by Colet Abedi
“I hope you’re hungry,” Jamie says and looks over at me.
“I am.” I smile nervously. Even though I’m the farthest thing from that, my body is craving another kind of sustenance.
In fact, it’s been in a perpetual state of hunger since the last time I saw him.
Jamie leads me to an area of his home I didn’t see when I was here the last time, and when I take it all in, my heart literally melts.
Stops.
Forgets to pump.
Warms up to him a thousand times over.
We’re standing in his family room that has unobstructed views of the ocean. The room has wraparound sliding doors which are open to his unbelievable backyard, showcasing an infinity pool that looks as though it’s cascading into the ocean.
He’s playing Sade, and her sultry voice echoes through the house.
The lights are dimmed, and there are candles lit everywhere. My gaze finds a long dining table, intimately set for two. The table is decorated with a ton of flowers—my favorite kind and color, purple tulips.
They’re everywhere.
He knows this because it was one of the questions he asked this week.
I look at him and smile in gratitude. He went out of his way for me, and I’m beyond touched.
“Did you do all of this?” I ask shyly.
“With some help,” he admits sheepishly. “Kathleen helped me. You met her when you came over that day to drop off the script.”
“It’s unbelievable.” My heart softens at the effort he’s put in.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says as he puts his hand to the small of my back and leads me into the room.
“Can I pour you a glass of champagne?” His voice is polite.
“That sounds wonderful,” I reply gratefully.
The occasion definitely calls for more alcohol.
Jamie walks to the dining table and grabs the bottle of champagne that’s been chilling in a silver bucket of ice. He pulls it out and expertly pops it open, then pours two glasses. He hands me one.
“Cheers,” he says when his emerald gaze meets mine. “To an unforgettable weekend.”
I smile and shake my head. “To an unforgettable evening,” I say pointedly.
Jamie’s eyes glint in challenge. “We’ll see about that.”
I laugh nervously and walk outside to his impressive backyard. It’s decorated perfectly for entertaining, with lounge chairs and tables in different areas of the property to take in the incredible view. It’s expansive and pretty darn unreal.
It’s seriously magazine-worthy.
“Your home is beautiful,” I tell him and turn to meet his powerful gaze.
“You’re beautiful,” he says quietly.
His compliment thrills me more than I care to admit. I look away, feeling shy and unsure. He walks over to me, and his body crowds my space as I look out on the view.
“So how’s the movie coming along?” I ask him, desperately needing to change the topic to something safe.
“Darren is working on my notes,” he tells me. “I won’t see the new draft for at least another few weeks.”
“That’s a pretty quick turnaround.”
“The studio is fast-tracking this,” Jamie says with a shrug. “They’re talking about a Memorial Day release.”
Which is pretty much a year and a half from now.
“That seems fast.”
“It is.” Jamie agrees.
“When does pre-production begin?” I ask and glance at him.
Jamie shrugs. “Officially in a month,” he says. “But I’m going on a location scout in two weeks.”
That meant the movie was not shooting locally. I realize I have no idea what the film is even about, so I ask him that very question.
“You haven’t read the script?” Jamie asks in disbelief.
“I’m just an intern. You know I’m not allowed to read anything unless the script is given to me,” I remind him. “And the project is top secret.”
Jamie rolls his eyes, and I kind of love him for it.
“Top secret? Wanna read the draft?”
“I’d love to!” I say immediately, happy he’d even offer. “I promise not to share it with anyone.”
“I don’t know if I can trust you,” he says, slowly shaking his head from side to side. “You’ll have to read it right in front of me, so I can watch.”
“Come on.” I laugh in amusement.
“You can read it here tomorrow night,” he says with a sugar sweet smile.
I smile. “How convenient.”
“Isn’t it?” he says.
He’s incorrigible.
“So where do you plan on shooting?” I continue with the questions, keeping the topic focused on work.
“Australia,” he says. “There’s a studio out there in Sydney, and the Blue Mountains are a perfect setting for the film. You’ll see why when you read it.”
“Can I get the logline?”
“You know, the usual. Alien invasion,” he says with an amused grin. “Armageddon. Ten-headed aliens.”
He’s referring to my earlier comments about the type of movies he enjoys.
“Touché.”
“If the shoe fits…” He takes a step toward me and reaches out to cup my cheek with his strong hand, and I can’t help but lean into his touch. “Wylder?” His voice is soft.
“Yes?”
“Are you ready to eat?”
Not particularly. I’m actually more than ready for something else.
What is it about food and this man?
“Sure,” I tell him as enthusiastically as I can.
“I’m glad.” He sounds excited. “You’re in for a real surprise. Have a seat, baby.”
My heart slams in my chest.
I hate that I love the way he says baby. God, it’s hot.
I want to be his baby.
He leads me back inside and to the table and politely pulls out my chair. Once I’m seated, he leans over and kisses me on my neck. That incredible raw, masculine scent of his washes over me, and it takes everything I have not to turn toward him for another kiss.
“You have impeccable manners,” I whisper.
