from his hand to her.

  “You brought the cream.”

  Smiling, she nodded. “I did.”

  Moving to the side, he motioned for her to follow. “We’re going to be eating up here tonight.”

  Brushing past him, she inhaled that amazing smell of his and started up the stairs. She’d picked out a black pencil skirt with a flare around the knees, since he seemed so fond of them, and had paired it with a siren-red sleeveless blouse that dipped down between her cleavage. When she hit the top step, she opened the door and stopped in her tracks. Wow, when the man went all out, he went all out. The lighting was low, emulating dusk, and there were lights sprinkled around the eaves of the room, giving it a nighttime effect. However, what made it so spectacular were the floor-to-ceiling windows at the far end that showed off the stars and gave the effect of an endless night sky.

  In the center of the room sat an elegant table with a candle and off to her left she noticed there was a bar with swinging doors that led into what she presumed was the kitchen. It was simply breathtaking. She looked over her shoulder to where he’d stopped and spoke softly. “It’s amazing up here.”

  “Thanks.”

  He placed a warm hand on her back and ushered her inside, then moved around to the bar.

  “Bring all your dates here?” It wasn’t a conscious question on her behalf, and she actually winced when he stopped to look at her, but instead of being angry, he grinned.

  “Not a single one of the thirty-three.”

  Lena swallowed and then bit her bottom lip, looking around and wondering what he wanted her to do.

  “Why don’t you put your bag down, then come back here and tell me what you want to drink?”

  Moving away to the table, she placed her purse on the edge. When she turned to walk back to him, she noticed he was standing with his hip leaning against the bar, watching her. She made a conscious decision right then to not let him intimidate her with his mischievous blue eyes, twinkling at her, and that sexy mouth that was pulled into a smug curve as his lickable dimples crept out to play. It wasn’t fair that he was so damn bitable. Was that even a word? She was who she was, he knew that, and he had still asked her out. So she was just going to be herself and see what happened and that started with finding some of that damn confidence she knew she had. Locking her eyes with his, she walked back over to him.

  Mason didn’t know what’d just happened but whatever it was, he was enjoying it. Lena had seemed a little hesitant at first and he was wondering how this was going to play out but as she walked back toward him he could tell something in her had shifted, as if she’d decided something. She looked amazing in red; that was the decision he’d come to when she finally reached the bar. He pushed back off it and placed his hands on the top in order to stop himself from reaching out and tracing the curve of her cleavage that kept peeking out at him.

  “What can I get you to drink?”

  “A glass of wine is good for me. Langley.” She hitched herself up on the chair and then placed her elbows on the bar, resting her chin on one hand as she watched him reach for the bottle and uncork it. “Red good?”

  She nodded. “Red’s great.”

  “Oh yes it
is.” He grinned and then pushed a glass toward her while he picked one up himself. She lifted it and sipped slowly, seeming to swirl it around in her mouth before she swallowed. That was an erotic act all on its own, Mason thought as she tilted her head and sniffed the air.

  “Hmm, dinner smells amazing.”

  Smiling at her, he couldn’t help but reach across the bar and twist a curl around his finger. Looking at him with sparkling eyes, she smiled as he answered with a slow “Thank you.”

  Lena didn’t care about any promises that she had made to herself; she decided that she had to kiss this man. She watched him as he let go of her curl and picked up his glass, taking a sip. The air was heavy with tension. She could feel it coming off her body as it itched to get closer to him. She picked her own drink up, not taking her eyes away from him, and took another sip. One for courage, she thought, before asking, “Don’t you think we should just get the obvious over with?” What could she say? She’d never claimed to be subtle.

  He placed his wine glass down on the bar and moved away. As disappointment mounted inside her, she was shocked to see him walk around the end of the bar and come toward her. Swiveling on the stool, she watched him as he approached.

  The only way she could think to describe the way he was watching her was hungry. He looked at her as a starved man would a meal. Stopping so close to her that she could feel the fabric from his pants brush her knees, he reached out and gripped the bar’s edge with one hand and tried for a casual pose. It didn’t work. He looked as tense as she felt. “And what, Lena, is the obvious?”

  Swallowing and placing her hands in her lap, she straightened up and answered him the way he’d told her to—honestly. “The first kiss, you know? The awkward one. The one where . . .” she trailed off abruptly because he’d moved his hand and it was now gently squeezing her bare knee that was crossed over the other. Looking down at it and then back at him, she was mesmerized by his eyes that were now close to incinerating her, they were burning so hot.

  “You think our first kiss will be awkward?”

  “Ahhh . . .” she stammered a little because he was now stroking circles around her kneecap. “Stop,” she said softly.

  “Stop?” he questioned and stepped closer until she had to uncross her legs to sit taller. His hard thighs were now pressed to her bare knees and his fingers were resting lightly on her left one, but he had in fact stopped moving. Licking her lips she once again looked down at his big hand, then back at him. She watched as a wicked smile crept onto his face and he leaned in, a mere breath away, and then licked his own lips, watching her closely. She swallowed, felt her eyes widen, and then surprised herself when a small moan slipped free as his fingers trailed softly onto the inside of her knee a little higher on her thigh.

  “Stop?” he asked again, this time flicking his tongue out to lick across her bottom lip. He didn’t go any further; he just waited, watching her fall apart in his hands. She blinked and shook her head slowly, in a daze.

  “What was that?” he whispered across her lips.

  She shook her head with a little more force, growing increasingly frustrated, and then heard a loud buzzing noise. She glanced away for a moment and that seemed to break the spell.

  “That would be dinner.”

  Lena watched him stand up straight and felt the throb of his arousal brush her knee. He gave her a tight smile and she watched him walk around the bar. As he went into the kitchen, she let out a shaky breath. Okay, so she’d wanted the first kiss over with but she had a feeling that she had been one second away from being devoured. Saved by the bell, anyone?

