by Lyric James
Back to Basics
Beach House Nights, Book #4
Lyric James
Back to Basics
Copyright 2014 Lyric James
Electronic Publication January 2014
[email protected]
http://www.lyricjamesbooks.net
Cover Art by Sasha White of Gypsy Style
Professional Editing Services by Devin Govaere
Proofreading Services by Sharon Muha
Formatting Services by IRONHORSE Formatting
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above author of this book.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Back to Basics
Beach House Nights, Book #4
Harper Coleman learned the hard way to never let a man control her.
For the past three years the Miami chef has thrown her heart and soul into her café. But when she’s invited to a friend’s beach house for the weekend, she finds a little R&R is just what the doctor ordered. But how’s Harper supposed to get the rest she so desperately needs with sinfully sexy Blake Nelson throwing grease onto her already simmering lust?
Harper’s sassy charm hooked Blake Nelson the minute he tasted her famous homemade brownies. This weekend is his chance to get close to the beautiful and sexy woman who creates masterpieces with her hands. Blake might not be able to whip up a culinary dish fit for consumption, but he’s cooking up a challenge she won’t be able to resist.
As their sizzling competition flames into a feast for the senses, will going back to the basics be their final course for disaster…or love?
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Lover’s Revenge
Something Wet
Up All Night
About The Author
Find Lyric On The Web
Chapter One
Harper Coleman watched Ian Hollis’s retreating back then slid her gaze to the one man in the world who always sent her heart rate to boiling, Blake Nelson. “You’re just as bad as he is,” she said, pointing a spatula at him. “Probably worse.”
He leaned back in his chair and gave her a sexy grin, stealing her breath. “You’ll never know how bad or good I am until you try me out for yourself, Princess.”
The raw cadence of his voice slid over her skin and made it prickle.
For goodness’ sakes.
She was supposed to be relaxing, enjoying the first weekend she’d taken off in months from her gourmet café. But every time she turned around, he was there. Tormenting her, teasing her, making her want things, do things she normally wouldn’t do.
She decided to ignore his sly sexual comment. “Why is it so hard to get a man to eat a healthy meal? He’s complaining now, but I bet every piece of fruit and vegetable I put on that tray will be gone when he brings it back down later.”
Blake took a leftover white seedless grape from the assortment of finger foods she’d made for Ian and her friend Stella and popped it into this mouth. “When you invited us to the beach house this weekend, Dayna, I didn’t know we were going to be required to eat from each of the five major food groups.”
Dayna, one of her best friends, who inherited this gorgeous house from her grandmother after she passed away, grinned at him and casually leaned against Jared, another friend who came for the weekend. “Hey, that’s between you and the gourmet chef. As long as I’m not cooking, I’ll eat whatever Harper puts in front of me.”
It looked like Dayna and Jared were finally going to become a couple, but she sure as hell didn’t know she would spend the entire weekend being borderline seduced by the sinfully sexy man in front of her either. But she wouldn’t dare tell him that. Being around Blake tied her stomach in knots. Plus, she’d overheard talk among their mutual friends a year or so ago that he was into kinky, and he’d joined one of the most exclusive clubs in Miami, a fantasy sex club called Twine.
If the rumors about that club were true, there was no way in hell she’d try Blake Nelson.
Harper read kinky…she didn’t do kinky.
Blake Nelson was six-feet-one of hard-packed muscle and dark, dangerous good looks with a sarcastic attitude that drove her nuts. The one time he’d stolen a kiss from her, she’d equated his lips to wicked instruments of torturous pleasure that left her quaking in her sensible shoes.
“We will see you two later,” Jared said, and he and Dayna walked out of the kitchen.
Damn.
She turned around and began to wash the dishes, talking to the wall in front of her.
“It wouldn’t kill you to eat more of that fruit.”
No one had ever kissed her the way Blake had, which was the reason she didn’t want to be alone with him. Just the mere coast of his tongue around her mouth made her want to do anything he asked. The control she fought so hard to maintain since moving out of her parents’ house perilously slipped away whenever he came around her.
“You’re probably right. But most of the places where I eat don’t serve fruit.”
Harper grumbled and turned around. “Do you even use the oven in your house? The refrigerator?”
He flashed a cocky grin before he took a swig of his beer. She couldn’t help but notice the way his mouth slid over the rim of the bottle, the way his throat constricted when he swallowed. Her body began to heat up, and her thighs trembled with tension. She took an agonizingly slow moment to take in his broad shoulders, rippling biceps.
Dangerous.
That’s what he was and the reason she never allowed herself to be around him alone. Every time she got near him, her body surged with need.
