His to Taste

by Winlock, Jacqueline

  I wasn’t sure if he was an early riser so I knocked gently. After waiting for a couple of minutes, I finally turned the doorknob and found that it was unlocked. I tentatively slipped inside and found a note on the island in the kitchen.

  Good morning, Lynn.

  I apologize that I’m not up yet to greet you on your first day, but I had a late night of inspiration. Make yourself at home in any of the guest rooms upstairs to the right of the staircase. I’ll probably be up at around 10am. I’m in the mood for something sweet for breakfast so surprise me like you did yesterday.

  -- Jake

  Well, I suppose that was an anticlimactic start to my new job. Still, I could appreciate that he was giving me a chance to acclimate to his home in a leisurely fashion. It was definitely less nerve-wracking to be able to poke around without the pressure of him watching me.

  I crept up the stairs as quietly as I could with my suitcase in tow. The cream carpet along the hallway was lushly thick and seemed to be pristine. I tentatively peeked into a few bedrooms and finally settled on the last room at the end of the hall by the bathroom. It was the smallest room and I felt comforted by the size and the simplistic warmth of the decor. I would have felt miserably out of place if I had picked one of the other larger bedrooms as they were ornately decorated. The last thing I wanted to do was to make assumptions about my station in his household, and his actual guests deserved more lavish settings.

  The modest bedroom offered a neat twin size bed, a vanity, a small chest of drawers, and a moderately sized closet. I still had a couple of hours before I had to start preparing his breakfast so it was nice to take advantage of some spare time to put away my clothes and toiletries. I set my laptop on the nightstand next to the bed to charge while I would be working.

  As I puttered about the room, I wondered where Mr. Cochran’s quarters were located. Would his bedroom be ornate or rustic? Did he sleep naked? Would he sleep on his firm belly or flat on his broad back? The more I fantasized about his sleeping habits, the more I started to feel that familiar warm ache deep in my pussy.

  God, I was barely into my first day of work and I was already succumbing to my naughty thoughts. I was so tempted to pull up one of my erotic stories online, but I resolutely stamped down the impulse, and headed back downstairs to the kitchen to start my prep work for his breakfast.

  After rummaging through his pantry and fridge again, I found some ripe bananas, a loaf of sweet eggy brioche, plenty of eggs, and a package of bacon. Once I started the coffee maker, I beat some eggs with milk, vanilla extract, cinnamon, and nutmeg. I tossed a couple handfuls of pecans to toast in a pan, and sliced up the brioche. As soon as the nuts were prepped, I caramelized some sugar in another pan, whisked in some cream and a pinch of salt, and threw in some sliced bananas and a couple dashes of dark rum. When the bananas were soft and nicely incorporated into the caramel rum sauce, I lightly scrambled some eggs with a bit of cream and plenty of salt and pepper. While the eggs were cooking, I finished the French toast on the griddle, and fried up some bacon strips.

  I had just barely finished plating everything when Mr. Cochran sauntered into the kitchen and slipped easily into his customary seat.

  “Good morning,” he said. His welcoming smile warmed up his handsome face and I felt my knees wobble. “What do we have here?” He took a swig of freshly squeezed orange juice as I sprinkled the toasted pecans on top of his French toast with a flourish.

  His dark brown hair was still slightly tousled from sleep, and he hadn’t bothered to change out of his forest green plaid pajama pants and plain white t-shirt. I gulped silently when I saw the outline of his broad pecs under his shirt and the flex of his strong bicep as he lifted his glass from his lips.

  “I made you French toast with a banana pecan caramel rum sauce, scrambled eggs, and bacon,” I said, quickly pouring him a mug of fresh coffee. “Is there anything else that I can prepare for you, sir?” Besides my naked writhing body on a silver platter, that is.

  He shook his head, took a forkful of eggs, and paused. “Have you eaten yet?” He watched me intently as I leaned forward to wipe down the back counters by the sink.

