by Kris Bryant
“Well, this is one more reason to love a kitchen,” I say.
Taryn leans up and kisses me, intensifying the moment. I’ve never been kissed so thoroughly before. Her tongue is warm, wet, and promising. I slide down off of the counter and she pulls me to her, holding me firmly. I break the kiss only because I want to get her back into my bedroom.
“We have about an hour,” she says. I kiss her all the way down the hall, trying to take off her clothes as we head for the bed. I fumble around and she finally helps me so that the only thing left between my skin and hers is a pair of very sexy and very wet, white panties. We fall on the bed, and I waste no time touching and tasting her everywhere. Her body is responsive and she pushes into my touch wanting more. I run my tongue over her breasts. Her hands guide my head to her nipple. I greedily suck and lick her until she starts panting, and moaning. She is squeezing her other breast. As much as I want to sit up and watch her please herself, the need to taste her is too great. As my hand moves from her breast down to her stomach, she orgasms. I look at her in complete surprise. I’ve never been with a woman who orgasmed only from giving her breasts attention.
“Oh, my God, Taryn,” I say. She’s breathing hard as her body is trying to slow down. I keep my hand on her stomach until I feel her body settle, the quivers subsiding.
“Well, that’s never happened before.” Her voice is shaky and I’d smile if I wasn’t so incredibly turned on right now. I lean up and kiss her slowly, deeply enjoying the feel of her full lips against mine. I slip my hand inside of her panties and start massaging her entire pussy. I am not gentle. She bucks up against my hand, her swollen lips wet and hungry for me. I slip inside of her and moan as her smooth walls grab me, pull me inside. I must be in heaven. Every time we’re together, I fall a little bit more. I move inside of her, with her, because of her. Her second orgasm is even more delicious as I control it and drag it out.
Chapter Twenty-one
I can’t help but smile as I watch Taryn slide into my car. She’s leaving her car for her mother so I spent last night cleaning mine out, vacuuming up crumbs, and anything else the hose could suck up that I no longer wanted in my car. I wiped down all surfaces, added an air freshener, and spot treated stains. It looks great.
“I’m excited.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand before shutting her door.
My grin grows. “Me, too.” I carefully merge into traffic and we’re on our way to the lodge. I packed a cooler of snacks because as a chef, I can’t help myself. Most people pack cookies and chips and soda for a road trip. I’ve packed cucumber sandwiches, turkey club pinwheels, and almond puff bars. I pay attention to what Taryn likes to taste.
“How was Olivia this morning when you left?” I’m almost afraid to know.
“She’s so happy Grandma is in town that she barely waved good-bye.” She exaggerates her frown. I kiss my forefinger and place it on her lips. She surprises me by holding my finger against her mouth and kissing me back.
“She’ll miss you, but you’ll be back tomorrow night. Plus, you can call her whenever, and she can call you.” She keeps my hand in her lap and threads her slender fingers with mine. My heart catches, then races. My hand isn’t at a very comfortable angle, but no way am I pulling it back. I’ll take every crumb of affection she throws my way.
“True. So, what plans do you have for us today?” I lift my eyebrow at her. I feel a quick pulse of a squeeze as her fingers clench mine. “What else?” She doesn’t know that I plan on keeping her in bed for the next thirty-six hours, but she seems to want more so I improvise.
“I packed us a light picnic for our bike ride today.” Sure, the food is for the road trip, but I can pretend I made it for a private lunch.
“Ooh. What did you make us?” She’s so cute.
“You’ll just have to find out.”
“I can’t wait until I can cook for you. Just us. Not me teaching a class, but a date night.” Interesting. Now we’re dating. “After school is out, of course.”
“I can’t wait either.” Her palate is as delicate as mine, and the two of us in the kitchen is going to be explosive. I shiver just thinking of the possibilities. I wonder if we’d ever get around to eating the food. Food is decadent. Feeding it to someone as sensitive as Taryn would lead to sex every time. We spend the two hour drive talking about education. She’s fascinated about law school, and I prod her for information about her James Beard Finalist nod.
