by Qwillia Rain
“I'm not talking sex here, Dane.”
A choked cough sounded from the booth near the door.
“We haven't had sex yet—” he said.
The glare Ariel sent DeeDee quickly smothered the waitress's giggle. “And we won't.” Her tone was firm, but Dane detected a hint of indecisiveness in it.
A few others around the room echoed Sadie's snort of disbelief. Ariel's glance around the dining room and at the customers seemed almost fearful. Her feet shifted, and her arms crossed over her chest. Color rose in her cheeks the longer the people around them watched her.
Dane didn't bother arguing with her; instead he mentally tucked away the clues Ariel's behavior revealed to him. Could his pixie be shy? Her reaction to the customers' attention hinted at a discomfort he hadn't seen from her before. His cock shifted, reinforcing how attracted he was to this woman. Despite her prickly nature, bossy mouth, and refusal to free her submissive nature to his control, the daily challenge of dealing with Ariel provided stimulation he'd rarely encountered outside the mansion's walls. Pushing back the edges of his suit jacket, he tucked his hands into his pockets. “If we aren't talking sex, then what order did I ignore?”
“The chocolate.”
The hum of conversation picked up around them once again as the diners returned to their lunches.
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He shook his head. “I ordered the chocolate four days ago. The supplier said it would be here today or tomorrow.”
“It showed up.”
“If it showed up, then what's the problem? I got what you asked for.”
“Bullshit. I told you specifically to get couverture,” she snapped, her voice audible over the quiet hum of conversations and the clink of silverware against china.
Heads turned and several sets of eyebrows rose on surprised faces. If she didn't acknowledge the curious faces around them, neither would he.
“I ordered—”
Ariel stepped closer. Her right hand rose to poke at his chest. “You ordered baking chocolate,” she accused in a disgusted tone.
The jabs from her finger didn't bother him as he tried to understand what the problem with the chocolate was. “So? Chocolate is chocolate.” Dane continued to ignore their audience.
The heat in her cheeks no longer seemed to come from any embarrassment at creating a public spectacle. The flash of fire in her gaze, the way her lips compressed into a tight, thin line, and even the way the knuckles whitened on the clenched hand she wasn't poking him with communicated her increased irritation. It appeared her anger overrode her discomfort at being on display. “Oh, and which culinary institute did you graduate from? How many hours have you spent in a kitchen? Do you even know the difference between couverture, baking chocolate, and cocoa?”
“Like I said, chocolate is chocolate.” His expression must have reflected his disinterest in her lecture, because her fervent explanation halted. The digit she'd poked into his chest along with the rest of the fingers wrapped around his burgundy silk tie and yanked his face closer to hers.
Snickers and some barks of strangled laughter erupted behind him.
“Lesson time, Master Reese.” Without releasing her hold on his tie, she strode around the counter, through the swinging doors, and into the kitchen, pulling him along by the improvised hundred-and-twenty-dollar silk leash. A few chairs scraped across the polished wood floors, but the doors stayed closed behind him. Dane assumed DeeDee and Sadie would keep the curious customers at bay.
He followed, more interested in the fire and passion Ariel displayed over a supply order than any damage she might inflict on his designer accessory. They bypassed the prep station, grill, and industrial double ovens.
The section of the kitchen she dragged him to was new territory. Situated in a far corner, it was out of sight of any observer who might look through the doors or over the order window. A slab of gray-veined white marble topped the central island. A smaller double oven gleamed with the same brushed-nickel doors as the double-sided freezer along one wall. A stove top with two burners on one side and a flat griddle on the other made him suspect this was where she created the decadent cheesecakes and delicious desserts that filled the small glass display case near the register.
“And what do you think you can teach me, Chef Valerian?” Hips resting against counter, he smoothed the wrinkles from his tie as she pulled open cabinets and collected two tins and a box.
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He looked too damned smug grinning back at her. Even a confrontation before a room full of strangers didn't faze him. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was dangerous for her. The temptation to sniff whenever he got close, to inhale the subtle blend of spices that clung to him, had Ariel constantly on alert to keep from acting like a bitch in heat. If he even suspected how turned on she got when she was within a few feet of him, there would be no stopping his natural inclination to dominate. Worse, she doubted she'd mind if she let him take control. Damn that fucking agreement she'd made. After twenty-four hours, her body still had yet to settle down since he'd conned her into their little challenge.
Worrisome thoughts aside, she put the box and tins on the counter next to him, every second fighting the urge to rub up against his solid frame. She could feel the burn of his blue eyes on her neck as she sprinkled cocoa from the first tin onto the marble surface. From the box, she shaved off a curl from one of the brown-black squares and set it on the cool stone. From the second tin, she broke off a small chunk of the tempered chocolate and set it beside the other types of chocolate. The everyday sounds of activity and chatter from the dining room created a soft background noise.
“Lesson number one, Dane: don't order the wrong products.”
He didn't bother to respond, but the amusement in his gaze seemed to mock her determination for him to understand.
