by S. Van Horne
“It’s me assuming.”
I quirk an eyebrow and tilt my head. “Assuming what?”
“That your ass is as sweet as it is lush.” He releases my hand and rubs my thigh. His fingers push up my skirt and brush my bare skin.
I catch my lip between my teeth, and a shiver runs through my body. “Are we still going to The Brown Bottle?”
Dylan tugs down my skirt and rests his hand on the steering wheel. “Yes, but as soon as we’re done eating, I get to find out if it’s true.”
I clasp my hands together in my lap and close my eyes.
If this is a dream, I never want to wake up, and if it isn’t, I’m about to enjoy the hell out of this man until he kicks me out of his bed.
First, he needs to feed me.
CHAPTER FIVE
DYLAN
“YOU WANT THIS WHERE?”
I grab the plate of duck confit nachos and two wine glasses. “In my office.”
“Is there a reason why you’re eating in your office?” Kane, my head chef asks.
“Because I want to.”
He looks down at the two glasses in my hand. “Or, because you don’t want us to meet whoever you have hidden away in there.”
He’s right. I don’t need these horn dogs coming around to our table every five minutes trying to get a glimpse at Ginger. I’ve taken dates to The Brown Bottle before, and they all ended horribly. “Just knock when the food is ready.”
“Are you going to actually let me in the office, or do you want me to slide it through the mail slot?” Kane tosses his head back, laughing at his own lame joke.
“Knock,” I growl.
I dodge three waitresses and my sous chef returning from break on the way back to my office. It isn’t odd for me to take food to my office when I’m working on paperwork, so thankfully, none of them ask me what I’m up to like Kane did. I would have gotten back to my office question-free if Kane hadn’t spotted the two wine glasses.
“Should I be concerned about the fact that you have knives hanging on your wall?” Ginger asks as I kick the door shut behind me.
I deposit the plate of nachos on the desk and hand her a wine glass. I move behind my desk and grab a bottle of Sea Smoke 10 that I’ve been saving. “The one on the right is the first chef knife I ever owned. The two below that are from my mentor, Chef Niko.” I grab the corkscrew from my desk and pop open the bottle.
“Doesn’t he need his knives?”
“No, he died five years ago.”
She gasps and touches my arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks,” I mumble. Talking about Niko isn’t really up there with the top romantic things to discuss. “It happened a while ago.”
She nods, apparently catching the drift that I didn’t want to talk about it, and turns back to the knives. “I never knew it was normal to hang knives on the wall.” She glances over her shoulder at me. “Of course, I’ve never actually known a chef before.”
“I’m glad to be your first.” I hold up the bottle, and she reaches her glass out to me.
She smirks. “Typical man.”
Hearing you’re the first of anything for a woman is a major turn-on. “How about we deal with another first for you?”
She tilts her head and clears her throat. “Dylan, I’m not…well, I’ve—”
Ha! She thinks I think she’s a virgin. I don’t believe virgins exist past the age of nineteen anymore, and I know I’m not the first man to want Ginger. I grab her free hand and pull her to the desk. “Not what I meant, Ginger. I was assuming you’ve never had duck confit nachos.”
A relieved breath whooshes from her lips. “That would be a no.”
I pull her around to the back of the desk where I normally sat. “You sit here, and I’m going to sit on the other side.”
She nods, but I know she’s wondering what the hell I’m up to. “Do I get to ask you questions now?”
I wink and sit down in the chair. “Think of it as an interview of sorts. Eat and ask me any questions you want.”
Her eyes fall on the plate full of cheesy nachos, and she nods. “I can totally get behind this idea,” she mumbles. Her fingers grab a chip loaded down with duck, roasted peppers, tomatoes, and Havarti cheese. “I’ve never had duck confit before. I’m more of a KFC girl.”
I smirk and take a sip of wine. “It may sound fancy, but it all comes down to the fact it tastes fucking delicious.”
She hesitantly takes a bite and leans her head back, moaning. That is the only way to react when you try duck nachos for the first time. She’s going to have her world rocked before the end of the meal. I ordered my top three best-sellers for her to taste. “Sweet nibblets, that is amazing.” She licks her fingertip and takes a sip of wine.
“Just wait for the next two dishes, sweet cheeks. I’ll have you moaning more than once.”
“Is that a promise?” she coyly asks.
I clear my throat and tug on the collar of my shirt. This woman is exactly what I need and want. “Keep eating,” I motion to her plate, “and start asking questions.” I’m about to fast-track our relationship after dinner, and I don’t want her to feel like she knows absolutely nothing about me.
She eats another chip and manages to smother her moan this time, but she still closes her eyes while she chews. She pats her lips with the napkin next to her and levels her gaze on me. “You’ll answer any question I ask?”
I nod and cross my legs. “Within reason. I can’t give away all of my secrets on our first date, but I will answer most.”
She leans back in the chair and shifts, slowly crossing her legs. I damn the desk for blocking my view of them.
“What did you want to be when you were growing up?”
Not what I thought she was going to ask, but I figure I have made her answer the same question, it’s only fair that I will, too. “I held my first chef’s knife when I was seven. My grandfather taught me how to cook. I’ve wanted to be a chef since I was seven.”