“Priorities change. I know I can cook. I learn new things every day. I was torn between a normal life with Olivia, and becoming a renowned chef. I made the decision to have a child, and it wasn’t fair to her that others were raising her. I’ll just spend the next twelve years perfecting cooking, and when she goes to college, I’ll make a dramatic comeback.” She looks peaceful, and I know she means it.
“Olivia is very well adjusted. For her upbringing, and all of the changes so far, she’s doing a remarkable job of adapting.”
“I think she’s happy. She has friends at school, and gets good marks. Well, for a first grader.”
“She just needs a kitten or two.”
Taryn groans. “I know.”
*
The lodge is remarkable. A bit more commercial than advertised, but still very serene. Taryn surprises me by wanting to go for a bike ride immediately instead of a quick make out session on the oversized canopy bed. I want to pout, but I remind myself that Taryn doesn’t get the opportunity to do adult things very often. We head downstairs and rent two cruisers. I get one with a basket so that I can carry our picnic. It doesn’t take me long to figure out that she is a cycling enthusiast. Her body was made for cycling. Tall, smooth, lean, and sinewy. I could look at her all day. Since we’re at a snail’s pace, we forgo the helmets. I promise her that I won’t fall, and she promises me that she won’t push me. I grew up on country roads. We used bicycle helmets to carry frogs, rocks, and anything we deemed absolutely necessary as part of our daily adventure. A helmet on my head feels foreign to me.
“I have to so that Olivia wears hers, too. She’s still very awkward, and tends to forget she’s riding a bike when she is looking around. We’ve had a trip to the emergency room already,” Taryn says.
“I fall apart when Sophia sneezes and I have to take her to the vet. I can’t even imagine how hard it is when a child is hurt.”
“It’s the worst thing ever. At least now she’s old enough and can tell me when she is hurt or not feeling well. When she was a baby, I was a complete wreck whenever she cried. I didn’t know if she was hungry, tired, teething, or if she caught some horrible virus. Of course my mind always went to the latter.” I laugh. My mom is constantly telling me that, too. “Do you want children?” That question completely knocks me off guard, and I momentarily lose my balance. She laughs at me. “I guess that’s a rather personal question.”
“I would like to have a family someday. I don’t know that I would want to physically birth a child, but I could adopt, or if my wife wanted to get pregnant, I would be fine with that.” I sound more mature about the subject than I really am. Secretly, I’m scared to death, but all of my married friends tell me that when I find the right woman, the anxiety disappears.
“Being pregnant isn’t for everybody.” She doesn’t elaborate so I assume she doesn’t want to go through it again. This conversation is going down a path I’m not ready to think about just yet. This relationship is supposed to be casual, yet I’m picturing her pregnant again. I shake my head, trying to rid myself of that image.
“Are you getting hungry yet?” I ask. We’ve been riding for almost an hour. The trail we are on is paved and dotted with picnic tables every half mile or so. “We can pull over there and have a quick lunch.” I point to a table in the shade. It’s a warm spring day and I want to get out of the sun. I didn’t pack sunscreen and I can feel the slight pinch of a burn tingling my shoulders and arms. I’m surprised that my legs feel strained.
Taryn nods and we pull off the trail. She g
rabs the picnic basket and peeks inside. “Smells delicious.” She orders me to sit down and unpacks the basket, smelling all the food she puts in front of us. The almond bars bring a smile to her face. “Ah, dessert. I don’t get to taste your desserts very often.” I choke on my water. I can’t tell if she’s aware of the innuendo, but my body heats up. Her look is unreadable and just when I think she’s innocent, she winks at me. I’m ready to take her behind the trees.
“You are such a tease.” She laughs at me, knowing full well that I’m completely turned on and having a hard time relaxing. She fixes me a plate and I mask my surprise. I’m not used to thoughtfulness from my lovers. I find I’m holding my breath as she chews a pinwheel. I think I will always worry about what she thinks about anything I make. I’m eating the cucumber sandwich first. I’ve layered extremely thin slices of cucumbers with equally thin tomatoes, held together by a homemade three pepper hummus spread. It’s tasty, but easy enough to make. The pinwheels were a bit harder. She closes her eyes for moment and lists off the ingredients. Surprisingly, she only gets about two thirds of them right.