Fine, she decided. If he wanted a demonstration, he'd get one. Holding his gaze, she sucked her right index finger into her mouth and wet it from the tip to the second knuckle with her tongue. She pulled it out and rolled it through the cocoa powder on the counter, coating her skin thoroughly before she stepped close and lifted it in front of Dane's lips. “Open up,” she ordered.
Still watching her, he separated his lips and allowed her to stick her finger inside his mouth. Her intention merely to wipe her finger over his tongue to let him taste the cocoa was quickly derailed when he closed his lips around her finger and suckled the tip. The warm clasp of his fingers surrounded her wrist as he held her hand still and prevented her from pulling away.
The rasp of his tongue over and around the captured digit stole her breath. Warmth pooled in her center, going south to stir the pleasure spot between her thighs before spreading upward into her breasts so the tips grew firm; her throbbing nipples pressed against the silk cups of her bra.
Around her hip, she could feel the heat of his other hand as he tugged her closer to him. The firm jut of his cock pressed into her belly.
Ariel forced down the desire that surged through her body, and pulled free. The pad of her finger scraped against the edge of his bottom teeth, and she tried to ignore the caress of his fingers over the palm of her hand as he released her wrist. She didn't step back. The fact he was as aroused as she could work to her advantage.
“Mmmm. Cocoa, right?” Dane whispered.
“Yes.”
Ignoring the tremor in her fingers, she picked up the curl of dark baking chocolate. She didn't have to say a word as she lifted it to his mouth. He opened, and she popped the morsel inside, then waited.
The grimace he made wasn't unexpected. Not many people liked the flavor of unsweetened chocolate.
“Yuck.” He choked and swallowed several times as he tried to get rid of the taste.
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“Unsweetened baking chocolate.”
“I get the unsweetened part.” Dane turned to eye the last bit of sweet on the counter
before he reached over and picked it up.
“Eat it,” she told him as she stepped out of his hold and crossed her arms over her breasts.
Cautiously he lifted it to his nose and sniffed before he put it in his mouth. A hum of appreciation rumbled through his chest as his lips lifted in a grin. “Mmm, milk chocolate.”
Ariel shook her head. “No, that's couverture.”
“It's good, but if you add a little more sugar to the recipe, the baking chocolate should be fine,” he offered.
Ariel saw red. “Do you know anything about the science of cooking?”
Dane shrugged, his expression unconcerned. “No, but what's the difference between the types of chocolate I ordered? Albeit the unsweetened stuff would take some—”
“God, you are such a guy!” Ariel stepped forward, shoved aside his jacket, and made short work of his belt before she unfastened and unzipped his pants. “Since you obviously aren't thinking with your big head, perhaps you'll understand this more.”
She didn't stop to think as she released the heated length of his cock from his underwear.
The feel of it in her hands sent her heartbeat tripping. Determined not to show weakness and to get her point across, she stroked the thick column of flesh, marveling at the soft texture of the skin, the golden brown color that matched the tanned skin on his arms, hands, and face, and the fact that her fingers didn't touch when they wrapped around it.
“What the hell are you—”
She ignored Dane's protest and the grip of his hands on her shoulders. On her knees, she wet her lips and then took the plum-shaped head inside her mouth.
“Oh Christ.” Dane's groan was so low, it was barely audible in the quiet kitchen.
Ariel's focus shifted. The salty-sweet taste of him intrigued her. She took her time, slipped her hand down the throbbing stalk, and swirled her tongue over the rounded crown. The grasp of his hands shifted from her shoulders to her head as she took more of him into her mouth. Pulling back, she looked up at him and reveled in the stunned expression on his face.
“Hands out of my hair, Reese.” She reached her free hand up to push his away.
Slowly he settled his grip onto the counter at his hips. All the while he kept his gaze on her. The wary look in his eyes imbued her with a sense of power. That she satisfied her curiosity and would sate the arousal building in her body at the same time she taught him a lesson only made the event that much sweeter. Ariel lowered her head back to his cock and lapped at the pearly bead of cum welling in the slit. The flavor was interesting, not like the taste of the boyfriend she'd practiced on years ago. Dane's clean, musky scent filled her nostrils as she swallowed as much of his length as possible. She made sure to keep the grip of her fingers firm over the part she couldn't take; each stroke up and back matched the pull of her mouth as she suckled.
The fingers of her free hand wiggled into the confines of his silk boxers to cuddle the heated sac of his balls. Above her, Dane groaned and cursed in tandem to the pull and release of her fingers and mouth. The tension in his body increased as she pressed her tongue against and around his flesh, laving and tasting the tiny pulsing veins and sensitive crest. Drops of saliva An Invitation: Ariel's Pet
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escaped her lips to roll down the length of his cock; each aided in lubrication as her hand stroked along his skin.
Her body ached for release: the tips of her nipples scraped against the bra cups covering them, her panties were wet, and she was on the edge of climax from the rub of the seam of her jeans along her sensitive clit. She had to stop, but knowing that was easier than actually doing it, Ariel realized as she sensed Dane's climax drawing near.
