There was no mistake that they were plainly attracted to one another physically. And she wanted nothing more than to sample what she'd imagined of his kiss. As though reading her mind, he held her gaze as he lowered his face to hers.
Nibbling softly at first, he coaxed her into lifting her mouth to his. She had to stand on tip-toe to reach him while her hands braced herself on his shoulders.
"Hum, let's try this."
He lifted her to the stool and turned to search the shelves laden with flavored syrups beside them. Taking the one labeled pina' colada, he wiggled his brows and squirted some on his finger and held it up for her to sample.
Jen took his hand, steadying his wrist as she closed her mouth over the tip, her tongue darted cautiously licking off the syrupy sweetness. She held his gaze as she pulled her lips over his finger.
"My turn." Jen chose the passion fruit syrup and squeezed a bit on her finger. Grinning, she brushed it like lipgloss over her lips, and trailed her finger down her throat, to the valley between her breasts.
A deep-throated moan emitted from him as he captured her mouth, feasting on her lips in frenzied pleasure. He slid the straps of her skinny tank top over her shoulders freeing her breasts as he pressed her against the counter, using his tongue to drive her pulse to a near explosive state.
"God I never knew this could be such fun. You're definitely the first to ever use sex as a deterrent." He kissed her again, his intent of giving and getting more becoming increasingly evident. Jens fantasy of a quickie in the shack spurred her to grab a fistful of his hair and dive deeper into his kiss.
His hand slid up under her thin cotton shirt and he grinned against her mouth as he cupped her, squeezing, catching her pink nub between his thumb and forefinger. A violent current sped through her, exploding between her legs and instinctively she parted her knees.
"This is getting to the next level, Jen. Tell me now if you want me to stop, because I can't guarantee that in a few moments I'll think to ask again."
He held his forehead to hers, his gaze hot with more desire than she'd ever seen in a man. "I've never been challenged like this, and certainly not by a woman before." He held her face between his hands. "What do you say, Jen? I'm not much a nooner type guy, but you're driving me crazy here. See for yourself."
He grabbed her hand and guided her to his rock hard erection straining against his pants.
The heat their bodies generated in the small confines of the hut clouded her judgment. Tropical heat, the look in his eyes as she stroked him, threw all of her good intentions right out the window.
"Do you have protection?" She couldn’t believe that she was asking this of a near stranger at midday.
He pulled out his wallet and held up the bright gold foil packet.
His gaze locked to hers, he shimmied from his shorts, pushing off his flip-flops as he sheathed himself.
Delighted that he was every bit and more as beautiful as she'd imagined, she grinned as she wiggled from her thong and drew her denim mini skirt up around her waist. She felt deliciously decadent, a bit naughty, but in full control of her choices this time.
If she wanted a nooner, it would be because she wanted one. Oh, and god did she desperately want one with him.
He pulled her from the stool and they danced around each other, mouths clinging in heated anticipation to one another as he sat down. Jen placed her barefoot on the bottom rung of the barstool and lifted her leg over his lap as though mounting a horse.
Holding his gaze, she balanced her palms on his shoulders as she eased onto his rigid member.
His breath caught and he grinned as he filled her completely. Already she was wet and heavy with wanting him. "Wow."
"Yeah, wow," he whispered. He held his arms around her, drawing her close to his chest as he gently kissed her shoulder. Their bodies aligned perfectly.
"You're incredible." He kissed her again, slower this time, making love to her mouth. Sweet, tormenting strokes left her breathless, his hands masterfully caressed her bottom, his fingers teasing where their bodies fused.
She moved slow, grinding against him aware of the sweat trickling between her breasts. His skin, warm and moist beneath her palms, glistened in the heat. A droplet of sweat skimmed down his temple as his stormy eyes, blazing with fire, held her gaze.
There was a familiarity in his gaze; something that she couldn’t quiet put her finger on, though his were managing to do a lovely job on her. Maybe part of her wanted to believe this was more than sex.
