The Interview

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The Interview Page 4

by Caitlin Ricci


  She stepped away and for a moment Jacob thought she might be rejecting him. Until she grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the bathroom. “I believe I do. But first, we wash. I don’t discuss business when I’m naked. It’s bad form.”

  Chuckling, he followed her into the bathroom and waited while she turned on the hot water in the shower. Like her bedroom and the rest of her apartment, this room was tidy, spotless and tastefully decorated. It seemed that most of the chefs he’d met had a need for order and control in common, though he’d certainly never asked if they were all into bondage like Anne was.

  He checked the water temperature before she had a chance to, making sure it would be just right for them both.

  “What are you thinking about?” She stepped into the water, the hot spray covering her shoulders and soaking her thick brown hair.

  Jacob smiled as he followed her in. “How I want to be available for you whenever you’ve got a need.” He moved his hands to her hips and pulled her close, fitting them together, his hardening cock resting on her navel.

  She gave him a wink and turned in his arms. While he figured she’d just be getting the bar of soap behind her, she slowly bent, making sure not to break contact between them as she lowered herself in front of him. He groaned and rubbed against her ass, sliding himself between her cheeks until she straightened up. She was a tease but he was starting to figure out that she’d deliver on her promises, and he intended to have her every way he could.

  “Oh, you’ll be around,” she said, handing the bar of soap over to him.

  “I know.” He smiled, quite happy about that.

  Anne nodded. “As my new executive chef I’ll have weekly meetings with you to make sure things are still going well. You’ll give yourself over to me all morning, sometimes longer than that. These meetings might tend to run long some days. Think you can handle that?”

  He laughed. “Hell yes. I’ll be whatever you need, Chef.”

  Raising up on the tips of her toes, she gave his chin a little nip. “Good. I look forward to our next meeting. But for now I need you in a different regard.”

  Jacob nodded, eager to do anything for the woman in his arms. “Whatever you want.”

  She tilted her head back, letting the water fall over her face and chest. “Then wash me.”

  Smiling, Jacob reached for her full breasts, eager to please her again. His cock hardened all over again as he soaped up her full breasts and felt their weight in his hands. He’d never been with someone as strong as she, was but he was quickly beginning to realize that something different than what he’d had in the past was exactly what he needed now. He’d come to Chef Anne for a chance at being her executive chef, and he’d found so much more. His heart raced with all the possibilities that their new relationship would entail.

  Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

  Seasoned Women: Sex on Summer Sabbatical

  Stacey Lynn Rhodes

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  “Ohhh.”

  Tori couldn’t stifle a moan as the almost-pain of exerting muscles that seldom got used kicked in. It’d been a long time. Too long.

  Panting slightly, she enjoyed the stretch as perspiration beaded across her glowing skin. She strained toward the pleasure she felt hovering just beyond reach.

  Almost there. Almost there…

  C’mon, endorphins.

  Oh no. Side stitch.

  And a cramp.

  Shit.

  Tori limped to an abrupt halt, pressing her hands to the sharp ache in her lower abdomen while scoping out a relatively clean spot on the curb to collapse on. Using one hand to frantically massage her spasming calf, Tori had to use some of her very limited breath to laugh out loud at her dilemma as the humor of the situation struck her. So much for a brilliant start on her goals.

  “I was going to offer you some help, but it sounds like you’re doing okay now.”

  The deep voice must belong to the person wearing the running shoes in front of her, but for the life of her, Tori couldn’t look up just then, concentrating on her inexpert massage while trying to breathe through the pain in her side.

  “Oh, no. Not okay. But I had a feeling this would happen. It was going too well, know what I mean? First time I’ve run in years.”

  A warm, sympathetic chuckle. “Well, you were looking good, right up until you seized up.”

  “I’ll bet that was pretty comical to watch. Ah, ah!” The cramp in her leg spiked painfully in spite of her efforts. Why the hell had she thought she could start exercising again? All at once she felt every year of her age. Oh to be a teen again, when she could run without any effort at all.