“Wow, that’s pretty impressive.”
“I tend to know exactly what I want when I see it.” She’s the next thing on my list.
She gulps and takes another sip. “So your grandfather was a chef?”
I shake my head. “No. He just enjoys to cook. I’m the first in my family to go to college, let alone culinary school.”
“Bravo to you.” She sweeps her arm around the office. “And you are doing damn fine, too.”
“Next question,” I murmur.
“How long have you been doing the whole escort thing?”
“Since Jason started it.”
“And Jason is?”
Oh shit, that’s right. I’m supposed to be her birthday present from her sister. “Jason is the man behind The Meat Market. Your sister met with him to set up our date.”
She tilts her head to the side. “Now I have a whole lot of other questions I need answered, but they have nothing to do with you, and more with The Meat Market.”
I shrug. “I really don’t know much about it. The guys tell Jason what kind of women they are interested in dating, and he takes it from there. Although, I did have a hand in writing my own section.”
She laughs and quirks an eyebrow. “Now you need to tell me what your section is on the menu. Lexi, my sister, said you fit me perfectly. That was why she picked you, but she wouldn’t tell me what it had said.”
I brace my arm on the chair and snag a chip from the plate. “Just what my favorite song is and motto I tend to live by.”
“And those would be?”
I clear my throat. “‘Baby got Back,’ and ‘Thick thighs make the best ear muffs.’” Spoken out loud, it makes me sound like a jackass.
She tosses her head back and laughs her ass off. “Oh, my God,” she gasps. Her cheeks flush pink, and she’s even more beautiful. “You did not put that on the menu.”
I shrug and sit back in my chair. “I did.”
“Next time I go shopping, I am so buying you a shirt that says
, ‘Thick thighs save lives.’” She slaps her hand on the desk and cackles. “Oh, my God, oh, my God,” she gasps.
“It’s good to see you can take a joke.”
She waves her hand at me and rests her other hand on her chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh at you. I just didn’t expect that to come out of your mouth.”
“You’d be amazed at the things I can do with my mouth.”
She gasps, and her eyes bug out. “That’s not what I said.”
“I know, I just needed to shock you to get us back on even ground.” I swirl my wine around in my glass. Kane will be knocking any minute with the rest of our food. “One more question before the Blackened Bourbon Burgers arrive.”
She taps her fingers on her chin. “Hmm, do you enjoy being an escort?”
She’s going straight for the jugular. The whole escort thing isn’t something I enjoy talking about. “At first, I did. It was entertaining to see all of the women who needed a date. That was then, though. Now, you were my last date. Jason had to twist my arm to accept your sister’s request for Prime Rib.”
Ginger giggles. “I will never be able to eat prime rib again.”
“You and me both,” I agree.
“So, I’m really your last date? Well, you know what I mean.”
A knock sounds at the door. “That should be Kane with the burgers. Hold that thought.”
I open the door, grab the tray from Kane, and shut the door before he’s able to peek around me and see Ginger. “Damn savages,” I mutter, setting down the tray.
“Everyone trying to see who the boss is hiding in his office?” Ginger asks.
I place her plate in front of her and grab mine. “You’re mine tonight, I’m not sharing you.”
She tilts her head and watches me while I devour half of my burger in three bites. “You tend to say whatever is on your mind.” It was more of a statement than a question, so I don’t answer. She clears her throat and sets her glass on the desk. “I don’t know what we’re doing here, Dylan. I mean, I know we’re eating and getting to know each other, but after this, then what?”
I wipe my mouth with my napkin and toss it on the desk. “After this, we keep doing what we are tonight.”
She rolls her eyes and takes off the top to her burger. “Such a simple answer for a complicated question.” She removes the tomato and puts it on the side of her plate. “This looks delicious, all except for the tomato.”
“I’ll remember that,” I mumble.
She looks up at me and scrunches up her nose. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pick apart your masterpiece.”
“You’re fine.”
She takes a bite of the burger, and her moan surrounds me. My dick raises to half-mast knowing she’ll sound the same way when I bury myself inside her.
“Keep the questions coming.”
She licks her lips and sets the burger back on the plate. “That’s delicious.”
I smirk. Damn right it’s delicious.
“What was the first thing you thought about me?”
“Before I saw you, I was pissed you were late. But, as soon as I saw you, you could have been ten hours late, and I still would have waited for you.”
She rolls her eyes and takes another bite. “How can you be so sure you want to date me, when we’ve only known each other an hour?”
“The same way I knew I wanted to be a chef after feeling the weight of that chef’s knife in my hand. Or when I walked into The Brown Bottle, I knew that this was going to be mine.”
“Dylan, that is ri—”
I sit forward, set my plate on the desk, and stand. “Ginger, all of those times, all it took was one moment. One second to look around and know it was right for me.”
“Some people might call that foolish.”
I brace my hands on the desk and look down at her. “Are you trying to talk me out of dating you?”
“Well, I uh…it’s just…” she stammers.
“Give me one good reason why I should end this date right now and send you home?”
“You were paid to be here.”
I grab my wallet out of my pocket and toss a wad of cash on the desk. “There, take it back. I want you more than the money.”