Back and forth she slowly rocked against him, heat surrounded them inside and out. Steady rhythm gave way to a fevered insistence, his hands grasped her waist, holding her firm on his lap, until she thought she would burst in a million particles of delight.
He grabbed her bottom, capturing her mouth with such ferocity that she had to hold on to the countertop either side of her to keep her balance. His flesh slapped hard against the sleek lacquer of the barstool as he pumped into her furiously. With a final thrust, he grasped her face and kissed her hard, together toppling over into a cataclysmic orgasm. Bottles of syrup followed diving off the shelves in the wake of their shattering bliss.
At least neither one of them had screamed.
Not that she hadn't thought of it.
Jen rested her forehead to his muscular shoulder steadying her breathing. She knew that the safety she felt right now with his arms holding her in tight embrace was only temporary. But what a wonder to believe that someday she could wake up to such a man—
"Are you okay?"
His voice was laced with sincerity as he lifted her chin to his gaze.
"You need to know that I've never had this experience before." His eyes glittered still with passion. "You certainly make the warm-up to a croquet game a memorable experience."
Jen blinked as she drew from his lap. "What are you talking about?"
At first glance, she almost believed that he was sincere in what he'd said. He at least had the good manners to look confused.
As was she.
"Croquet?"
His brow furrowed as he handed her the tank top that somehow had gotten over her head in the passion.
"Isn't that what we've been talking about for the past two days? Didn't you challenge me to a croquet game?"
Jen thought she might pass out.
He reached out and held her upright. :"Jen, I asked you to tell me if you weren't ready."
She nodded, tugging down her skirt over her exposed buttocks.
"I can't believe it. All this time, I thought you were flirting with me, leading me on. I thought you wanted a quickie nooner." She felt the heat rise in her face as she struggled with her bra closure. Quickly she adjusted her tank top and closed her eyes when her gaze landed on his lap. She'd been there moments before believing that he'd been planning this rendezvous for two days.
Jen felt sick to her stomach. "I don't even know your name."
He glanced at the floor in a move that clearly meant he wanted to avert the subject. "Look Jen, I can tell you that I didn't plan for this to happen. Sure, I thought—and still do think—you're gorgeous. But I see more than that. And I'd like us to explore what that initial attraction might lead to."
"You know I've discovered that most men only what one thing and that’s to get into a woman's pants."
He shook his head. "Get real Jen, when I asked, you wanted to get into mine just as much, so don't go making this a dirty thing. What we had was absolutely incredible. It wouldn't have been this good unless there was something behind it wanting more." He cocked his brow. "And you indicated that you were looking for more. Are you the one just giving out the lines now? Did you just use me as a plaything?"
Embarrassed that she'd read the whole scenario wrong and that once again she was out of control, she spun on her heel and slammed open the door.
"Lock up after you leave. And you better hope the boss doesn’t find out about this, or it will cost me a lot more than just this summer job."
/> Fortunately, a cold front moved through and the shack remained closed for the next couple of days. It gave her time to pull together her presentation of the board of directors at the resort for the head chef position opening up for the next year.
~*~
Dressed stylish but practical, she strode into the kitchen where she was slated to prepare her Cedar plank Grilled Salmon filet. A sure hit at a place like this. Taking her time, she placed her cards on the stainless steel countertop and reached back grabbing a starched white chef's jacket and slid her arms into it.
Only two of the resort directors had shown, both leaning in to whisper to one another as they sipped there lattes.
Jen scanned the information on her cards, her gaze studying the shelf at her side filled with the necessary preparations for the delectable flakey fish entrée. The interview indicated that not only would she be judged on taste and presentation, of her product, but also in her efficiency and technique in preparation. Nothing but the best for the new boss and his staff, she guessed.
Jen kept her chin held high as another director entered the kitchen. They sat across from her on barstools at the breakfast counter. Each bringing a clipboard and evaluation form with them.
"Good morning staff—good morning…"
The familiar voice cut off the air to her lungs.