  “Here, you have to flex it. No, don’t point!” Strong hands forced her foot back toward her body as her rescuer knelt before her like Cinderella’s prince. “Deep breaths, really deep. Fill your belly. That’ll help your stitch.”

  “How’d you know I had a stitch in my side?” Tori panted, curled up in as close to a ball as she could get with one leg stuck out in front of her.

  “I could tell by the way you suddenly grabbed your stomach like you’d been shot. Now don’t pant, breathe deep.” The steady voice was soothing, but demanded compliance.

  Abandoning the short blows vaguely reminiscent of those she’d seen in movie birthing rooms, Tori obeyed, inhaling until she felt dizzy then letting the air whoosh out. Those hands had displaced hers on her calf, and she felt a moment of panic trying to remember whether she’d shaved her legs that morning. She winced at the thought of stubbly legs then realized that her side stitch was almost gone and the cramp was easing.

  “Does that hurt?”

  “No, feels good.” A little too good. The man had great hands, and Tori was starting to get some ideas about other kind of exertion he could help her with.

  “You winced.”

  Great hands and observant. Tori started to uncurl herself bit by bit, ready to coil back up at the first sign of pain.

  “That’s it, hon. Here, stretch your other leg out for me.” He slid his hand along the back of her uninjured leg, encouraging her to ease it out straight, making her think again about the shaving bit. Yes, she realized with relief—she must be freshly shaved, else she wouldn’t have worn shorts. She knew herself that well at least.

  Once in a regular sitting position, she finally got a look at her Good Samaritan, and almost felt herself seize up again.

  Guh.

  Tori was in the presence of perfection. It was as if all the women in the world had got together and held a summit to design the most gorgeous man possible, then gave him great hands and sent him out to rescue damsels in distress.

  Warm hazel eyes set off by irritatingly long lashes smiled encouragingly at her, so close that every blink looked as if it was in slow motion. Ruggedly handsome features, smooth skin, luscious lips—and that was just his face. His short dark hair had a hint of wave to it, settling perfectly in place even while exercising.

  He had to be a model. Or he should be. Him on anything would equal sales through the roof.

  His muscular arms were revealed by a sleeveless gray T-shirt, which was rather restrained of him—most of the similarly buffed young guys who had passed her running today went shirtless altogether. It was loose enough that Tori couldn’t get an idea of his torso, but she just knew he’d be ripped. Wouldn’t match the rest of him otherwise, and that would be a shame. His running shorts were also on the conservative side compared to what she’d seen, but the legs kneeling between hers were…

  Between hers?

  Oh mercy. She had a man between her legs. Did that count?

  Nope, gotta be full-on sex to cross it off the list.

  Her gaze snapped back up to his, and his helpfully concerned expression hadn’t changed, precisely. But there was a hint of awareness there now that made Tori wish she was ten years younger. Or maybe fifteen.

  Because if he was closer to thirty than twenty, she’d eat her running shoes. />
  He introduced himself, “I’m Adam.”

  I’m Eve, wanna bite my apple?

  Tori cleared her throat, all too aware of his crouching form well within her most personal space. “Tori. Thanks for the help.”

  He smiled broadly. Perfect teeth too. “My pleasure. You know, it’ll help if you walk for a bit. You need to keep moving to really work it out.” He rocked back and stood in one fluid motion, then held his hands down to her.

  Conscious of her sweaty palms, she swiped them down the front of her T-shirt before taking his hands. His eyes dropped to watch their path over her abdomen. Or was he staring at her breasts?

  Tori couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so close to any man. That was just sad. And the proximity was wreaking havoc with her inner equilibrium. So much so that when she finally got to her feet, she kind of overbalanced and kept going, smacking head first right into the broad chest in front of her.

  “Crap! I mean… Oh, just shoot me now,” Tori muttered, trying to simultaneously balance herself, extricate her hands from his and control her libido. Not the kind of multi-tasking she was used to…and it showed.

