Under Her Clothes

by Louisa Edwards

  “That’s right.” It suddenly felt hotter in the closet, close and dark and warm.

  “And yet,” Colby said, uncoiling his slender legs and sliding off his seat until his knees hit the floor with a thud Dominic felt more than heard. Dom’s prick gave an interested twitch. “You haven’t been satisfied. Why would that be, I wonder?”

  Dominic stared down at him and tried to remember how to breathe. This was every midnight fantasy he’d tried to forget in the harsh light of morning. The image of Colby on his knees in front of him was the image he’d had in mind since the first moment they met and he wondered how that cocky grin would look stretched around his thick, hard cock.

  “Maybe I was missing something,” he growled, closing the distance between them until he could feel the excited pants of Colby’s breath, hot and moist through the layers of cloth that separated them.

  “You know my name,” Colby pointed out. “You’ve let me in, told me your secrets. Maybe it doesn’t matter whether I’m a man or a woman, after all that. Maybe what matters is that you’re tired of ‘easy.’”

  Eyes full of hope, Colby flirted up at Dom through eyelashes so long and thick they belonged on a girl. Dom lost it.

  Spearing his right hand into Colby’s hair, he savored the slip of silk through his fingers before tightening his grip. He watched Colby for any hint that this wasn’t what he wanted, but all he saw on Colby’s face was honest hunger. When Dom flexed his fingers, urging Colby closer, that smart, wicked, perfect mouth fell open on a moan that vibrated straight to Dom’s balls.

  “You’re right.” Dom felt it surge through him, power and control and desire and the bright, sharp snap of connection. “I’m ready to let someone get close.”

  Colby’s eager hands went to Dom’s hips, his strong grasp tugging him in so Colby could bend forward and nuzzle his face into the straining crotch of Dom’s trousers. Nimble fingers undid the buttons holding the pants closed and spread the placket while Dom swore and groped for the wall with his left hand.

  His right hand was still buried in Colby’s golden hair, the strip that was longer on the top of his head, punky and rebellious and maddening. Dom could feel the delicate shape of Colby’s skull under his knuckles, every move of Colby’s head as he mouthed wetly at the tented cotton, sending pulses of teasing pleasure through Dom’s hard-on.

  The sight of Colby on his knees, the pink flicker of his tongue, the sly peek of blue up through the fringe of hair falling over his forehead below Dom’s fist—Dom had to plant his feet shoulder-width apart and brace himself against a wire rack holding extra cleaning supplies to keep from sinking to the floor.

  He wasn’t going anywhere. There was no way he’d miss a second of this.

  Colby’s fingers were eager and sure as they arranged Dom’s open pants. He tugged the elastic waist of Dom’s boxer briefs down below the head of his cock where it stood firm and tight against his belly. Cold air caressed him where the tender, wet tip of his penis emerged from his foreskin, and Colby made a low, desperate noise in the back of his throat.

  The whole world tipped sideways when Colby leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the head of Dom’s dick. Hooking the elastic band under his balls, Colby dove down, licking trails of fire as he went. His head bobbed and Dom bit back a curse at the rub of Colby’s soft palate over his sensitive cock tip.

  Stars sparkled at the edge of Dom’s vision as every ounce of blood drained from the rest of his body and straight into his ramrod erection. He closed his eyes to concentrate on the soft, humming sounds Colby was making, the slip and suck of his mouth, the shock of tightness when he shoved forward and swallowed.

  Nothing had ever felt so good. It had to be because Colby was so hungry for it. Dom had been sucked by lots of people, mostly women, plenty of them skilled. But he’d never felt anything like this. The way Colby wanted it...

  How did he keep up the dancing tongue when his lips were sealed tight so close to the base of Dom’s cock? Dom blinked down at the slim, sturdy body bent between his legs, and his fist tightened unconsciously in Colby’s hair.

  Colby moaned—and it wasn’t a moan of protest. Blue eyes flashed up at him, lips stretched and beautifully obscene, and Colby let his neck go loose so that Dom felt the weight of his control over Colby’s movements.