"Jennifer Delight?" His voice tilted as though not quite sure of her last name. Granted she'd never told him.
His sea-foam eyes met hers and her mouth dropped open.
One of the older directors peered at her. "Are you quite all right my dear? Do you need a glass of water?"
Jen blinked as her sno-shack stud muffin took his place at the counter. He sat down and rubbed his hand over his mouth, looking as perplexed as she felt.
"Have you two met yet?" The older woman asked, her gaze bouncing back and forth between them.
"I don't believe so officially."
His voice was quiet and she saw his chest fall and rise a he breathed deep.
"Well then, Jennifer comes to us as a long time summer employee. Through college she served in several areas of the resort and has graciously this year offered to man the Snack Shack until we can find a suitable replacement. However, since graduating from Utah's cooking school she's indicated that this was one place that was at the top of her list for great cuisine. Jennifer Delight is a name she uses for publicity's sake—it's really Roberts."
The woman turned her attention to Jen. "And Jennifer, this is Mr. Nick Lance. He's just invested in our little spot of heaven and has big plans, especially as to the expansion of making The Trade Winds a Mecca four-star restaurant." She grinned as the three other board members responded with applause.
Jen was going to be sick. How could she possibly go through with her presentation now?
"Excuse me; I'm not sure I'm completely prepared for this." She turned to escape through the shiny sliver kitchen door.
"Ms. Roberts—Jen, please may I have a word with you?"
Her hand splayed against the door. All she had to do was push and it would open to another path, another dream she could find that would replace this one.
Nick tugged at her arm, pulling her into the alcove leading to a walk-in pantry.
"Listen, you can't walk out like this. If this is what you want, then don't let anything stand in your way. Not me or what happened between us. If this is your dream, then go for it, Jen. I swear I didn’t know were an interviewee for this job until five minutes ago when I walked in here."
"But you knew I was an employee. I could claim sexual harassment."
He dropped his hand from her arm. "That’s true, I admit it, but I also thought that you were a mature woman who wanted me as much as I wanted you. I can't tell you what to do and I would be lying if I said I wouldn’t love the chance for us to see where a relationship could go between us. We apparently already have some things in common, Jen. I think if you give it a chance, we might find a lot more."
He looked far different in a summer suit and tie. Successful and his own person. Surely he didn’t need her to lean on, but maybe he actually saw her the same way she saw him. An equal—a partner, it had definite possibility.
"Okay, but we take things slow from here. I'm ready for stability, Nick. I'm done playing games with guys, only to be dumped when they get what they want."
He grinned and held out his hand. "I like a lady who respects her choices and expects more from a man. We can take all the time we need, because I have no plans of letting the best thing I've ever known get away from me."
"But what if you don't like my cooking?"
Nick laughed. "There are always those exotic concoctions in the snack shack."
His grin sent shivers up her spine, but she punched his shoulder.
"You just try not to like my mouth-watering cuisine Mr. Lance. I dare you." She pointed her index finger at him.
"I do love your challenges." He laughed as he dodged her swipe with her apron.
~*~
Jen studied the cover of Travel Magazines award-winning choices for vacations and grinned.
"You reading Cosmo again?"
The familiar voice, she knew like the back of her hand made her look up. Her husband looked ready for the day. Her shift of overseeing the cooks in the resort kitchen was not for another hour.
"We made the cover of Travel Magazine, my love." She held up the magazine with a bright smile. In the two years since they'd married, together they'd managed to make all of their dreams and then some a reality. The Trade Winds was one of the premiere Four Star Resorts in the country.
"We should celebrate." His gaze held hers, passion glinting in his gaze. "How about you meet me for a mango stripper after work?"
"You think the boss will mind?" She grinned, enjoying the fact that they'd gone into partnership professionally as well as personally. They ignored the nay sayer's and enjoyed every moment together.
He laughed, "I'll be sure to see what I can get out of her tonight on that subject."
"Is that a challenge?" She tipped her head in query.
"You bet it is." He grinned.
Too Hot To Handle Page 2