  After she finally succeeded in getting her hands free, he brought his up to steady her by the upper arms.

  “Got it?”

  That was just wrong on so many levels. But Tori knew what he meant. “I’m fine,” she declared. Wow, even really sounded like she meant it.

  “Okay, good. Ready to walk?”

  He settled her hand in the crook of his arm, for all the world as if he was going to escort her to tea, or down the aisle, and she dug in her heels.

  “Uh, just said I’m fine. Don’t want to keep you from your run.” She firmly separated from…him. Hadn’t he told her his name already? Jeez, she just hated how she could never remember people’s names. She swallowed her pride and asked quickly, “What’s your name again?”

  The smile that never seemed far from his lips deepened, and she added lickable dimples to his staggering plus column. Too bad he was so freaking young—the only negatory thus far—otherwise he’d be perfect for item two on her Sabbatical Must-Do List—‘Have smoking hot, no-strings-attached sex’.

  Not just any sex—the best sex of her life.

  “Still Adam. And you’re…”

  “Running late.” The lie popped out before she could rein it in. And duh, how could she have forgotten that? She was Eve to his Adam. Eve, Adam. Adam. Adam. God, she had a bad memory for stuff like that.

  “Running late? I was going to say Tori. Is that a pun?”

  Huh? Oh yeah—running…

  Tori snickered, appreciating his humor. “No, but you’re right. That is pretty funny. And actually I fibbed. I don’t have anywhere I need to be.” He must think I’m a complete moron. “I just don’t want to waste any more of your time.”

  Adam turned and smoothly took her arm again, urging her into motion by his side. That one point of contact radiated happy tingles straight to every erogenous zone she possessed. She shivered.

  “Why would you think you’re wasting my time, Ms…?”

  Caught off guard by the question, Tori automatically filled in the implied blank. “Warren. Tori Warren.” Tori shot Alex an admiring glance. “That was pretty slick. Distract me with sex and cryptic questions and get the info you’re looking for. Very double-oh-seven of you.”

  His eyebrows had shot upwards when she’d said ‘sex’. A bit satisfied she’d managed to surprise him, she finally relented and walked willingly at his side.

  “Sorry, but you must realize you’re a disgustingly hot guy.”

  His hand dropped from her elbow. Mourning the loss of contact, Tori was still amused when Adam cleared his throat and a flush crept up his neck. Oops. The connection between her brain and her mouth had never had much of a time lag for editing purposes. Which was why she spent most of her time buried in the bowels of research facilities instead of interacting with real, live people.

  “Sorry again. They don’t let me out much.”

  “Is that why you were running? Did you pull off an escape?”

  Laughter bubbled up and she went with it, feeling fantastic as she let it loose. By now her heart rate had come back down to normal, and they were almost at the intersection of the street by the java shop she loved.

  The hell with running for today. “Do you want to grab a coffee or something?” she invited impulsively, trying not to care either way about his response.

  “Sure.” The low tone of his voice was still doing its nasty stirring thing way down inside, and she repressed an insane and reckless urge to suggest bypassing the coffee shop in favor of her condo.

  Tori forcibly reminded herself of her list. The three major things that would make this forced sabbatical worthwhile. She’d vowed everything she did for the next three months would further one of the three goals she’d set for herself—get into the best shape of her life before it was too late, have a no-strings ‘holiday’ affair and the best sex of her life and do new things and have fun, treating this like a vacation at home.

  Numbers. Hypotheses. Hard facts. Data. Goals. She always did well with those. Anything unplanned was hard for her to deal with. She had definitely not counted on meeting such a great guy, who seemed to have some sort of interest in her, when she’d decided to start exercising again today. But she couldn’t just ignore her luck. Time to find out just how young was young. If he really was closer to thirty than twenty, she’d go for it. Early twenties, she’d pat him on his darling head and send him safely on his way.

  “How old are you?”

  He didn’t even look surprised at the question as he continued to meet her gaze. Oh, to have that kind of self-confidence. “Twenty-five,” he answered.