  Power rushed through him, tightening every muscle and sharpening all his senses. The lines of the wire shelving were crystal clear in his peripheral vision, the dark corners of the small room, the lines between the tiles on the floor—Dom felt the universe stop.

  Or maybe that was just his heart.

  * * *

  Colby waited, breath lodged in her throat and mouth deliciously full. Do it, she thought. Fuck my mouth.

  She wanted to feel it, wanted to see Dominic loosen his grip on the reins and let himself take what he wanted. She wanted to know that right here, in this moment, she was exactly what he wanted...even if he didn’t know exactly who she was.

  Whatever else happened between them, she could give him this. And at the same time, she could take the memory for herself.

  Deliberately relaxing her throat muscles, Colby breathed calm and steady through her nose and savored Dom’s heady, masculine scent. She memorized the clean musk of the skin at the crease of his thigh and the delicious saltiness of his cock. She’d never blown an uncut guy before, and the slide of his foreskin fascinated her. The needy vulnerability of his exposed cock head lit a fire in her belly.

  Colby liked giving head. She liked knowing that even if she was the one on her knees, it was the guy who was at her mercy. But even more than that, she liked the sensation—the heavy weight of a cock on her tongue, the brush at the back of her throat, the solidity of a man’s desire between her swollen, tingling lips. It was all the things she liked best about sex, in a single act.

  In the past, that had always meant setting the pace. She’d never hesitated to kick the ass of any guy who thought it was okay to shove her down toward his crotch, or who had the bad manners to thrust and try to choke her.

  But as she stared up at Dominic’s dark, intense face set in lines of stunned pleasure and hunger, Colby felt every muscle in her body go lax. The urge to surrender, to spread and yield, was as startling as it was inescapable. She didn’t do this. Ever—except Dom was different.

  She trusted him.

  The shockwave of that rolled through her, making everything below her waist clench. She shuddered, lapping at the thick cock in her mouth and staring straight into Dominic’s eyes. The fingers in her hair tightened, and it felt weirdly good. Everything felt good, from the hard floor under her knees to the scratchy fabric of Dominic’s pants under her palms on his lean hips.

  He tugged her forward just as she gripped harder and pulled him in, swallowing hard around the head of his cock. Pulling back until only the head remained in her mouth, Dominic paused for the space of a heartbeat before surging forward again. Colby moaned encouragingly and opened her throat, keeping her lips tight and the suction strong. The feel of him driving into her was incredibly sexy—the only thing sexier was the watchful, protective way Dominic gauged every thrust. Never too hard or too deep, he fed her exactly the right amount of cock.

  She’d thought she wanted him to lose control, but this was even better. With Dominic paying such close attention, she was the one who was able to give it all up.

  Colby wasn’t entirely conscious of the moment when one of her hands dropped from Dominic’s hip to rub at the bulge of rolled-up socks between her legs. Frustrated at the muffled sensation, she whimpered and Dominic groaned. “God, yes. Do it. Touch yourself.”

  A frisson of danger ran over her skin. Did she dare? If he figured out she wasn’t jerking a cock down there...but at the same time, she was pretty sure she’d go crazy if she didn’t get off in the next few minutes.

  Deciding to risk it, s
he shuffled closer on her knees and stuck her hand down the front of her pants. The way the hem of her over-large white chef coat fell over her wrist was hopefully enough to mask her movements. Colby almost didn’t care, because the instant her fingers reached her aching clit, she knew she had to come.

  She sucked air through her nose, spit gathering at the taut corners of her wide open lips as Dominic’s thick cock rode past her lips and nudged the roof of her mouth. He thrust a little harder, as if inspired by the knowledge that Colby was as turned on by this as he was.

  In near silence, they strove together for long, quivering, coiling moments. The tension at the base of Colby’s spine drew tighter as her slick fingers circled and rubbed. Her climax was just out of reach...so close...and then Dominic’s hand let go of her hair and he pulled out of her mouth.

