Just Add Spice (The Spice Series Book 1)

by Calista Fox

  Her fingertips glided along his temple. “I loved you from about the first moment I saw you, Rafe. I still love you. I will always love you. Just you. Only you. Always and forever.”

  His heart nearly burst from his chest. His gaze didn’t waver.

  She continued. “But I’ll still leave.”

  “I know.” He moved away. Stood and poured another scotch, sipping it slowly. The alcohol helped to take the edge off. When he turned back to her, Jenna had a wicked look on her face. He was hard again.

  He stalked toward her. “This time, we do it my way. It’s called compromise.”

  Sweeping her up in his arms, he carried her into the bedroom and set her in the middle of his California king.

  On his knees between her parted legs, he hooked his forearms under of the backs of her knees and spread her wide. Her fingers rubbed her labia and then she guided his cock to her opening. He slid in and out of her, a slow, sexy rhythm.

  “So good,” she whispered.

  “Even more sensational without the condom.”

  “Yes.”

  She’d always been so paranoid about getting pregnant that she’d been adamant for the extra protection, despite the fact she’d also been on the pill years ago. He found it interesting that she’d changed her stance. But didn’t want to break the spell to inquire why.

  As he stroked her inner walls in a leisurely pace—though his heart pounded erratically—Jenna palmed her breasts. She squeezed them, then tugged on the hard nipples. He watched, excitement raging through him at the vision before him. And the feeling of her tight pussy encasing him.

  When she shifted one hand to the apex of her legs and rubbed her clit again, he had to put a shitload of concentration into not losing it. Watching Jenna pleasure herself thrilled him. She was damn beautiful, with a stunning body—and not an inhibited bone in it.

  “Rafe.” Her back arched, her hips undulated. She wanted more, and he was happy to oblige.

  His thrusts quickened until she panted loudly. Pleasuring Jenna was always at the top of his to-do list. Listening to her moan and watching her writhe drove him wild.

  She massaged her clit faster. He pumped harder into her. He leaned forward, his hands gripping her waist while his forearms still supported the backs of her knees, keeping her open to him.

  Jenna moaned. Her body bowed off the bed. “Yes. Like that. Right there. Oh, God, Rafe!”

  As she came again, she milked his cock with the clenching and releasing of her inner muscles, making him half out of his mind.

  When her climax ebbed and she wasn’t squeezing the life out of him, he detangled himself from her and propped himself up on an elbow at her side as he continued to make love to her. His other hand clasped her ass cheek, pressing her against him as he moved inside her. His tongue curled around a pebbled nipple and he sucked the bud into his mouth.

  “God, Rafe,” she murmured. “Everything you do to me is so amazing.”

  She wrapped a leg around his waist—fully knowing that always ratcheted his excitement.

  “I’m having trouble holding back,” he confessed. “But I want you to come once more.”

  His fingers grazed the cleft of her ass, stroking her from one hole to the other. Then he targeted the rim of her anus. She gasped. But didn’t tense up.

  “Do it, Rafe. Oh, God, please.”

  He pushed in a finger coated with her cream and she squealed in delight. He delved into the forbidden spot as he thrust deeper into her pussy. His tongue toyed with her nipple, and she made sexy, erotic sounds as her body thrashed beneath his.

  “Jen. Christ.” He pumped heartier into both holes. When she screamed his name and clenched his cock as she came, he erupted inside her, every single thought in his head coming to a grinding halt so that nothing but pleasure registered in his mind and tore through his body.

  He let out a low growl as he convulsed from head to toe. Endless moments slipped by while he reveled in the bliss.

  Finally, she asked, “You okay?”

  “Yeah, why?” He could barely breathe.

  “You haven’t said anything in a while. So unlike you.”

  He chuckled. “Drowning in euphoria. Let me enjoy it.”

  “I’m not rushing you. I like you being on top of me. Between my legs.”

  “My favorite place on earth,” he muttered against her breast.