  He just had to split the difference and make this difficult.

  Figures. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

  * * * *

  Adam watched Tori return from the counter with the drinks she had insisted upon paying for. She was already enchantingly kooky—he couldn’t wait to see what happened when the extra shot and all the sugar kicked in.

  A bit of pink tongue was caught firmly between her lips as she maneuvered amongst the tables with a set look of concentration on her face. There was something sweet and stunningly sexy about her, and her outspoken quirkiness had him hooked.

  Adam had been running on autopilot when he’d seen her cramp up and without hesitation had gone to her rescue. His background as a trainer and sports physiologist, and years of working with the public, had made it easy to peg her as a novice runner who had probably just plunged right into her workout without warming up, something he would have to help her avoid in the future.

  He pondered that startling thought for a moment. Yes, he acknowledged, he wanted to see more of Tori.

  A lot more.

  Her question earlier about his age had Adam revising her own upwards a bit. Women in their twenties or even early thirties wouldn’t be concerned with that sort of detail, at least not from the get-go. So he figured her to be at around her mid-thirties, although she hardly looked it. She had an innocent, slightly absent look about her he guessed would have many casual observers dismissing her as a young airhead. But Adam could sense the offbeat, random questions were most likely a sign of a very active mind at work.

  She made it safely back to Adam and set the drinks down on the low table with a relieved smile. “Great table, thanks for snagging it.”

  The best part was that it was a loveseat all the way in the back of the café, which afforded them some privacy. She sat squarely in the middle of her cushion, and Adam let his leg loll over into neutral territory, prompting a raised eyebrow.

  “So what do you do when you’re not out running?” he asked lightly. He was surprised at the scowl his question caused. A cute little line deepened between her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

  Tori sighed. “Oh, nothing. My career is just a sore spot with me right now.”

  Adam grimaced inwardl
y. Oops. With the current economy, maybe making small talk about occupations wasn’t the brightest idea. “Were you laid off?” he asked sympathetically.

  A surprised look crossed her face—her mouth making an ‘O’. “Oh. No, nothing like that. I’ve been pretty lucky.” She picked up her mug and sipped from it. “I’ve been working for a pharmaceutical research company for the past, um…” She paused, glancing up at him, and cleared her throat. “Well, a long time. And one of the company perks for my division is that you get a paid sabbatical every five years. Mine have piled up.” She shrugged casually, but her frustration was evident. “So I kind of had to take one.”

  Adam laughed at the disgruntled look. “They made you take a sabbatical against your will?” An image popped into his head of Secret Service-looking men in suits and dark glasses, their arms crossed, refusing her entry into her office. “So you’re here on vacation?”

  She looked a bit sheepish. “Well, no. I live near here.”

  Adam tried to puzzle out the reason for her hesitation. “So are you going anywhere exciting? How long is your sabbatical?”

  “Three months. And no, I didn’t plan anything.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I’m just going to hang around here.”

  He leaned closer until he could almost see himself reflected in her amber eyes. “Why?” She had a face he could read like a book even on short acquaintance, and she was definitely hiding something.

  “Why what?” she evaded.

  “Why didn’t you plan anything?”

  Her lips compressed, and suddenly she burst out, “Because I didn’t think they’d actually do it! Okay? They locked me out, revoked my codes. I can’t even get into my own lab or office, much less access my work online. I still can’t believe it.” She hopped to her feet, and for a moment, Adam thought she was going to storm out, but she only walked over to the caddy and grabbed some napkins before coming back. Throwing all but one down on the table, she started methodically shredding one into long strips.

  “Mental health break. Ha! Said I’d reached ‘maximum capacity’ when I accrued my fourth sabbatical, and I hadn’t used vacation time in years and… Oh shit, well, I guess you just figured out how old I am.” She threw him a disgusted look that Adam had a hard time keeping a straight face through. “They actually locked me out! For my ‘own good’, what a crock!” she fumed.

 

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