“My mom taught me right,” he says with a ghost of a smile.
She sure did.
“Be right back.”
He leaves me alone with my frayed nerves. My thoughts drift over my short life and how I even got here.
I’m in Jamie Donovan’s house.
In his dining room. Being served and seated by him.
Life can sure throw you a curve ball when you least expect it, a real big sexually charged one too.
Thankfully, Jamie’s not gone long. When he comes back, he takes a seat across from me, his smile secretive.
“What?” I ask, trying to read his face.
“You’ll see,” he says.
We keep eye contact for a moment longer and then one of the most famous chefs in the world walks into the room and comes to stand next to our table, like we’re dining in his restaurant.
“Chef.” Jamie’s voice is filled with respect. “I’d like you to meet Wylder Buchanan.”
“A pleasure, bella,” he says with a smile.
Wow.
Like double wow.
It’s Marco DiSanto—a walking, talking icon and the star of many Food Network shows.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Chef,” I say in awe. I’m a total foodie and addicted to watching food shows on television. It’s my dirty little secret.
“Tonight we will dine on Neapolitan cuisine,” he says rather formally. “Please sit back and enjoy the experience.”
Chef DiSanto leaves us, and I turn to stare at Jamie, literally an mouth-open stare.
“He’s your friend?” I ask.
“I would use that word very loosely,” he says with a shrug. “More of an acquaintance.”
“Then how did you get Chef DiSanto…” I whisper rather dramatically. “Chef Marco DiSanto to come to your h
ouse and cook?”
“I called in some favors,” he tells me with a chuckle. “I had to impress you.”
Lord.
“You shouldn’t have,” I say, though I’m thoroughly touched.
“I absolutely should have,” he says. “I want tonight to be perfect.”
“Why?” I ask before I can help myself.
He fixes me with his gaze. “Because we had a rather unconventional start,” he says. “This is really our first date.”
I feel my face grow hot. First date… This evening is now taking an entire different direction than I anticipated. I was thinking we were going to get drunk and jump each other’s bones.
“I thought this was supposed to be something casual?” I remind him pointedly.
“What’s not casual about a first date?” Jamie asks curiously.
We share a smile.
“First dates are usually anything but,” I counter.
“Do you have a horror story you’d like to share?” Jamie asks in amusement.
“Thankfully, none have been that egregious.” I shake my head and then I look at him knowingly. “Do you? What am I saying, you so do. You have to.”
“Why do I have to?” He’s curious.
“Because you’re you,” I reply candidly. “There are bound to be a lot of crazies that have come your way.”
Jamie leans back in his chair and cocks his head to the side. His green eyes are alight with amusement while he studies me. “Where should I begin?” Jamie’s voice is contemplative.
“Holy cow. How many have there been?”
“Do you want to hear about the time a woman pulled a gun on me?” he asks with a fond smile. “Or about another time when I broke the cardinal rule and asked an actress out? In my defense, it was earlier in my career, so I was still a bit green and didn’t know better.”
I laugh out loud. “I need to hear both,” I tell him in shock and wait for him to continue.
“The one with the actress is different…”
“Tell me,” I urge.
He shrugs, folds his arms, and leans into the table. “We were at dinner enjoying ourselves, and she felt the need to tell me she had been abducted by aliens,” he says as though it’s no big deal. “Usually, something like that wouldn’t throw me such a curve ball, but then she told me that one of them had been her lover for years…”
My shoulders shake in mirth. “I don’t believe you.”
“True story,” he says with a smile.
“Given your love of aliens, I’m surprised that didn’t excite you.” I try to keep a straight face.
“Yes, well,” Jamie says with a shrug. “Imagine if I didn’t perform as well as her alien lover. I would never live it down.”
We both explode in laughter.
Before I can ask him about the woman with a gun, Chef DiSanto walks in holding our first course. Behind him, a gentleman dressed in a perfectly tailored suit carries a bottle of wine with a napkin folded over his arm. I’m pretty sure he’s a sommelier.
Talk about best first date ever.
“Fiori di zucca,” he says rather dramatically and places the plates before us.
They are fried stuffed zucchini flowers, and the dish is so picture perfect I almost feel bad taking a bite.
“Buon appetito,” Chef DiSanto says and leaves us.
The sommelier comes and pours a small amount of wine in Jamie’s glass for him to try.
“This rosa is composed of four Sardinian grapes and is a perfect complement to the fiori di zucca.”
Jamie takes a taste. “It’s excellent.”
The sommelier nods in pleasure and proceeds to pour us both a healthy amount of wine. “Enjoy.”
He leaves us a second later.
I give Jamie a grateful smile. I’m seriously blown away. “This is incredible,” I tell him. “And you didn’t have to go to all of this trouble.”
“You deserve it,” he says.
My breath hitches, and my panties are seriously wet. I am not going to be able to resist this guy for much longer! I look away from him and pick up my knife and fork.
“You don’t know me well enough to know if I deserve it or not,” I say quietly.
