He met and held her gaze in obvious challenge. The corner of his mouth turned up in a knowing smile. He had her in a corner. She’d never been able to resist him and she hated to back down in an argument.
She stalked toward him and gripped the edges of his waistcoat, lifted onto her toes and kissed him. His mouth was hot and sweet, the taste of cognac still on his tongue. She was hungry, but not for food.
His hands cupped her face, chocolate sliding over her skin. “You ruined my suit.”
“Then perhaps it would’ve been cheaper to let me have the dessert.” She wanted to kiss him again. Her heart was thumping hard and it wasn’t just the chocolate that was melting; any resistance she might have had was gone. She wanted to do more than kiss him.
“I’ll let you know when the dry cleaning bill comes in… I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.” His fingers pushed into her hair. “You are going to have to do better than a kiss.” He tugged on her hair, forcing her to her knees.
Her fingers slid down his waistcoat, leaving more marks, but she maintained eye contact, refusing to let him think that she was beaten and would submit—he liked the spark of anger, that is what she’d give him. He wouldn’t see how much she wanted this. He didn’t need to know that this meeting had been on her mind all afternoon and that she’d looked forward to being alone with him.
The raw lust in his eyes surprised her though; the blue was dark and dangerous like a stormy sea. She’d understood the lust years ago, before she married, before two kids had altered her body. That it was still there was like a shot of strong liquor. It burned and tingled in all the right places. She wanted him and here she could have him.
Her hands slid lower to his pants, knowing this suit cost more than most of their employees earned in a month, probably two. She swallowed as she traced the ridge of his erection. “Just damaged your pants too.”
“Then you’d better make it worthwhile.”
She tried to draw away but his grip on her hair was firm. He was smiling, daring her to call an end to this game. All she had to do was agree the truffle was off the menu and that as owner he got the final say, no matter how famous she became.
But she enjoyed these little arguments as much as him.
It was why they always had a private meeting. She flicked open the button and dragged down the zipper. In the quiet of the empty restaurant it was too loud, but her stomach tightened in anticipation. She was sure her panties were getting damp.
His fingers made small circles against her scalp, but he didn’t pull her closer; he was watching her, waiting.
“Perhaps you should be the one on your knees, thanking me for making Edesia such a success.” She tugged his briefs out of the way, freeing his cock. It jutted forward toward her mouth.
“I’ve agreed to the second restaurant.”
She’d presented the idea and he had agreed after some discussion—she remembered that meeting all too well—although the location was still up for debate. Again, she could’ve found another backer or taken the risk herself, but neither had appealed. She knew him and they worked well together. Footprint would be their next success.
This time he used the pressure of his fingers on her scalp to draw her closer, close enough that the tip of his cock brushed her lips.
She licked the slit in the hot, smooth head. “Enough?” She knew it wouldn’t be, but she wasn’t going to make this easy. That would be no fun.
“I’ll let you know when it’s enough.” There was a definite glint in his eyes. He was enjoying this, perhaps too much. “Unless, of course, you concede?”
Never. She wrapped her fingers around him, stroking his length before taking him into her mouth. It had been a while since she’d done this. At home it was simple and quite often rushed, trying to squeeze it in before the kids realised what their parents were up to. This was different.
She could take her time, caress his cock with her tongue and lips, swallow his length and suck as she eased back. While his fingers remained firmly in her hair, he didn’t take control; it was, however, a reminder that he easily could if he wanted to. That thought sent a tingle of excitement through her body.
As she worked he shifted his stance, his hips moved in time with her touch. When she glanced up he was still watching. For a moment she held his gaze. Her tongue circled the ridge around the head; her lips caressed the sensitive skin as though she was sampling some exquisite candy. The salty taste of his arousal coated her tongue.
Would he let this go all the way?
Desire heated her blood. She wanted him, to feel him inside her. Her core clenched. He’d stop…wouldn’t he? She could stop this. Instead she took him deep into her mouth, his grip tightened for a moment, then she drew back slowly, her gaze still locked with his.
How much would it take to make him come? Is that what he wanted this time, to see her swallow? It wouldn’t be the first time, but he’d never left her aching and unsatisfied. She was determined to not rush. This was time they stole from their real lives.
Her hand worked over his length and his breathing deepened. He was holding back, making her work for it.
Bastard.
But her panties were damp with excitement. It wouldn’t take much for her to come. A touch, maybe two. Would it be his tongue, his fingers or his cock?
She gave him another slow lick, aware that he was watching everything…and able to see straight down her ample cleavage. Her heart skipped a beat. Surely he wasn’t thinking of that…of coming on her?
With a snarl he released her and stepped back.
She might have laughed at the sight of him so obviously dishevelled—his shirt untucked, his cock thrusting out of his pants and chocolate on his waistcoat—if it didn’t make her want to finish stripping him.
Heat writhed in her belly as the need to fuck him took over, but she waited. This was his game and he had control. He grabbed her upper arms and hauled her up, his mouth closing over hers with an intensity that shocked her, even though she’d seen it in his eyes.