  I dared a small, shy smile and said, “Not yet, Mr. Cochran. I was planning on eating after you finished your breakfast. Please don’t mind me as I tidy up the kitchen, but I can always take care of that later if it would be a bother to you, sir.”

  He shook his head again and said, “The only thing that bothers me is the fact that you’re standing there starving while this delicious meal is getting cold. Dish yourself up a plate and come sit with me. You wouldn’t make me eat alone now, would you?”

  Oh, lord, he wanted me to sit there and stare at his beautiful mouth and lightly furred muscular forearms and piercing blue eyes and...oh, damn. I stiffened my spine and said, “Thank you, sir, but I, um, don’t think that it would be appropriate for me to do so. Thank you all the same, though.”

  A slight frown creased his forehead and he looked taken aback by my polite refusal. “Lynn,” he said. “Are you already disobeying a simple request on your first official day?” He leaned back against his chair and sternly crossed his muscular arms across his thick chest.

  I blanched a little at his reaction and mumbled, “I...um...that wasn’t my intent, Mr. Cochran. I just thought that it might be best that we maintain our...um...professional boundaries.” I twisted the kitchen towel in my hands and avoided his gaze as best as I could.

  “Have I demanded that you do something unseemly?”

  “Er,” I managed to squeak. “No, Mr. Cochran.”

  He continued to stare at me with that piercing blue gaze. “Do you agree that an employer may share an innocent meal with an employee?”

  My palms became increasingly sweaty and I was grateful that I was still clutching at the towel. “Yes, Mr. Cochran.”.

  He relaxed a bit at my admission, and uncrossed his arms. “Lynn,” he said. “My intent was to have us sit and chat so that we could begin our partnership on friendlier terms. If we’re going to be sharing living space, it would make sense that we have some basic knowledge of each other’s background so that we’ll both be comfortable. I don’t intend to utilize you as if you’re some kind of anonymous cooking robot to be hidden away as the hired help. Will you indulge me in this one request and see how we can move forward?”

  I couldn’t necessarily argue when he put it in those terms, and I grudgingly nodded my compliance. After slowly hanging up the towel, I pulled out another plate from the cupboard and piled on a small portion of everything in case he might want seconds. I poured myself a cup of coffee, added a bit of cream and sugar, and joined him at the table. He pulled out my chair for me and smiled when I finally sat across from him.

  “Now, was that so hard?” he teased. He finally started digging into his French toast and groaned appreciatively as he tasted the still warm caramel rum sauce.

  I nibbled on a crispy bacon strip and reluctantly returned his grin. “I’m sorry for being difficult, Mr. Cochran,” I said. “I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to treat me as anything other than as your hired help. You’ve given me a wonderful opportunity as it is already, sir.” I took a sip of coffee and peeked up at him over my cup.

  He carelessly waved off my gratitude. “Things will go a hell of a lot easier around here if we can stand to be in the same room with each other, you know. You’ll learn quickly that I’m a rather private person. I like to focus on my work and I have the luxury of being able to enjoy the peace from working at home.

  “With that all said, I do appreciate having you here for some companionship as well. Your presence will help me refrain from regressing into a snarling recluse. Now tell me more about yourself as we enjoy the best breakfast I’ve had in years.”

  I could feel my cheeks redden slightly at his praise and I felt the tension gradually leave my body. He busied himself with his rapidly disappearing food which gave me time to compose my thoughts.

  “Well,” I beg
an. “There’s not really too much to my story. I grew up relatively nearby in Goleta and was raised by my maternal grandparents. My folks passed away in a car accident when I was very little so I don’t remember them too well. I was lucky that my grandparents were wonderful. My grandpa passed away during my second year at Santa Barbara City College so it’s just been Grandma and me for the past few years.” I paused to take a couple bites of food.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, his tone gentle and solemn. “I was an only child myself. My parents divorced when I was quite young so my mother raised me alone. Once my father remarried, he cut off all contact with us and I haven’t heard from him since. My mother only recently remarried and she moved to San Francisco with her new husband to be closer to his extended family.” He paused to take a sip of his coffee. “What was it like being raised by your grandparents?”