“Your tongue must be off today,” I say. She looks at me, her eyes narrowing. I can’t help but smile.
“Well, then I will have to taste something I’m familiar with to get it spot on again.”
“I think I can help you with that.”
She leans over the table and cups my face. She looks into my eyes and slowly moves her lips closer to mine. My eyes close in anticipation. When her lips find mine, I sigh. It turns quickly into a moan as she dips her tongue inside my mouth, teasing me, tasting me. I want her closer. I grab her shirt and pull her to me, sucking her tongue into my mouth, not caring that we are in public and people can see us. Her hands drop down to my neck and slip inside my button down shirt, her fingertips pressing into me. She strokes my collarbone, her touch gentle, almost a whisper across my skin. I’m struck with an urge to cry at her tender, yet possessive control of me. This is what I want. This is what I’ve been waiting for. In the span of a single kiss, I have fallen into an unrecognizable place and I have no idea how to stop. I feel my own panic and pull away from her.
“I guess this isn’t the place, huh?” she says. I nod and slowly sink down onto the bench. I can’t feel my legs and my heart is throbbing in my chest. What just happened? I can feel tiny beads of sweat form up by my hairline and I quickly wipe them away. “Are you okay?” I nod and my laugh is shaky.
“Apparently I needed to get out of the sun for a bit,” I say.
She hands me a cold water bottle. “Drink this, all of it. I don’t want you to have heat stroke.” I take the water and drink as much as I can. She wets a napkin and puts it on the back of my neck. The cold snaps me out of my almost meltdown and I’m able to relax again.
“Thanks.” She watches me carefully and I try brushing it off. “I’m fine. Really.” She lifts an eyebrow, but continues to monitor me. I’m hoping food will help so I pop a pinwheel in my mouth. “You failed on the ingredients test.” She tastes another one and manages to get all of the components this time, except the dusting of paprika.
“I would have never thought of that. It’s quite good.” She eats another one and smiles as the final ingredient makes an appearance. “Got it.” A smile blossoms on her face, her white teeth peeping out from beneath her full lips. I could drown in all of her.
“A clever trick I picked up during a condiment lesson several years ago.”
“What has been your favorite class over your culinary career?” she asks.
“Well, I love the freedom that you give us in class so it’s hard not to say yours.”
“Okay, let me rephrase the question. What is your favorite thing to cook? Surely you have a favorite thing. I know I do.”
“Here’s the diner coming out in me, but I really do love to fry chicken. Yes, it’s all about timing and ensuring your chicken is cooked all the way through, but it’s also about the batter. The taste is a mixture of the crispy, spicy batter and the juiciness of the meat. There’s just something so peaceful about it.”
“Your chicken is really good, but your answer surprises me. I thought your soufflé was spot on and delicious. You looked confident the entire class.”
I snort. “I was completely flying by the seat of my pants.” She looks at me like I’m crazy. “Really. I added the flash mushrooms on top because the soufflé looked awful.” She laughs, the lilt of her voice makes me smile even bigger. “Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you all of my mistakes and screw ups since the final is coming up.”
“Trust me, what happens here and outside of class, stays outside of class.” I know she is serious and I nod at her. The final will be exciting. I do know that the scholarship contenders will have an extra cooking assignment. I brush the final away from my mind. I’m down to thirty hours with Taryn now and I don’t want to waste them thinking about school. She reaches out for an almond bar and takes a bite. “I swear you’re going to make me fat.”
“My goal is to make you happy, not fat.”
“I’m very happy with you,” she says.
So what does that mean? Are we still casual? Have we turned the corner into something deeper? I want to ask more, but I’m afraid I’ll come across as needy so I drop it. “I’m glad.”
We finish off most of the food and pack it up, ready to continue our trek. I’m ready for aloe vera and a shower. She’s ready for another ten mile ride. The things we do for love. Wait. What? No. I’m not in love with her. I can’t be in love with her. Have I even been in love before? I’m in that stage right before total panic sets in. My mouth feels dry, but sweat beads my forehead and upper lip. I can hear myself breathing so hard I sound winded.
“Are you okay?” Taryn is suddenly right in my line of vision. “You just turned white as a ghost. Maybe we should sit down again.” She runs her hand up and down my back in a consoling way and walks me to the bench. “Here, drink this.”