That he could want her, overweight and looking so plain, was a powerful aphrodisiac.
His lips were firm and demanding, his tongue seeking hers out. She gave in, melting toward him. His hands slid from her arms to the edge of her tank. He tugged it up and then pulled it off. The delicate lace of her bra left little to the imagination. Her nipples were hard ruched peaks straining to break free. His gaze lowered and his fingers traced the edge of the lace, before gliding lower to circle one nipple.
“I should tease you the way you tease me.”
“I would’ve finished.”
“Would you?”
She would’ve, but she didn’t want to, not now. She wanted to feel his cock pressing into her pussy.
He reached around and undid her bra. It fell on the floor. That bra was part of a set that was worth more than she’d paid for her first car, and he’d barely noticed.
Yet she’d worn it in the hope that he would.
He pressed one finger into the truffle, then brought the finger to her breast and drew a line in chocolate to her nipple. “I won’t wreck your lingerie.”
Was he still upset about his suit? Perhaps next time he should wear jeans, although she knew they weren’t cheap and destroyable either. Her clothing was. It had to be. There was no way she was taking expensive clothes into a commercial kitchen.
He lowered his head to the chocolate and licked. “I’m beginning to come around to the truffle.”
“I knew you would.”
He gave a low laugh and licked her nipple once, before drawing it into his mouth. Her back arched and she gasped. His other hand was on her lower back, steadying her. The heat from his palm and the heat of his mouth tumbled through her.
When he kissed her again, there was no gentle caress. His teeth raked her lip as his fingers undid her pants and shoved them down her hips—he didn’t stop to appreciate the lacy panties beneath as they got yanked down in one move with her pants.
“Hands on the table.” But he was already turning her to face the uneaten food. The lopsided truffle mocked her. She shouldn’t have thrown it at him, but she didn’t regret it one bit. Not when it had started this.
She spread her fingers over the white tablecloth. His ring glinted in the candlelight. Behind her, he trailed his hands over her butt, then down the back of her thigh before tracing up the inside of her leg to caress the swollen lips of her sex. She shivered and it had nothing to do with being almost naked and cold.
He pushed two fingers into her slick core and her hips jerked. “You liked sucking my cock.”
There was really no point in denying so she kept her mouth closed. There had been something arousing about being on her knees, but it had been the way he’d watched her and wanted her. The way he wanted her now.
He removed his fingers and his hands gripped her ass cheeks. Her breath hitched as the head of his cock nudged at her entrance and then he thrust into her pussy in one hard stroke. She gasped, but he held onto her so she couldn’t move. He filled her completely, and for a moment she wasn’t sure she’d be able to breathe again.
Then he started moving. Slow deep thrusts that made her knees weak, her climax was so close. She just needed to touch her clit. Tension throbbed between her legs, and his thrusts became harder. She moved one hand, but he caught it and pressed it to the table.
Now his body was against hers. The buttons of his waistcoat were cold as they pressed against her skin, and his movements were shallower. She wanted to throw him off and go back to the hard possession that she’d had a moment ago. He kissed the back of her neck, his free hand slid around to cup her breast and pinch her nipple before going lower.
Her breathing became shaky as his hand moved over her wobbly tummy. The stretch marks might fade but the skin was never quite the same again. It was softer. She hated it. His fingers brushed over her mons then between her labia. When he touched her clit she jumped.
“Sensitive? Not getting enough?”
She closed her eyes. It never seemed like enough. “No.”
His touch softened to a gentle caress. He was barely moving inside her now. She wanted to feel him. She tried to move but was too trapped.
“You can move once you come.” His fingers kept moving as if they knew exactly what it was she needed. The tension wound tighter. “I want to hear you come.”
She whimpered, so close. Then her climax was racing through her body. He released her hand and, as promised, let her move. She met him thrust for thrust, her body still sparking with the aftershocks.
He groaned and pulled out. She glanced behind…he wasn’t done yet.
Fraser turned her around to face him, one hand around the base of his cock. “You need to finish what you started.”
What she had started? He’d been the one to take off his ring: game on.
Her legs were still shaking, but she dropped to her knees, her pants around her ankles. His cock thrust forward, ruddy and slippery with her juices. She swallowed, her heart bouncing high in her throat as she reached for him. Her hand glided over him, and she knew that it wouldn’t take much. He was thick and hard and ready to come. With every touch his cock twitched.
“Your mouth.”
She tasted herself on him. He groaned as her mouth encased him. His hand rested lightly on her head, but this time he didn’t press. She sucked and took him deeper.
“Christ, you’re killing me.” He closed his eyes, his hips moving as he thrust into her mouth.
She cupped his balls and pressed the sensitive spot just behind. His hips jerked then her mouth was flooded with his salty cum. She swallowed and kept sucking and stroking until he was done.
After a moment he pulled away. His breathing was rough and he was looking at her as if he couldn’t quite decide what had just happened. Fraser tucked himself away and straightened his clothes, this time making no comment about the chocolate stains.
