He sees me, and I see him, and then we quickly look away from each other.
I mingle with Dale, Susan, Samantha, and Pete. They’re talking about the Calypso closing, Steve’s gambling addiction, and their favorite memories at the café. Of course, everybody wants to know all the sizzling details about Randy’s appearance on Head Chef Total Domination.
I purposely keep my distance from him. I don’t know why—maybe because I’m pissed he had a showmance with Deanna Blume. I don’t even know if he won or whether the sultry exchanges between him and Deanna were simply drummed up by the producers for drama.
Suddenly, the room starts to spin, and I feel as if I need some fresh air. “I’ll be right back.” I set my drink down.
I walk to the exit. It’s noisy in the main room, so I step outside. I take a deep breath, inhaling through my nose. The air is cool. Jeez, I can’t believe Randy’s in there. He didn’t even come up to me and say…
“Hi, Gina.”
I quickly turn, and I am locking eyes with Randy.
“Hi,” I barely say and shift my gaze to an object across the street. I think it’s a bike rack.
He shoves his hands in his pocket. “Looks like a lot’s changed since I left.”
I nod, thinking this is so much truer than he knows. “Yeah. So…” I calmly look back at him. “Did you win?”
He smirks.
I forgot how much his dimples make me melt.
“Wouldn’t you and everyone else like to know?” He sweeps his foot across the ground and goes on to explain that they finished filming a couple of weeks ago, but the network requires the contestants to remain hush-hush about the results until after the season airs. “Anyway, I can’t believe what happened to the café, and my God”—he rolls his eyes, shaking his head—“Steve.”
“Everyone’s been caught off guard.” I look to the ground impetuously.
“So do you have another job lined up?”
Suddenly, and I don’t know why, I’m overwhelmed by the fact that I’m going to have his baby. I keep looking at the ground. I wasn’t planning on seeing him here tonight. In fact, I don’t even know when I was planning on seeing him. My breath shortens. I realize how totally unprepared for this I am. Gina, I tell myself, just be you. Be bold—tell him and get it over with. I open my mouth…
“So I’m buying the café,” I blurt.
He straightens his back. “You what?”
“I’m buying the café.”
A car crossing the intersection blares its horn at a guy on a bike. The bike rider raises his middle finger. We both turn, distracted.
Randy puts his arm on my shoulder and looks me squarely in the eyes. His touch warms me through my jacket. I haven’t felt that particular sensation since before he left. “How much are you buying it for?”
I pull my shoulder back. “Why?”
He steps closer to me, totally invading my space.
I want to step back, but I’m held captive by his magnetic energy.
“Because,” he says while taking the lapels of my jacket gently in his hands, “I did win.” He practically whispers it.
“Congratulations.” I feel myself weakening.
He continues stroking the lapels of my jacket with his thumbs and fingers. He’s close enough that I can now smell his fragrance. I’m not sure what he wears, but it’s the same thing I smell every time I drive my face into his chest while we’re screwing. It drives me mad. “I’ve got a hundred grand, and I wanted to use it wisely.”
I already know what he’s about to propose, and I must say I don’t want to shut him down. My lips stretch into a smile that I want to contain but cannot.
“What?” He tilts his head back and gives me an admiring look.
“Well, I had a couple of ideas.”
“You did?” He lets go of my clothing.
I feel the electricity between us fade, and I long for its return. “I did.” I proceed to tell him the ideas I’ve had about remodeling and changing the menu by serving real food. “There’s no reason I shouldn’t be using my culinary expertise.”
He laughs.
“What?” I snap.
“Aren’t you still in culinary school?”
I fold my arms. “Yeah, but it doesn’t stop me from being a great cook.”
He studies me for a moment. “I agree,” he says, still smiling. “But.”
“But what?”
“That means you’re going to have to make some changes to the kitchen.”
I drop my arms. “I know this.”