“Dylan, that’s six hundred dollars!”
Shit, her sister didn’t pay that much. “I don’t care how much it is. If you’re stuck on the money, then take it back, give it to your sister, keep it or whatever. I don’t want you to think that every word that comes out of my mouth is because of money.”
She buries her face in her hands and shakes her head. “This is so messed up,” she mumbles.
“It’s not anymore. From this moment on, we are both here because we want to be. Not because of money or your sister making you come.”
She slowly lowers her hands and raises her head to look at me. “Do over?”
I see a glimmer of something in her eye, and I know she feels the same way I do. She doesn’t want this night to end either. Taking away the money and a pushy sister makes everything so much simpler. I round the desk and hold out my hand to her. “My name is Dylan Lexington, and I’d love to go on a date with you tonight, and every night for a long fucking time.”
She places her hand in mine, and I pull her up. “I’m Ginger Wronly, boring as hell, but I have a feeling you’re about to change that.”
She has no idea how right she is.
CHAPTER SIX
GINGER
I TOSS MY NAPKIN ON my empty plate and moan. Holy hell, I haven’t eaten that much delicious food in forever. Dylan was sitting across from me, his eyes on me the whole time I devoured my burger, and the fish tacos. I was a total pig. “Changing your mind about dating me after seeing how much food I can put away?”
He shakes his head and sets his wineglass on the desk. “Not hardly. I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on watching someone eat.”
I quirk an eyebrow and smirk. “I might have to question the things that turn you on.”
“A woman with a healthy appetite is one of the most appealing things to me.”
“Me stuffing myself silly probably would be a turn-on to a chef,” I mumble. “I know if you ever get bored of me, I’ll just grab a bag of chips, and you’ll be enraptured with me.”
A low laugh rumbles from his lips. “I’ll be sure to keep a bag next to the bed.”
“The only reason I’m okay with you laughing at me is because it’s sexy as hell.”
Another knock sounds at the door, and I groan, knowing it’s another person bearing more food. “Please tell me that is just another bottle of wine and not some decadent dessert.”
Dylan turns around from the door with another bottle of wine in his hands, but also with a plate with a silver dome on it. He sets the plate and bottle on the desk, then goes back to the door, and turns the lock. “It’s just something light, I promise.”
I reach to move the dome, and he tsks at me. “Did you just tsk me?”
He moves around to the back of the desk and pulls me out of my chair. “I did, but it’s for your own good. You don’t want to ruin the surprise.” He winds his arms around me and pulls me flush against him.
“Boring people don’t deal well with surprises,” I mutter.
He looks down at me. “I don’t know why you keep calling yourself boring. I’ve spent all night with you, and I haven’t been bored once.”
“Give it time, it’ll happen.”
He spins us around, grabs my ass, and falls into the chair I just vacated. But I am now straddling Dylan’s lap. “I’m not sure I like when you talk down about yourself.”
I roll my eyes and rest my arms on his shoulders. With my knees on either side of his legs, my core presses against his hard dick. Yes, his hard dick. While we were talking about dessert and being boring, Dylan was sporting wood. “Uh, I, um…is that for me?” I look down between us, and Dylan tilts his head down, following my gaze.
“It’s an uncontrollable reaction when I have the most
beautiful woman in the world in my office, let alone my lap. You really can’t blame me.”
“I think there is a compliment in there somewhere.”
“Oh, trust me, there is.” He bucks his hips, my arms circle his neck, and I grind my core down into him.
His hands slide from my butt and glide over my bare thighs. “I assume we’re bypassing dessert?”
He buries his face in my neck and whispers in my ear, “You are dessert, Ginger.”
A tremor rocks my body, and I close my eyes at his words. My tongue glides over my lips, and I pray to God I wouldn’t come just from his words and his hands touching me. It has been too long since I’ve been properly touched by a man.
His lips blaze a trail of kisses up my neck and over my skin to my lips. His mouth finds mine, and the man kisses me like I had never been kissed before. His tongue invades my mouth in the sweetest way while his hands bunch my skirt up to my waist and then tug on the band of my panties. “I was going to take you home to have my way with you, but I don’t think I can wait that long. My desk seems like the perfect place to sink my dick inside you.”
“Jesus Christ,” I moan against his lips. “Stop talking,” I whisper. I’m going to come right here, right now with my clothes still on.
He abruptly stands. My feet wobble when they hit the floor. “Dress and panties off,” he orders.
I dumbly watch, unable to move, as he unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and tugs it over his head. His sculpted and tanned chest fills my gaze. This man is pure sex on a stick. “Ginger,” he growls, snapping me out of my stupor. “Take your dress off, or I’ll rip it off. You’re trying my patience.”
Unfortunately, I’m not quick enough. A grunt rips from his lips as he reaches down, grabs the hem of my dress, and pulls it over my head. “Changed my mind, keep the panties on. You are a man’s wet dream brought to life, sweet cheeks.”
I flush under his observation and nervously shift from foot to foot. “Can I at least take the heels off?”
He shakes his head and slowly unzips his pants. “Nope, at least, not this time.” His pants barely hang onto his hips.