  Colby blinked, set adrift. Her jaw ached and her mouth watered, as wet and empty as her pussy. She stared up at the strange expression on Dominic’s face—stunned amazement mixed with something she had no name for.

  He trailed his fingers down the side of her face, thumb pressing gently at the sore hinges of her jaw, brushing along the seam of her slightly parted lips. His erection, huge and shuddering, bobbed in front of her face. Colby whined a little in her throat, wanting it back. It was perfect, thick and long, and she couldn’t help imagining how it would feel filling her up. Her brain flashed an erotic image of Dominic positioned behind her, his hands on her hips...

  Her ass clenched instinctively, and the tightening of the internal muscles made the three fingers she’d shoved into her pussy feel almost as big as his dick. Colby’s mouth opened on a panting moan, her eyes fluttering shut, and Dominic growled.

  Cupping her jaw, he rested the head of his cock on her bottom lip like a threat or a promise. “You want this?” he teased darkly, painting her lips with the sticky bitter-salt dribbling from the tip.

  Instead of answering, Colby stuck her tongue out, desperate to catch the full flavor. He groaned when she curiously explored the slit, licking up every drop of pre-come. She hummed her pleasure, her gaze tangled with his as her fingers sped up. So close...

  Staring down at her, Dominic swallowed tightly and grated out, “You can have it if you come for me, Colby. Now.”

  The words unlocked something, releasing her from the tension and catapulting her headfirst into the most intense orgasm she could remember. Wave after wave of electric pulses hit her, making her thighs shake and her back arch.

  Dominic’s left hand was there, curving behind her neck to hold her up through the shattering pleasure. And right at the peak, when she thought she might fly apart, the pleasure scattering pieces of her across the floor, Dominic slid his cock back into her mouth.

  It was perfect. His cock anchored her to the world, to this moment, and Colby sucked in long, grateful pulls. Her eyelids fluttered as she felt him go impossibly harder, then came the pulsing of the big vein against her tongue and she went boneless as thick jets of cream hit the back of her throat. Dominic swayed against her, and she leaned into his thighs. This time it was her turn to be the rock.

  Colby swallowed dreamily, pulling back far enough to catch the last few spurts on her tongue, tangy and bitter and unbelievably erotic. She kept him in her mouth until he started to twitch, and she knew he’d gotten too sensitive. Regretfully letting him pull out, Colby shook herself all over like a dog coming out of the water. With a grimace, she withdrew her soaked fingers from her pants, clutching them into a tight fist bunched around the hem of her chef coat.

  Nerves replaced the postorgasmic lassitude. She had to get out of there, before she gave herself away.

  “I need to run downstairs and change out of these clothes before I finish cleaning,” she babbled, staggering backward toward the door. “I’ll be right back up, I swear.”

  “Colby, wait—” He put out his hand to stop her, and Colby panicked.

  She swooped in and leaned up on her toes to give him one last kiss before pulling back to stare into his storm-cloud eyes. Dominic’s hands clamped on her shoulders as if he had no intention of letting her go.

  “Seriously, I’m a mess,” she breathed. “Gotta get changed, and hey, the dishwashers must be about to finish, which means they’ll need to get in here, and I bet you don’t want them to find us like this.”

  His grip slackened, a conflicted frown wrinkling his brow, and Colby took advantage of the moment to escape.

  Chapter Nine

  Colby hitched the strap of her canvas knife roll higher on her shoulder and took the stairs up to the kitchen two at a time. She wasn’t late—she hadn’t been late since the first morning—but after coming back upstairs the night before to no trace of Dominic other than the keys to the restaurant, Colby hadn’t slept well.

  She’d mulled it over the entire time she was cleaning the kitchen. It didn’t seem like a good sign, except that he’d left the keys for her, which indicated a certain level of trust.

  But even after tossing and turning all night long, Colby was no closer to being able to read Dominic’s mind or predict how he would react to the aftermath of some of the hottest sex Colby had ever had. It was doing a number on her head, and she wasn’t even dealing with the whole same-sex issue.