He steps closer to me, reaches his hands to the front of my jacket, and tugs me to him. Sparks practically jump between us. I want to go limp, but I keep my posture erect.
“I think you’re going to need some help,” he says.
“I guessed that’s what you were going to say.” I can practically feel the heat from his chest. I never imagined having a business conversation like this before.
“And what do you think about that?”
I’m not letting pheromones make the decision for me. In my mind, I can hear Naomi’s suggestion that I go into business with someone who has experience—like Randy. “The purchase price is two eighty. Equal partners will mean we split it fifty-fifty. Do you have an extra forty K?”
“I can get it.”
“Okay, then,” I say.
“Is that a yes?” he speaks gently and so close that I can feel his breath.
“Yes.” I nod, intentionally keeping my mouth open, figuring our deal is done, so I can be in a position to receive whatever he’s giving.
He draws me closer to his chest. I close my eyes and allow my head to slowly fall forward. Any second, our lips should touch. All the while, I’m pushing away the feeling that I should tell him about the baby deep inside me.
His moist and supple lips connect with mine. This kiss is almost too much to bear. Finally, our mouths separate.
Randy takes a breath. “Why don’t you and I get out of here?”
We’re business partners now, and I should behave differently. I step back. “What did you have in mind?”
He steps closer again. “I had having you in mind.”
I think of him inside me, and I want it. I want him.
“Where did you want to go?”
“My place.”
I don’t know if I’ll miss him taking me on the cold kitchen counter at the Calypso or not. The thought of rolling with him under the sheets for a change is quite enticing. “Meet me back here in a few. I’m just going to go in and say my good-byes.”
I make a quick pass through the room, telling everyone that I’ve got class tomorrow and it’s already getting late. Sarah, Rita, and Samantha all look at me like they know what’s up. I don’t say anything and just walk out.
When I get outside, it’s beginning to sprinkle. Randy pulls up in his car, gesturing for me to hop in.
My eyes grow wide. “But I drove,” I say. “And besides”—I start heading down the walk toward my car—“we should go to my place.”
He groans. “Come on, let’s just go to mine. You’ve never been there anyway. Don’t you think it’s about time?”
I bend down and make eye contact with him through his open passenger window. “You’ve never been to mine either.”
“Gina, please don’t make this hard, especially when it doesn’t have to be.”
I sigh. I am making this whole situation unnecessarily difficult. “Okay, but I’ll follow you,”
He nods. “Then let me drop you off at your car.”
I get into his car, and he drives me around the block. Just being this close to him is already making me excited. He stops behind my car, and I get out.
As soon as I’m in the driver’s seat, I turn my ignition, and my car won’t start. I click it again and again, and there’s nothing. I look up. Randy is behind me, giving me space to pull out safely onto the main road. The car behind him is flashing its lights and honking. Randy accelerates away and stops in the space
in front of my car.
Shit. I slam my hands onto my wheel. Maybe the universe is telling me this is a bad idea. Maybe it’s better we don’t end up fucking anyway. Then my body aches in sadness. Hell, I’ve been working my ass off and deserve it. The sprinkle has turned to more of a drizzle, and I figure I’d better go pop the hood before this turns into a full-on rain.
I get under my hood and start wiggling wires with my face practically in the engine. It’s too dark, and I can hardly see anything.
“Need a hand, partner?” Randy says.
I turn, squinting. He’s flashing the light from his cell phone in one hand and a wrench in the other.
I wiggle the battery cable and let him know that it’s loose.
“I figured there was something going on like that. Let me cinch it,” he says.
It’s difficult to step back and let another person work on my car, but I make myself do it. I stare at his magnificent frame as he leans over my engine and tightens the cable.
“Try to start it,” he says.
I nod, slide behind the wheel, and turn the key in the ignition.
The engine roars to life.
“Thanks,” I say.
He winks. “No, follow me.”
I watch him walk back to his car. I never noticed the confident swagger. Right now, I’m finding him sexy as ever.