  Her fingers combed through his hair as she laughed quietly. “You know, for the light bit of kink you enjoy, it always surprises me that you prefer missionary.”

  “Anything that allows you to wrap your legs around me. I’m convinced that’s their purpose in life.”

  She snickered playfully. “I had no idea they had such a high calling. I just thought it was so I could get around and see over the tops of most people’s heads.”

  “You add a couple inches to your stilettos and you could probably see over mine.”

  “No, thanks. I like gazing up at your devilishly handsome face and staring into your ocean-blue eyes.”

  “Careful. You’re starting to make me wonder again why you leave me if you like me so damn much.”

  She groaned. “I didn’t use the word like.”

  Rafe lifted himself up on both forearms, but didn’t move away from her. “I’m missing something else, aren’t I?” he asked. “It’s more than just walking into a huge family that you wished you’d always had and not knowing how to deal with all the larger-than-life personalities and their involvement in your personal business. Right?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, actually. If it were something simple, I’d be royally pissed off we couldn’t make our marriage work.”

  A dark brow crooked. “You’re not pissed off?”

  “No,” he was quick to say. “I was never angry with you. Frustrated and confused, yes. Angry? No.”

  “You’re not bitter, either.”

  He snorted. “I’ll go out on a limb here and admit I already knew, in the back of my mind, what Aunt Vesta told me today about holding on too tight to you. All of this really did suffocate you.”

  “Rafe. I’m used to being alone. That’s a huge part of the problem.”

  He withdrew from her and flopped onto his back. Staring up at the ceiling fan, he said, “You’re not alone, Jen.”

  “For two years I wasn’t,” she told him. “But the day I signed the divorce papers, I was alone again.”

  His head rolled on the pillow as he looked at her. A niggling thought tickled the back of his brain. But he couldn’t quite latch onto it. Damn, the hot sex was clouding his mind…yet again.

  Jenna said, “Let’s not spoil this evening, hmm? I don’t want to talk about the divorce. In fact, I don’t want to talk at all. I’m exhausted. And so incredibly relaxed from how many orgasms? I’ve lost count. But good Lord, I needed every single one. I just want to bask in the afterglow, Rafe.”

  “You’re staying here.” It wasn’t even a question in his heart or in his head.

  “I’m way too tired to go back to the hotel tonight.”

  “Stay here for the two weeks you’re in town, Jen.”

  “Oh, now, come on, Rafe.” Alarm flashed in her pale-green eyes. “That’s just self-inflicted torture—for both of us.”

  “I want you here.”

  He sighed. There he went again, being heavy-handed with his convictions.

  “Shit,” he mumbled. Then said, “I’m pushing too hard when I don’t mean to. Let’s start with tonight, all right?”

  “Okay.”

  Rafe knew he had to find out what else drove her away, other than her anxiety over his family. But for the moment, he was content that she was in his bed and agreed to spend the night. That, in his mind, was a tremendous coup.

  After tidying up in the bathroom, they settled under the covers, her shapely body pressed to his as he spooned her. He loved her skin against his. She was curvy and sexy and yeah, he was hard already, but he let her sleep.

&nb
sp; Unfortunately for Rafe, when he woke the next morning, Jenna was gone.

  “Like you didn’t see that one coming?” he muttered to himself.

  Chapter Six

  Jenna knew she’d suffer the Wrath of Rafe for slipping out while he slept, but she’d needed to get to the restaurant.

  As he stalked in, glowering at her, she held up her hand and said, “Let me explain.”

  “I thought you’d gotten it through that pretty head of yours that I don’t like it when you bail on me with no warning.”

  “You were out like a light, Rafe. There wasn’t even the slightest pause in your snoring when I left the bed.”

  He drew up short. “Did I keep you up?”

  “Of course not. I’ve always been lulled by the steady resonance. It’s a very sexy, rhythmic sound. Soothing, even.” She waved her hand in the air. “But that’s neither here nor there. I didn’t want to wake you because you really did seem to need a good night’s sleep. Something tells me you’ve had a few too many restless nights worrying about Sampogna’s.”