Harper would not be fooled by a handsome face.
Oh no.
She wouldn’t be controlled and ordered about like her mother. Plus, any man who belonged to a fantasy sex club was perilous to her well-structured life. There would be too much unpredictability.
“No and yes.” His voice was a low rumble and sexy as hell, like everything else about him.
“You probably only have beer and wine in your fridge.”
Blake splayed his hands in the air. “Hey, I have to have something for the guys to drink when they come over.”
And the women too.
The ten long and perfect digits attached to his palms were probably magic on a woman’s skin.
She had to admit the first time she’d heard he was a member of Twine her libido shot up a notch or two. It meant he had to be a master, of what she could only speculate, but imagining Blake with the ability to fulfill any fantasy she’d ever thought about from one of her favorite romance books or the romantic comedies she watched on television twisted her up in knots…sexually kinky knots.
“What about the stove?” Harper asked. She needed to get her mind back on food and off of him. “Can you at least cook yourself breakfast in the
morning?”
Blake took one last swig of his beer, stood, and dropped his bottle in the recyclable trash before moving to the cooler to retrieve another. “Why should I when IHOP does it so well?”
Instead of sitting back down, he moved around the island to stand beside her as she put the rest of the dishes away. Harper inhaled. The scent was clean male, ocean, and sand. It made her shivery on the outside, hot on the inside, and completely fried her senses.
She took two steps away and pretended to wipe down the counter she’d already cleaned five minutes ago. “You built that beautiful house and designed that gourmet kitchen, and you don’t even use it.”
Blake was a jack-of-all-trades: builder, contractor, plumber, electrician…everything. If you wanted it, he could build it. From a birdhouse to a mansion and anything in between, whatever you dreamed up, he could make it happen.
A couple of years ago he’d constructed one of the most beautiful homes she’d ever seen with a to-die-for gourmet kitchen. When he was designing it, he’d called her almost daily to get her opinion. “I’d be in heaven everyday if I had a kitchen like that to come home to, and you’re wasting it.”
Blake moved closer, prowled was more like it, and trapped her between his arms against the granite countertop. The soft thunk of the beer bottle on the counter sounded like a cannon in her ears. “Teach me then,” he posed.
The sly look he always wore was gone. His gaze was hot and burned right through her. Harper had the distinct feeling if she succumbed to the charms of Blake Nelson, she’d become the student instead of the teacher and the things she’d learn…oh boy.
She didn’t even want to think about it.
If he was a card-carrying member of Twine, there was nothing she could teach him. But he could educate her for sure. Immediately, a scene from one of her favorite movies materialized in her mind as vivid as a photograph.
In the movie, the couple had been out on a date, and as they were standing at her door at the end of the evening, the hero told her he should be a gentleman and leave, but the heroine told him they were lucky she wasn’t a gentleman. The next thing you knew, they were crashing through her front door ripping each other’s clothes off. Never making it to the bedroom, they ended up on top of the island in her kitchen, a lot like the island she was propped up against right now.
It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen in her life, and for some reason, it was her favorite part of the movie.
What would it be like to cause a man to lose control like that, make him want her so badly he took her right where they stood? What would it feel like to be so uninhibited you wanted a man to do all kinds of wicked things to you?
What if that man was Blake?
He leaned down and nuzzled her neck, his breath warm against her ear. “Teach me to cook something in that beautiful kitchen I’m wasting.”
When he trailed a finger along her cheek, it sent a lovely shiver through her core. Her pulse raced, hot and fast. She should push him away, but heaven help her, he felt so good pressed against her, all hard muscle and utterly divine sexiness.
What would it feel like to lose control with Blake?
Harper wanted him so much her nipples hurt. She tried to wiggle out of his embrace, but he wouldn’t budge, invading her personal space like a well-worn coat. “Blake. Stop playing.”
Why did her voice sound like a whimper?
He took a step back, and his distance left her bereft, shaken.
The Blake Nelson she wanted only existed in her fantasies, and she needed to keep reminding herself of this fact. The secret thrill of knowing he belonged to Twine stopped in her dreams. She couldn’t allow those fantasies to trickle over into real life.
“I never play, Harper.”
Staring up into his eyes, she knew he wasn’t talking about food or cooking. Something lingered in those black depths. She wanted to ask…really wanted to know…but the answer he’d probably give her would be something she couldn’t even begin to understand.
“I’m sure there’s something simple you can teach me how to cook.” He moved to the refrigerator and pulled it open.
Harper’s gaze slid down his frame. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him this casual before. In a pair of khaki cut-offs, a white button-down shirt, and tan boat shoes, he looked like he was about to step aboard a cruise ship.