We get to his place. It’s a small house about halfway across town. It takes about twenty minutes to get there.
I walk inside of his bachelor’s pad. The décor is contemporary and clean without being overly furnished.
"It’s nice,” I say.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asks while pouring himself a glass of wine.
“Water will be fine.” I look back out the large window at the cute, woodsy neighborhood.
Shortly thereafter, he approaches with a glass of water and with ice.
“Thank you.”
“Cheers,” he says.
I prepare to raise my glass, and he retracts his.
“You know, you don’t have to drink water just because I’m not drinking.”
“Oh.” I continue raising my glass and give him an impish grin. “Thank you.”
Our glasses clank.
“To our partnership,” he says.
I repeat, “To our partnership.”
We look devilishly into one another’s eyes. Randy sets his glass down, walks toward me, and sweeps me off my feet.
I look at the large island countertop in his kitchen. “The kitchen for old times’ sake?”
He laughs and walks me there, setting my bottom on the white quartz. He pries my legs open as he always does. I can feel my juices flow.
“Tonight”—he looks passionately into my eyes—“we’re going to the sheets.”
My body jolts back to his so that I’m again off the ground, my legs hugging his waist like scissors.
We walk through his bedroom door to the edge of his bed. He tosses me through the air onto the sheets.
No sooner than I can blink, Randy is approaching—crawling slowly up the bed. I back up, inching my way onto the headboard.
He stops, still on his knees, and positions his weight over his ankles. I stare, undeniably signaling with my heavy breathing and bedroom eyes I’m ready for whatever comes next.
He takes my left foot somewhat forcefully and jettisons my shoe. His eyes feel like they’re filled with fire in a way I’ve never felt them before.
His tongue glides in and out and around my toes… and yet, he’s still looking squarely at me. I feel like he’s becoming a real animal and I’m morphing into his prey. I keep my knee frozen so it’s unable to retract, even though it tickles, allowing his tongue to spawn other and new sensations as it slides down and into my arch. Oh my God. I tilt my head back—my foot quivering. More aggressively, he takes it with his firm, manly hands and intensifies the work of his tongue. Warm, powerful waves of shock reverberate through my foot, leg, vagina, and into the center of my body.
He lifts my other foot while his mouth is still on the left one, pulls off my shoe, and guides his mouth so that he may pleasure it too. His strong, massaging hands firmly caress both while his moist mouth continues making love to my toes. With each pass of his thumbs up the interior of my feet, my body grows submissively weaker.
I lift my head and look, giving a smile and an innocent laugh. What he’s doing is absurdly sexy, crude, and overwhelming, and it has me spinning like a top.
He grins, pressing both of my feet together now and rubbing them firmly. More of my tension melts. His expression remains determined, and I feel he’s going to take me like never before. I gulp and allow my eyes to roll to the back of my head.
His fingers release their firm, massaging grip, and his hands slide down my thighs until they’re gripping me by my waist and the handles of my hips. He pulls my pelvis so that my rear slides up and into his chest.
His fingers gently slide around my belly, tickling my navel and undoing my button-fly jeans. Each passing second, I allow myself to slide further into his embrace, appreciating the added foreplay that we skipped while making love in the kitchen at work. This is not like anything I’ve experienced before. His power is larger and deeper and is taking me like waves in the ocean. His hands position between my skin and jeans, and he begins pealing back the denim to uncover my skin. My pants slide down my legs and off, first my right, then my left. He takes my ankles and presses my knees firmly toward my chest so that my vagina is exposed.
I’m open and ready. I can feel it, ready for whatever is next. His tongue finds its way under the lip of my panties, tasting me all the way up my crack and into my wet, steaming places. My body jolts as his tongue touches the forbidden. Before long, he tugs my undergarment with his teeth and takes an unabated approach to licking and sucking and licking again every millimeter of my opening and surrounding lips.