  I quickly swallowed a mouthful of eggs and bacon, and said, “They were loving and warm, but strict and terribly old-fashioned. I mean, I understood where they were coming from, but it was torture for a young hormonal teenager.” My lips curved in a rueful smile as I played with my slice of French toast.

  “I wasn’t allowed to date, much less even have a male friend over for a study date. If a boy called me on the phone, I had to have my conversation in front of one of them. Eventually, most of my male friends figured it wasn’t worth the hassle. Once I started college, they didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of living on a co-ed campus so they demanded that I commute from home.

  “By then, I noticed that Grandpa’s health was deteriorating so I figured it was best for me to help Grandma with his care and with the household chores anyway. Actually, it’s because she didn’t want me to work late hours that it was difficult for me to find a job while I was still in school. My lack of on-the-job work experience has been my constant thorn in my side with seeking employment since I graduated.” I shrugged nonchalantly and said, “And, well, here I am now cooking for you.”

  He assessed me quietly for a few moments and said, “Regardless of the circumstances, I’m glad that you ended up here. You’re young yet and you’ll have plenty of time to gain work experience. In the end, it all boils down to doing something that you love, but in the meantime, being gainfully employed to pay the bills is certainly helpful while you’re exploring your options, right?” He finished his last bites of food and sighed in contentment.

  “Thank you for a wonderful meal and for indulging your tyrannical boss’ whims.” He stretched languidly, his tall solid frame flexing under his well worn lounge wear.

  “As much as I’d love to continue this interrogation, I ought to get back to work. I’ll shoot you a text when I’d like to have my next meal. Feel free to get accustomed to the rest of the house, and you can use your spare time as you wish. I’ll be in my office if you have any questions.”

  I gulped down my own coffee and quickly stood up at attention. “Yes, Mr. Cochran.” I began clearing our plates as he made his way through the doorway and down the hall towards his office.

  I could hear the laughter in his raised voice as he said, “I’ll have you relaxed around me soon enough.”

  Shaking my head in exasperation, I couldn’t help smiling at his playfulness. I loaded up the dishwasher and finished cleaning up the kitchen. After poking through the fridge, I made a mental note of some potential lunches I could offer him. Once I was satisfied that my workspace was spotless, I took his advice and started checking out my new home for the next thirty days.

  The living room was spacious and boasted a huge entertainment center with a massive flat screen television and accompanying receivers, speakers, and video game consoles as per his gender. There was a large cushy ivory sofa and matching chairs and ottomans. The steel coffee table and side tables were sleek and shiny. Although the overall effect was cleanly modern and minimalistic, he still managed to make it look lived-in and warmly inviting. There were framed photographs of himself and his mother interspersed with expensive looking paintings.

  I wandered down the hallway and peeked inside a large room that appeared to be his personal gym, complete with a state-of-the-art treadmill, elliptical, rowing machine, plenty of weights, and a weight bench. I suppose if I’m going to have some spare time on my hands, then I might as well start getting acquainted with this room, especially if I’m going to be cooking lots of hearty meals for a manly appetite.

  The next room was closed off, and I could hear his muffled voice on a phone call. I definitely wouldn’t be bothering him in that room. The next door revealed another bathroom, and the last room revealed a warmly decorated library. There were bookshelves lining two walls from the ceiling to the floor with plenty of comfortable well-loved easy chairs covered in cashmere throws. The large bay windows offered plenty of natural sunlight, and there was a cozy electric fireplace. Besides the kitchen, I knew that this would be one of my favorite spaces in the entire house.

  After reluctantly tearing myself away from the library, I wandered out to the backyard and marveled at the lovely manicured grounds. There were plenty of fruit trees and lovingly pruned flower beds. The patio was elegantly simple and there was an invitingly huge hammock swaying gently in the morning breeze. I could easily picture myself lazing around under the warm sun with a refreshing strawberry margarita in my hand. It was a such a shame that Grandma would never see this enchanting garden.