All the bending and lifting he did certainly filled out his calf muscles.
Stop, Harper. Stop.
“You mentioned breakfast. What about eggs?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at her.
She glanced down at her blue halter and white-and-blue plaid skirt. Even though she wasn’t trying to impress him, her outfit looked cute. But was it sexy?
Not.
“Take me back to the basics.” He pulled out a carton of large eggs and set it on the counter. “Teach me how to make an omelet.”
Spending more time with Blake was not something she wanted to do, especially in the kitchen. If she taught him how to cook, she would forever equate food with sex. Her clit already pulsed with so much need she had to mentally resist squirming in her panties for some semblance of relief. She moved and put the island between them, hopping onto one of the bar stools and folding her hands in her lap. “Why should I waste my time teaching you how to do something you’ll never do again?”
He came forward, directly across from her, and placed his elbows on the counter, steepling his fingers. “Don’t tell me the big-time chef can’t teach a lowly civilian like me how to whip up an egg?”
She shook her head. “No. That’s not it at all. I could teach you how to cook anything. But again, why waste my time? The only appliance getting regular use in your house is the microwave.”
And his bed.
Don’t go there.
Why did I go there?
Now, all she envisioned were their legs intertwined in his huge bed. And no matter what she did to keep her distance, he kept closing it. He walked around the island, came up behind her and twisted the barstool around. “You up for a challenge?”
Chapter Two
“I’m always up for a challenge,” Harper quipped but immediately wished she’d kept her mouth zipped shut. Playing any type of game with Blake was suicide to her libido. Didn’t he just tell her he didn’t play games?
“Teach me how to make an omelet.” His voice lowered an octave. “And in return, I’ll fulfill any fantasy or desire you wish this weekend.”
Oh God.
He trapped her with his big, muscular arms again, but instead of feeling caged in, she felt…safe. Lowering his head, he teased her neck with the tip of his nose. “I could give you a massage, cook you breakfast in bed…or…something else. Whatever you desire, Princess,” he said as he came back up and trailed a finger just below her bottom lip. “Your wish would be my command.”
Was he a mind reader? Were the fantasies traveling through her brain out there on display, plastered across her forehead for all the world to see?
This was exactly what she was trying to avoid.
Now she wanted Blake to whip her like an egg. He made breakfast food sound like sex on a sinfully delicious platter. Already she imagined him slipping out of her bed upstairs, bringing her breakfast, and joining her for a whole lot more. She came off the stool and moved around him, going to the refrigerator to see what she could add to an omelet besides cheese.
“That won’t be necessary.” No way was she falling for that. “Just knowing you’ll use your kitchen after we’re done is good enough for me.”
Harper found mushrooms, onions, bacon, and ham. “Perfect. She turned around to ask him if he liked mushrooms, but her question seized in her throat, and she released a small gasp.
Blake had followed her and was now standing in front of her, enclosing both of their bodies in the opening of the door.
Why does he keep doing that?
“Are you sure?”
He moved in closer, until his lush, masculine mouth was only inch
es from hers. A slight rush of air whispered over her skin, and she immediately knew what every muscle in her body wanted to do, especially her lips.
If she tilted her head the tiniest bit, she could kiss him.
“What’s the matter, Princess? Are you scared? It’s okay to admit it. Every woman has fantasies. I’m sure there’s one or two of yours I could and would be more than happy to fulfill.”
Deny.
Deny.
Deny.
She clutched the items to her chest, the coolness only registering against her skin because she’d become so overheated. “I’m not afraid of you, Blake Nelson.”
Why did her voice have that breathy undertone?
Get a grip.
“And I don’t have any fantasies I want you to make happen.”
I am so going to hell.
His gaze slid down to her lips, and when he spoke, it was as soft as a whisper. “Hmm…I’m not so sure.”
Harper half-heartedly elbowed him out of the way and dropped her items on the counter, hoping the sound masked the wild thump of her heart. “An omelet should always be cooked in a nonstick sauté pan like this one,” she said, grabbing one out of a lower cabinet and turning around. Even though her pulse beat a million beats a second, she would not let Blake see how much he was getting to her.
She placed it on a burner on the stove. “What I want you to do is grab one of those glass mixing bowls over there, crack two eggs, and whip them until they are a nice pale yellow.”
Blake moved around her, grabbed the items she told him to, and did as she asked, thank goodness. Cooking was the one thing in her life she knew she could do with no problems. She could do it blindfolded if she had to. She had absolute control over the meal, what went into it and how it turned out. Cooking was her solace. It was the one thing in her life that had given her peace away from all the chaos in her life when she was a child.