I open my legs wide and arch my ass farther into the air. He continues without stopping. I moan, taking the sheets in my grip. He’s pinpointed my clit. Lick after lick. I press myself into his tongue until I erupt over and over again. I try to pull my shaking body away, but he keeps his nose pressed to me and his tongue, unrelenting, to my spot. Finally, I practically roll up the wall, pressing my hands against his forehead.
“Stop,” I practically bark.
He obliges, and my body relaxes—but with caution—back onto the bed. His ocean-blue eyes have never had so much depth. My fingers run through his hair.
“What more do you want?” I say.
At first, nothing comes but his passionate stare. “You, and only you.” He turns my pelvis. My body slides lengthwise deeper into his bed. He stands above me to undress. I’ve never before seen him completely bare, only his chest through his unbuttoned chef coat or his ass and cock when his pants are around his ankles. I’m awestruck by his unobstructed masculine physique. His penis stands, impressively sized, already engorged.
He returns to the sheets and falls between my thighs. I position my waist, lifting my pelvis to the air, exposing more freely my point of entry. My eyes roll to the back of my head as his girth opens me. I moan. Softly, he indulges me much slower than before.
We roll and roll. He takes me on my side from behind, cradled between my thighs.
Throughout the night, his tongue manages to find every inch of my body, and mine finds every inch of his. I orgasm only once more after his oral treatment, but we practically ride each other in a preclimactic bliss for what feels like half the night. When we finish, I’m limp, sweaty, and exhausted.
Our prior bouts of kitchen romance were hot. But if I’m honest with myself, they were just fucks. Tonight, we made love, and never before have I loved like that—not with him and not with anyone.
The silence is thick but golden. Nothing needs to be said. All I desire is to lie here, breathe, and enjoy the feeling of fulfillment. He gave me so much more than I could have imagined. I close my eyes and fall gently asleep.
13
My eyes open. The sheets that I’m lying on smell different—like citrus cologne, sweat, and intoxicating sex. And not just any sweat—Randy’s and mine. Last night’s events rush back to me in a flash. I look around, feeling panicked as if I’m planning to find an empty bottle of wine or booze. I recount last night’s events. I went home with Randy. We made love. I’m in his bed. It’s as simple as that, I tell myself.
Randy’s sleeping with his back to me, practically hugging the corner of the bed. His snores are so loud they could wake a hibernating bear. I plant my palm to my forehead. My postcoital bliss seems to have faded. Slowly, I start inching my way off the bed. I’ve perfected the skill of sneaking out the day after having sex. So why should this be any different? Reality strikes me. This time, it’s a lot different. I’m sitting here with his child in me, and he doesn’t know. That’s a lot different.
I make it to the edge, and Randy makes a weird grunting sound and then stops snoring. I freeze, as if my statue-like pose will keep him from seeing me. A few seconds pass, and he starts sawing logs again, only now not so loudly. I slide my legs off the bed and plant both feet gently on the hardwood floor. I spot my jeans and top, which landed just a few feet away. I tiptoe over and pick them up. Then I swipe my purse off the leather chair.
Where are my shoes?
I turn to look behind me. Randy hasn’t moved. One of my shoes is under the foot of the bed. The other one must not be too far away. I carefully get on all fours and crawl to shoe number one. Once I have it, I get lower to see farther under the bed. There’s my other shoe. I stretch an arm to retrieve it. Suddenly, Randy shifts. I freeze until he starts calling the cows again. I let out a silent sigh. With both shoes in one hand and my dress and purse in the other, I rise to my feet and finish tiptoeing out of Randy’s bedroom. I make it to the front door when it occurs to me that I forgot my panties. There’s no going back now. I slip on my clothes and carefully open the door. My eyes engage with the bright sunlight, and I squint. I take a deep breath and then run down the footpath. I don’t stop until I get into my car and speed off down the tree-lined street.
The Chef's Passion (Her Perfect Man Contemporary Romance) Page 8