He helped her up, taking a last kiss before finding her bra and tank on the floor and handing them to her.
“You can put the truffle on the menu. Autumn only, then we reassess.”
“Okay.” She watched as he put his wedding ring back on. He paused to rub the chocolate off the metal, then he stopped as he checked the time.
“Damn it, I’ve kept you late. Didn’t you promise Eva you’d be home in time for bedtime?” And just like that, the game was over. Fraser was back into parent and husband mode.
They were trying to hold onto who they had been, when they barely had time to keep up with the present. She bit back the sigh and wished she could have him for a little longer before he was stolen away. Before she was dragged back to the demands of her life. When had they got so busy?
“Yes.” And she didn’t want to disappoint their four year old again. “I’ve got to clean up.” She pulled her tank on. There was a pile of dishes to be done and the table to clear and she wouldn’t leave the mess for someone to clean up at the start of their shift. By the time she got home, both of their daughters would be asleep. She rarely got to put them to bed. And while she knew the nanny would take care of it, she wanted to be there. She didn’t want to be one of those society mothers who let nannies raise the kids.
She started gathering up the plates, an ache between her legs and her mouth still tasting of sex.
Fraser put his hand on her arm. “Go, I’ll clean up. It’s my fault we ran late. You looked tired and I wanted to get business out of the way first.”
Then business had become pleasure, the way it always did when they got some time alone. And she wouldn’t trade it. She loved the little games they played. If they didn’t make the effort to schedule in time they’d never see each other…and if some of those meetings required a little role-play, well, that was something new they had discovered while trying to get their sex life back after two kids in four years.
“It’s okay.” It was her responsibility to clean up.
“No, go home, Meagan. I know how to do dishes.”
She hesitated. They were long past the time when Fraser had needed to do dishes. When Edesia had first opened they’d often been short of funds and short-staffed. His parents had warned him that restaurants weren’t a good investment and had refused to allow him to use family money, so he’d fronted the funds himself. There’d been many occasions when he’d worked in the kitchen washing dishes. To this day she was sure that no one knew the man they were shouting at to move it was actually the owner. He’d just knuckled under and done it.
Fraser wasn’t scared of hard work. It was one of the reasons he was so successful.
He leaned in and kissed her cheek. Then licked her skin; she’d forgotten about the chocolate on her face. “You know that truffle is really quite delicious. I felt really bad lying to you…but you arced up so nicely that I couldn’t resist.”
“I was just playing along.”
“Liar.” He whispered in her ear. “I’ll see you at home.”
After putting Eva and Tilda to bed, Meagan had taken a long shower. She needed to spend more time with the girls. They would only be little for such a short amount of time, but if she stepped away from the restaurant…restaurants…then everything else that went along with being Meagan Bissett, chef and businesswoman, would crumble. Even before Fraser had swept in like a prince from a fairytale to grant her desires she’d had to work hard and be better than the male chefs, just to get noticed. Even now she had to fight for every guest spot and she was still judged on her family and kids. Did the male chef’s kids ever get talked about? No.
She dried off and sucked her stomach in.
She needed more than three sessions a week with her personal trainer.
Did it matter if the male chefs were rotund? No.
She slipped into a nightdress, pale pink and slinky. She rubbed the fabric between her fingers. She was so far from the girl who’d travelled Europe on a shoestring, working under some of the best chefs. Her kids would never have to worry. They could chase their dreams a
nd know that their parents had the funds to back them. Although Fraser had said that if either of them wanted to be a model, they were on their own. He expected them to use their brains the way he and his brothers had been forced to. There had been no family handouts until they’d proven themselves. Mr Nichols was a force to be reckoned with and his wife had been terrifying. The first time Meagan had met them she’d wanted to hide. But they’d loved her. The only thing they didn’t tolerate was laziness.
What would happen if she did stop?
She’d go crazy trapped in the house after two days. Arranging fundraisers for charities didn’t excite her, although she often attended and contributed. Working was part of who she was.
She just needed a better balance.
“You look concerned.” Fraser leaned against the bathroom door, dressed in just his shirt and pants. She shouldn’t have put chocolate on his suit and yet she had to fight to keep the smile off her face at the memory. “You’ve changed your mind and decided we do need to remodel?”
She shook her head. “In a few more years. I can’t face it right now.” She knew some women who insisted on updating their house every couple of years. Their renovations were worth more than the house she’d grown up in. She still looked at money in terms of what she’d had growing up. That was her reference to normal. None of this was normal. It was extravagant and luxurious and she loved it…but sometimes it was like she was living someone else’s life.
He sighed. “Neither can I.”
“Do you ever think we are too busy?”
He frowned and looked away, a lock of dark hair falling over his forehead. “I feel that if I step back my life will keep going without me doing anything. After working for twenty years, I’m not needed.”
“That’s not true. I need you.” She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him. Not with the heat and lust of before, but with the simple need to feel her husband in her arms for just a few moments.
“No you don’t. You are your own success.”
Secret Confessions: Sydney Housewives - Extended Edition Page 19