  He nodded. “I’ll concede that point.”

  “And, I had to shower and change so I could get here early, before your staff arrives. I needed to assess the restaurant while it was empty and quiet. I woke up with an idea burning a hole in my brain and I wanted to see if it would work.”

  His eyes narrowed on her. She cringed inwardly. Right. He’d be sensitive to the fact that the first thing she’d thought of this morning was work.

  Damn it.

  Clearly, there was something wrong with her.

  “Look,” she said in a softer tone. “I would’ve preferred to roll on top of you and coax you awake so you could make love to me, then have breakfast with you, but you really were a hardcore sleeper this morning. And my getting this restaurant remodeled is going to help you sleep better in the future. I wanted to get right to it.”

  He harrumphed. But said, “Nice rationalization. You’re forgiven.”

  “Thank you. Now, here’s the plan I want to run by you. Those four tops up front by the windows need to be romantic tables for two, with golden up-lighting built into the sills. A decorative wood-and-glass partition set just beyond a couple of the tables will shield them from the noise in the main dining room, and will also offer some depth to the restaurant floor plan.”

  He surveyed the space as she continued.

  “We need some intimate nooks and crannies. Given your window span, passersby on the street will be able to see the potential for a quiet dinner for two, an engaging dinner for four, or the accommodation of large groups farther back in the room.”

  Rafe nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  “These vinyl booths along the wall have to go. We need something more comfortable and inviting. Sofa-style. The center of the restaurant will be where we’ll seat the bigger parties. Then toward the back, we’ll create the perfect space for happy hour mingling. A more casual setting.”

  This seemed to pique his interest. “What are you thinking?”

  “Well,” she said as they walked to the far end of the room. “This bar needs to be moved from the center of the wall, because it leaves too much dead space on either side. We can have a more ornate one crafted and situated in the corner, with racks mounted to the walls to showcase Gio’s wine collection, and glass shelves for the liquor. Add comfortable barstools to complement the bar.”

  Rafe nodded again. “Okay, that makes sense.”

  “Then we scatter sofas and chairs, as well as end and coffee tables, throughout this area for the after-work crowd, and the tourists who just want to plop down in a cushy seat and sip wine, following a long day traipsing about town.”

  “And graze,” he said, a tinge of excitement suddenly lacing his voice.

  “I think the more polite term is nibble.”

  “Whatever.”

  “On appetizers?”

  “Not necessarily,” he mused. “They might not want the heartier portions we serve, especially if they’re hanging out for a while before dinner, wanting to socialize. Italian tapas would go over better. Smaller dishes at a third or even a quarter of the price of the larger appetizer offerings we currently have on the menu that cost upwards of twelve, fourteen dollars. That way, they can order a variety for a reasonable cost and sample the different plates—they’ll be easy to pass. We can also adjust the price and portion based on table size throughout the dining room.”

  “Excellent idea,” she said, impressed. “This spot in the restaurant will feel more like a wine bar. So let’s liven it up!”

  “Sure. And we could do something completely different from our regular appetizers.” He gave it some thought before rattling off a few ideas. “Individual crab-lasagna squares, toasted ravioli, duck confit, beef and salmon carpaccio, sausage and peppers on bamboo spears, prosciutto-wrapped asparagus... Hell, I could change up the tapas menu a couple times a week.”

  “Brilliant.” Her gaze shifted to the wall where the double-doored entrance was situated in the middle, off of the courtyard. To the right of it, in the newly designated happy hour section, was a tall fireplace. “When’s the last time that thing was turned on?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “The ‘70s? It’s never worked, that I’m aware of.”

  “We’ll change that.” Her attention returned to Rafe. “If you want. I mean, I don’t want to make any changes that don’t suit you.”

  He gazed around the restaurant, looking nostalgic as he said, “There are some things that remind me of my parents, when they owned Sampogna’s. But what you’re proposing doesn’t detract from that.”