  She’d let this whole thing get completely out of hand. Part of Colby wanted to pack up her knives and take the first train back to DC, to throw herself on her ex-boss’s mercy and take back everything she’d yelled at him when he promoted yet another guy over her—but as she hit the top of the stairs and jogged into the quietly bustling morning kitchen, she knew she couldn’t leave without finding out if there was any possibility of a future with Dominic.

  She wanted to believe that the reason the sex was so explosive was that Dominic had broken down some walls and let her see inside. And even if she hadn’t come clean all the way, she’d still been as honest as she could be about her own past. It was more than she’d told any other guy she’d ever slept with.

  Last night had been about more than sex, for both of them. And she hoped it had been about more than gender, too.

  She was probably kidding herself, she mused as she scanned the kitchen for Antonio. When she didn’t immediately see the sous chef who handed out prep tasks, she shrugged and staked out a corner of the large, stainless-steel work table in the center of the kitchen and gathered the ingredients for mirepoix.

  The mixture of finely diced onions, carrots and celery was at the base of a ton of dishes, and the simple task was mindless enough to allow her to continue to dwell on Dominic.

  They hadn’t really talked about what was going on with his brother, but Colby could read between the lines. Marc represented the family who’d rejected Dominic, but Dom obviously loved his younger brother and regretted losing touch with him.

  When it came right down to it, Dominic might very well choose his reconciliation with his brother over exploring his attraction to Colby. And she got that, she really did.

  The onion fumes were burning her eyes. That was the only reason they were tearing up. Obviously. It certainly wasn’t due to the painful irony of the fact that if she could only tell Dominic the truth about her being a woman, he wouldn’t have to choose at all.

  “You okay, St. James?”

  Colby glanced up at Felix Kerman’s deep, rumbly question. The big chef had drifted over to stand beside her, trailed by the rest of the chef candidates.

  “Hey, guys,” Colby said, dredging up a watery smile. “I didn’t notice you over there in the corner. What’s up?”

  “We were waiting for Antonio to come tell us what to do,” John Qui said, lips quirking. “Which I see now was dumb. Here, pass me those carrots and I’ll get started on peeling them.”

  Wordlessly, she handed over the carrots, and Felix took the celery. Shifting from foot to foot, Gerard looked anxious. “What should I do?”


  Blinking stinging tears from her eyes and making a face at herself, Colby glanced at the other chef in surprise. “I don’t know. Maybe start mixing up the brine for the roast capon?”

  Practically beaming with relief, he hurried off, leaving only Bryce Manning with his arms crossed over his chest and a venomous scowl. “If you think you’re giving me orders next, forget it.”

  Colby rolled her eyes. “I don’t care what you do, Manning. But I would’ve thought after last night you’d be working overtime to impress Chef Fevre.”

  Ugly red colored his cheeks, and she felt momentarily guilty for rubbing his nose in his humiliation. It didn’t last, however, because Manning shoved up next to her and hissed, “I’m not interested in impressing Chef Fevre the way you’re doing it.”

  It took everything she had not to betray herself by freezing up. A surreptitious glance showed her that Qui and Kerman were both busily chopping away, heads down and attention on their knife work. She relaxed a little but kept her voice low and steady. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Manning. And neither do you.”

  “Don’t I?” he sneered, every inch of him vibrating with suppressed triumph. “All last week, we went to the same dive bar the regular Maison crew hits, and I got to talking with the dishwashers. I speak a little Spanish and they’re real friendly guys.”

  Colby’s stomach clenched and Manning leaned in for the kill, as if he could smell her sudden fear.

  “They’re chatty, too,” he gloated. “And boy did they have some interesting tales to tell when I met up with them at the bar last night.”

  Brazen it out. That’s all you can do. He doesn’t have any proof.

  “I’m surprised you’re even standing upright this morning, if you started drowning your sorrows as soon as you left here. How early was that? Eight? Eight-fifteen?”

  He drew back as if stung. “It wasn’t that early. And anyway, I was doing fine. All that shit was just an excuse for Chef Fevre to let his little favorite take over.”