  I felt much more relaxed in my own skin after spending some time outside. The sun’s rays were revitalizing and I took a few deep breaths of the sweetly scented bright pink camellias and soft violet tulips. I strolled back into the house and made my way upstairs into my new room.

  Now that I felt more confident with my cooking, I reexamined Mr. Cochran’s guidelines in the contract. My main duties were cooking and maintaining my workspace in the kitchen. I was to eventually create meal plans for him and I was in charge of the groceries, of which I could either do myself or order online to be delivered. Since he hired a cleaning service and a gardener to come in every two weeks, I wasn’t responsible to maintain the rest of the house. He had strict orders to ensure his privacy.

  Everything was reasonable and I felt grateful once again that I had found such a wonderful position. I just needed to loosen up with him so that I wouldn’t have to endure a repeat of this morning’s debacle.

  It would be so much easier if I was more comfortable socializing with an attractive man. Although I don’t have a whole lot of work experience, it doesn’t take a freaking genius to know that getting argumentative with your boss is a sure-fire way to get immediately booted out the door on your ass.

  There was no reason for me to even be suspicious in the first place. Mr. Cochran wasn’t sleazy or rude or snobby; in fact, he had been a complete gentleman since we’ve met...well, if you didn’t count his presumptuous comments yesterday. Still, given that I was technically straddling his thigh and smooshing my tits against his chest, I suppose that any reasonable person would have to give him a pass for that little exchange.

  The more I thought about how wickedly sinful his body felt against mine, the more tempted I was to indulge in another dirty story online. He probably wouldn’t text me for at least another hour or so, right? I slipped a hand into my panties and eagerly opened a new browser window on my laptop.

  Jenny Williams was a bright and promising college student in her final year of her undergraduate studies. She was petite with 34D size breasts and a slim figure. With her light brown curly hair, pouty pink lips, and soft green eyes, she was angelic and innocently lovely. She was also speeding 25 miles over the speed limit because she was running late for class.

  She chided herself for waking up late again which had forced her to roll out of bed and jump directly into her car without changing out of her outfit from the previous night of bar hopping with her roommates.

  Jenny’s lush breasts were barely contained in her tight purple tube top and her ruffled black miniskirt left most of her long legs bare. She and her roommat
es had been celebrating a friend’s birthday and the theme was naughty schoolgirls. Jenny had thought it was hilarious to capture every stereotype, but she was regretting her dedication to her outfit when she realized that the harsh sunlight revealed too much of her intimate assets.

  Her braided pigtails had fallen apart haphazardly in her sleep, but she didn’t have any extra time to throw on some panties, much less to fix her hair. Her makeup was only slightly smeared, but she had been able to salvage it as best as she could during red lights.

  Just as she turned onto a quiet side street for a shortcut, she noticed a hidden patrol car behind a building and tried to tap at her brakes to slow down, but it was all in vain. Her heart thudded in her chest as she watched the officer in her rear view mirror turn on his lights and pull out to follow her.

  “Oh, shit, shit, shit!” she cried, as she pulled over to an empty lot. Jenny parked her car and nervously gathered up her license and registration. She tugged down her skirt as best as she could and waited anxiously for the officer to approach her.

  Officer London whistled quietly under his breath when he saw the black SUV come tearing down the road. This area wasn’t his usual beat, but he had been taking a quick break in between calls. His tall brawny frame filled out his uniform quite well. With his handsome face, dark blond hair, and warm brown eyes, most perps made the mistake of assuming that he was just a pretty boy, but they never made that mistake twice. He pulled up behind the SUV and turned off his lights. Noting the license plate, make, and model, he took his time getting out of his patrol car, and sauntered over to see the speeding driver.

  As he came closer, he smirked when he realized that it was a typical sorority girl heading home from a walk of shame. This could be a fun morning, he thought.

  Through her side mirror, Jenny watched the officer head towards her and was surprised to see how attractive he was; he looked like he had just stepped out of a bachelorette party movie as a stripper cop.