I feel his gaze on mine. “Look at me, Wylder Alma Buchanan.” Jamie’s voice is powerful.
His emerald eyes crash into mine.
“I think I already know you better than you know yourself.”
Chapter Twelve
Five incredibly mouth-watering courses later, one of them being my favorite, pasta bucatini, and Jamie and I finally retire to a lounge area outside.
When I arrived at his house, I didn’t have much of an appetite, but after taking a bite of the first dish from the chef, my appetite came back with a vengeance.
Conversation with Jamie was easy. He is so candid and funny; I could talk to him for hours. He is super smart as well and very vocal politically and up to speed on pretty much everything of importance going on in the world. It’s another really attractive quality about him.
He asked a lot of questions about me. He wanted to know everything, and I found that I was surprisingly forthcoming and honest.
“Let me take you to my favorite spot on my property,” he says. He takes my hand and leads me down a darkly lit path in his backyard. The sound of the ocean crashing on the beach is like magic to my ears.
His thumb rubs against my palm and wreaks havoc on my body.
“Dinner was incredible, Jamie,” I tell him as we walk outside. “It was the single best culinary experience of my life.”
Jamie stops walking and looks down at me. The look on his face takes my breath away. “I’d like to hear those exact words after every experience you have with me.”
My mouth goes dry. “That’s quite a bar to set,” I quip.
“You’re quite a woman I’d like to impress.”
If I wasn’t holding on to Jamie’s hand, I would have taken a nose dive through the air. Luckily, he’s got a strong grip.
“This won’t do,” he says admonishingly.
Before I know what’s coming, he turns toward me and picks me up in his arms, then cradles me close to his broad chest.
“Jamie!” I shriek out. “Put me down! I’m too heavy.”
“You’re insulting my masculinity,” he chides. “You’ll have me in tears in no time.”
“As if.”
He gives me a sugar-sweet smile before holding me up firmly in one arm while the other creeps down to my high heels. Before I realize it, he’s slipped them off and drops them on the ground.
“My shoes!”
“They’ll be here when we come back.” Jamie’s voice is all innocent, but I know better. “In fact, you just gave me a really good idea,” he says.
To my surprise, he lets my body slide back down to the ground. Without my heels, I feel unusually small next to him.
“Lift your hands up,” he orders.
I don’t know why I don’t question him, and I do as he told me. He takes hold of my turtleneck and lifts it up over my head.
“Wait—” My voice is muffled by my shirt and then I’m free of it, and I’m standing before him barefoot in my bra and jeans.
Jamie’s eyes light up as they sweep over me.
“You have the best rack.” He all but groans, his eyes smoldering in desire.
I stare at him with melting need, suddenly not shy in the least. I know what I want. It’s him. And it’s now.
I’ve waited too damn long.
Especially when I know exactly how good it feels to be with him.
I make a move to take my bra off, but Jamie’s voice stops me.
“No,” he commands. “I want to undress you. It’s my reward after you made me wait so damn long for this moment.”
I stop and take in a shaky breath, looking up at him in anticipation.
His body rocks toward mine. His hands move around my naked waist, leaving a trail of electric energy, and he unsnaps my black lacy bra. My breasts are
free.
He moves a few inches back and looks down at me.
I hear his sharp intake of breath before he unbuckles my belt and unzips my jeans. He pulls them down slowly, moving with them, his lips trailing kisses on the way down.
My head falls back on its own accord as I revel in the feel of his hands moving along my body, kneading my ass, rubbing against the side of my naked legs…
“Wylder,” he murmurs. “What am I going to do with you?”
I’d like to tell him in specific detail what I’d like him to do to me, but I really don’t trust my words.
I pull at his shirt.
“I want you naked.” My voice is strong.
Jamie’s jaw tightens, and I can see how he’s fighting to stay in control. But I don’t want him to be in control. I want him to lose every rational thought.
Just like he robs me of my ability to think clearly, I want to do the same to him.
I should be freezing. I’m naked, standing before Jamie outside. The weather is by no means warm for LA standards, but I’m feeling the opposite.
“Jamie…”
He responds to the need he hears in my voice. He stands quickly and undresses before me. I’m only allowed to feast on his body for a few seconds before he picks me up again and heads to the pool.
“Skinny dipping?” His eyes smolder.
“Why not?”
He sets me down when we reach the edge of the pool, and before he can say another word, I do a perfect dive into it. It’s heated and feels wonderful on my naked skin. I move underwater for a second longer before standing up, letting the water splash down my back and allowing the tips of my breasts to surface for his pleasure.
He’s standing at the edge of the pool.
Fully naked.
Hard.
With a primal look on his face that wreaks havoc on my nerves.
I see a satisfied glimmer in his eyes before he too executes a perfect dive and makes his way to me under the water. I feel my heart pound in anticipation.
His hands snake out, and he pulls me up to his body when he comes up out of the water. His mouth crashes into mine. My legs come up and wrap themselves around his waist, the tip of his cock teasing me as our kiss becomes openly carnal.