  “Good. I don’t want it to. I know your taste, Rafe. You still want this to be a traditional Italian restaurant. And it will be. A little contemporary flare isn’t going to alter that. I’ll be very cognizant and careful.”

  His brow dipped. “I know that.”

  She smiled again. “You trust me.”

  “Trust was never an issue between us.”

  “Right. Well.” She drew in a deep breath. Let it out slowly. Then told him, “I have to get to the airport to pick up Tad. He’s over-the-rainbow excited about this job. I’ll forewarn you he can be a bit exuberant. And although he’s extremely professional and discreet, I have no doubt his tongue will be dragging on the floor when he gets a good look at you. He’s very selective, and you’re going to give him heart palpitations.”

  With a half-snort, Rafe said, “I want to give you heart palpitations.”

  “Oh, you do.” She closed the gap between them, kissed him heatedly and then whispered, “Never doubt that.”

  She collected her purse and the keys to the rental car and headed out.

  * * *

  “You’ve had sex, you little tart.”

  Jenna laughed, then kissed Tad on the cheek. “Repeatedly. I’ve lost track of the orgasms. The much-needed orgasms, I might add.”

  “I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist as they walked through the terminal at San Francisco International, his Louis Vuitton rollaboard whizzing along behind him.

  “Tell me we have a sleek limo with expensive champagne awaiting us,” Tad said.

  “Just me and my sardine-can, eco-friendly rental car.”

  “Hmm. You’re slipping, sugar plum.”

  Jenna beamed up at him. He was tall and strapping and gorgeous. Bald and brawny, with the most amazing, tawny-colored eyes. She’d never seen eyes like that before she’d met him. Perfectly sculpted lips and pearly white teeth. It was no wonder heads whipped in his direction wherever Tad went.

  Not only was he beautiful, he dressed impeccably in tailored designer suits. Even when flying all the way across the country. Today’s Armani creation was dark blue with ultra-thin pinstripes. He and Jenna matched fantastically as they made their way through the throng of people, who apparently couldn’t help noticing them.

  Lots of double takes and a number of requests for autograph
s later and they emerged in the parking garage. They stowed Tad’s carry-on in the trunk and then Jenna slipped behind the wheel.

  “So, Miss Lonely Hearts,” he dove right in. “Did you tell him about the job in New York?”

  “Yes. Rafe knows I’m leaving in two weeks.” And how odd that she felt like Dorothy, watching the sand run out in the Wicked Witch of the West’s hourglass.

  “He’s okay with that?”

  “Rafe is never okay with the things I do. Well, except… You know.”

  Tad laughed wickedly. “Do you tie that man up and tease him to the point of insanity?”

  “No, I pretty much let him do whatever he wants to me.” She spared another glance Tad’s way and snickered at him. “Call me what you will, but let it never be prude.”

  “I don’t get you,” he said as he shoved the seat back as far as it could go, to accommodate his long legs, and settled more comfortably. Relatively speaking. “You don’t talk about sex or the ex, and you haven’t seen him in three years. Yet two days with him and he’s already ravaged you?”

  “Many times over.”

  Tad eyed her curiously. She caught the look in her peripheral vision.

  He asked, “Does this mean you’re back together?”

  Ooohh, good one.

  She said, “I don’t know how we could be, honestly. Who am I to call anything a relationship, right?”

  Tad was silent a moment, then quietly said, “You have relationships.”

  “Professional ones, sure.”

  He didn’t say anything and something clicked in her mind. She stole another glance his way and said, “You’re right. I have a great relationship with you. For like, what? A gazillion years?”

  “Do not age me, sugar plum. We’ve been together for nearly a decade. Since that shithole of a dive you miraculously turned around in New Orleans.”

  “You were their best server and the highlight of the entire establishment. My God, the charisma you possess!”

  “I only did it for the tips.”

  “Liar. You can’t help yourself.” She smiled at him. “Things turned out great for that joint, but I know the patrons miss you dearly since I snatched you away.”