I gulp the water down and try hard not to hyperventilate in front of Taryn. This isn’t supposed to happen. This is supposed to be fun only. In my mind, I’m in Italy this time next month, hitting on beautiful Italian women, and eating fantastic food. Images of me texting Taryn and holding my cell phone for a reply even though there is an eight hour difference flood my mind instead. No, this isn’t good. I can’t look at her right now. I’m sure it would show in my face.
“Put your head down,” she says. Fine by me. I have an excuse to look away. Her soft touch is relaxing me and I’m able to slow down my breathing.
“Did I just sound like a husky?” She laughs, but I still hear an edge of concern in her voice.
“There was some heavy panting, but not the kind I find adorable. Maybe you’ve been in the heat too long?” She brushes the hair away from my face and I will myself to relax. A good five minutes passes before I am able to act as if I wasn’t just shaken to my very core. “Want to head back?”
“No. I think I’ll be fine. Besides, we’re at about the halfway mark anyway. I’m sure I’ll be able to make it without further embarrassing us both.” I shake my head and am very near tearing up at my meltdown. Taryn puts her arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer to her. She smells like fresh laundry and honey. I’m sure I smell like sweat and fear. The need for a shower pushes me up to a standing position. “I’m fine. The water helped. Don’t let me ruin this day, okay?”
She nods and we clean up the picnic. A couple on a tandem bike ride by and Taryn stops them to score some sunscreen for me. She thinks it’s heat stroke. I know it’s heart stroke. When you read about people who fall in love or watch it happen in movies, it’s all about smiles and tears of joy as two people cling to one another in sudden realization of this magnificent force. What the fuck happened to me? I feel heavy, physically and emotionally, and my tears are not that of happiness. Taryn looks alarmed and I feel scared. Granted, I haven’t shared the news with her so that’s not really fair to say. I told her this would be casual, and fun, and I can’t
change that this late in the game.
We have finals in a week and I need to keep it together until after the scholarship recipient is announced. If I don’t win, then maybe we can talk about this relationship and the direction it’s heading. Then maybe we’ll have our happy tears. “I’m good now. Really.” I jump on my bike and do a couple of circles around her until she seems satisfied that I won’t fall or pass out. She takes the basket this time and we finish our ride without any further freak outs. Our conversation feels strained because I know she is still worried about me.
“I learned to ride a bike when I was three. I’ve always loved to ride. I even did a few bicycle tours in Scotland and Ireland during college.”
I drove the three blocks to college every day even when the weather was nice. “That’s why you are in such great shape.”
She gives me a genuine smile for the first time in an hour. “Thank you.” She’s confident in the kitchen, the bedroom, but not overly confident with compliments.
I’m starting to feel normal again. My objective is to get her back to the lodge for much needed adult time. That’s why we’re here in the first place. By the time we check the bikes back in, I’m ready to run for the room. First to shower, second to seduce her the best way I know how. The concierge takes her time explaining where dinner will be and what time it’s being served. I’m crushed that there is no room service. Since lunch was mainly finger foods, I’m hoping to talk Taryn into an early dinner so that our evening is free to explore one another. I calmly let us into the room and ask if she would mind if I showered first. She’s insistent on it.
“Hopefully, it will make you feel better,” she says.
I gather up a few essentials and head for the shower. I’m surprised, but grateful that Taryn doesn’t pop in on me. Maybe we will shower together later tonight, or in the morning. I spend a few moments under the heavy stream of hot water coming to terms with my revelation today. I don’t know whether to be angry with myself for falling in love, or happy about it, or just try to forget about it. Our future is completely up in the air and I’m clawing and scratching for answers. What now? Does she love me, too? Do I even tell her? Is this really love or just infatuation? What happens if I leave? What happens when I leave? I can’t expect her to wait for me and I don’t know that I would want my time in Italy stifled because of a relationship. That sounds selfish, but I’ve never been in love before and I’m only using my past experiences and behavior to guide me. I finally get out of the shower, deciding it would be a nice gesture to leave some hot water for Taryn, and get dressed. I still don’t have the answers.