  Mason walked over to the timer and switched it off. Taking a deep breath, he ran his hands through his hair and tried to get himself under control. What the hell? he thought as he took the sauce from the stove, then the pasta. She’d asked for a first kiss and he’d almost flattened her out on top of his bar. The woman made him crazy, absolutely crazy. One minute she was feisty and confident and the next she was melting and wide-eyed. The combination was driving him insane. He plated their food and brought it out to the dining room. He noticed she’d moved and had seated herself safely at the table. Grinning, he moved to place her meal in front of her. She shyly smiled at him and thanked him as he sat down opposite her and grated the cheese over her meal.

  “Stop,” she said softly. Looking at her, he raised an eyebrow, and then she smiled and shocked him. “This time I mean it.”

  Nodding slowly, Mason watched her as he answered, “I’ll have to remember that.”

  She took a bite of her food and groaned softly. It was such an unexpectedly erotic noise that Mason stopped what he was doing for a moment to enjoy her as she ate her meal. When she noticed he was watching her, she asked, “Why aren’t you eating?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “I’m having too much fun watching you eat.”

  “This is delicious.” She took another mouthful, licked her lips, and then followed it with a sip of the red wine. “Seriously, you can cook for me anytime you like.”

  “Now that’s an offer I may take you up on.”

  As they finished their meal, they talked about where he’d studied cooking and why he’d decided to become a chef—small talk to pass the time. She talked about her job and how sometimes it was difficult but on most days, there was something that reminded her of why she was doing it. When they finally finished and had managed to drink a whole bottle of wine and were halfway into the second, he asked her to come with him into the kitchen. She followed him back and stopped when he told her to wait by the large stainless steel table. She waited, watching him the best she could when he disappeared around the corner. When he came back, he was carrying a pie base. He put it down then he smiled at her and handed her a knife.

  “Ahh, you want me to cook?” she asked hesitantly.

  He grinned and one of his dimples appeared. “Nope, I want you to chop.” He turned and moved away again, opening the fridge and then bending over, giving her a fine view of his ass. Then he straightened and turned back to her with a bowl full of ripe peaches. He smiled as she looked at the bowl of fruit and then raised questioning eyes back to him. Without a single word, he turned and walked away from her and moved back down one of the aisles. When he returned he was carrying two black aprons. He moved toward her and stopped when he was close enough that she could feel the heat radiate from his body.

  “This is about to get really sticky.”

  Lena knew he was referring to the peaches but as she stood still, letting her eyes roam all over this sexy as hell man, all she could think was she already was.

  “Best to put one of these on,” he told her, moving even closer and reaching out to place the apron tie over her head. Once it was on he then tugged it down on the sides and pulled her in close so that she stumbled and had to put her palms up to hold herself. Her hands landed on a hard strong chest and as she gave into the pressing urge to squeeze, she felt him take a deep breath and wrap his arms around her waist.

  “What are you doing?” she squeaked.

  She felt him moving his big palms along her back and down past her hips where he must have found what he wanted. He grinned, his face so close she could almost lick his dimples, and then whispered, “I’m tying you up.” And with that provocative comment, he brought his hands back to the front with two of the apron ties and proceeded in fact to tie the strings at her waist.

  Mercifully, he took a step back, took his own apron, and placed it over his head. When he finished securing it he smiled at her and Lena was sure she was standing there with some kind of dopey look on her face because quite honestly, this guy was dreamy and she was starting to think and feel like a twelve-year-old with a crush.

  “And now that we are safe from a sticky disaster, we can start,” he told her triumphantly.

  She managed to smile at him. “Ahh, I see,” she said, feeling a lot more relaxed as the wine in her hit. “This is what the peaches were all about.”

  Nodding, he placed t
he bowl down and passed her one. Taking it, she watched him as he came to stand next to her. He picked one up and started to peel it. “You have to peel it first.”

  Lena set about copying him. The skin came away easily, leaving a sticky mess behind and she watched as he placed his on the board and then started the chop it into precise pieces. She too placed hers on the board, watching him as she tried to imitate his quick moves. Once it was done, he reached into the bowl and pulled out another one. By the time they were finished, peeled peaches were everywhere and her hands were a mess. She looked around for the sink. Spotting it behind her, she placed the knife down and began moving toward it when she felt a warm sticky hand grab her wrist.

  “And where are you going?”

  Lena looked at his smirk and smiled. “To wash my hands, Langley. I’m a mess.”

  Very slowly, he lifted her hand to his mouth and licked the end of her ring finger. She froze as he pulled her in close and sucked the same finger deeper inside his hot mouth. She watched as her finger disappeared into the hot wet heat and then reappeared. Looking up at him with her mouth slightly parted, she stood frozen as he reached up and traced one of his sticky fingers across her bottom lip. She was about to lick it off when he shook his head and wrapped one arm around her. Reaching down beside them, she watched as he grabbed a piece of peach and slid it across her bottom lip, pushing it slowly inside. She let out a soft sigh as the cool wetness hit her tongue and she chewed slowly as he watched her. He groaned low in his throat and pulled her in close. Leaning down he sucked her bottom lip slowly into his mouth. Lena started to sway a little but it didn’t matter because he was holding her in his arms as he nibbled and licked his way across her bottom lip. Moving his head back, she whimpered. She did not want him to stop this time and actually thought she just might die if he did.

  Mason watched her eyes cloud over and close as he reached down again and picked up another piece of peach. He lifted it up, used the peach slice to paint the left side of her neck, and then dipped his head down to trace the sweet sticky line with his tongue before he whispered, “Ready for that awkward kiss, Lena?”

 

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