The lesson, she reminded herself. He must learn the lesson. Her body protested as she released his dick with a loud pop and pushed herself to her feet. Stepping away, she met his confused gaze, wiped her mouth, and drew a deep breath. “There's your lesson, Dane.”
He shook his head; his chest heaved as he fought to keep upright. The knuckles on his hands were white with the strength of his grip on the counter. “What?”
Ariel fought the urge to grin. Dane might try to act like nothing had happened, but the slight break in his voice and his ragged breathing when he uttered the single word assured her she'd made an impression. “Chocolate is like a blowjob. Couverture would swallow. With unsweetened baking chocolate, you've gotta finish the job yourself. Now get the fuck out of my kitchen.” She gathered the box and tins from the counter and moved on unsteady legs to the cabinet to put them away.
The blood pounding in her ears drowned out all but the slightest sound of a zipper along its track and Dane's soft curses as he strode out of the kitchen. One deep breath followed another, and she looked over her shoulder toward the sound of the door to the hall swinging shut, then sank to the floor. “I am so fucked.” If he ever figured out the hold he had on her, she'd never survive.
A shudder snaked through her body. Ariel couldn't help the chuckle that rolled out of her chest. “But what a way to go,” she admitted and dropped her head back against the cabinets.
“What a wonderfully wet way to go.”
* * *
It had been years since Dane had felt the necessity to jack off, but he refused to do it, even as he grimaced while lowering himself into the desk chair. Her little lesson had shown him a few things about his sexy nemesis. First, she wasn't afraid to make the first move. He winced as a caster bumped over an uneven lump in the carpet, the jarring particularly intense in the hard flesh pressed against the zipper of his slacks.
Second, her mouth was good at more than offering up snippy comments and cutting remarks. He shifted in his seat at the remembered suction and heat she'd applied to his flesh. She would be a tough one to handle, but he'd seen the yearning blazing in her eyes before she'd turned away. He hadn't been the only one left unsatisfied by Ariel's impromptu chocolate experiment.
Perhaps that was the way to best her. Dane considered how stubborn she was about the slightest alteration. Alayna had warned him Ariel didn't accept change well. A result of the sudden loss of their parents when Ariel was on the cusp of becoming an independent woman, he assumed.
Her misperceptions about his approach to Dominant/submissive relationships would take some correcting, which Dane doubted Ariel would be open to hearing. If it didn't suit her interpretation, she didn't seem inclined to amend her opinion. Stubborn as a mule, his 52
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granddaddy would say. But then again, Dane smiled at the task before him; he'd never found as much pleasure in dealing with training a sub as when he was faced with one who refused to recognize that part of themselves.
But there was another problem he faced, Dane admitted as he booted up the computer and accessed the invoices he'd scanned in earlier in the week. On the desk were two new ones that had arrived with the shipments dropped off earlier today or the previous day. Phone in hand, he punched out the numbers and waited for someone to pick up.
“Dane Reese for John Tobler, please,” he responded when the cheerful voice on the other end asked his name and to whom he wished to speak.
“One moment, sir.” The soft music floated through the handset as he ticked off the items on the shipping invoice and compared them to the electronic invoice he'd been e-mailed when the order was made.
“John Tobler.” The jovial tone didn't stem the irritation Dane felt as he identified the altered information on the documents in front of him.
“John, Dane Reese from Valerian's Root.” He kept his voice cool, professional. No need to give anything away. Yet.
“Mr. Reese, how can I help you? The shipment arrived on time, I hope?”
“It did, but there seems to be an error on your end.” Dane leaned back in his chair, hoping to ease the choke hold his trousers had on his cock.
“Error?”
Dane could swear he heard a warble of unease in Tobler's voice. Maybe Dane would have to take a look at past invoices from the company. For
right now, though, with his cock stiff as a post and no relief in sight, he'd focus on fixing the situation that prompted Ariel's little lesson.
“Yes, it seems unsweetened baking chocolate was substituted for the couverture I ordered.”
“That's hard to—”
“I have the invoices in front of me, John. I specifically requested couverture when I ordered the various chocolates for Miss Valerian's kitchen. Now you and I both know there is a distinct difference between couverture and baking chocolate.” Dane let a hint of disgust filter into his tone.
It resulted in the response he had expected from Tobler. “I do apologize, Mr. Reese. It must have been an error—”
“An error? I've looked at the invoices, John. You charged me for couverture and substituted baking chocolate instead.” Setting the papers down on the desk, Dane carefully leaned forward and grimaced at the protest his hard dick made to the shift in position. He wondered how tongue-tied the other man would get if Dane pushed his suspicions that this wasn't the first time an error had occurred, but he'd hold off. For now. “What I want to know is when can I expect the issue to be corrected?”
John gabbled, hemmed, and hawed for several seconds as Dane clicked through an assortment of invoices. A file in one section held several documents from Tobler's company.
Perhaps Alayna had noticed issues as well.
“I have a deadline, John. Miss Valerian has several dishes she's scheduled for specific days, and that couverture is essential.”
“I can see about shipping it out immediately, but we'd have to charge—”
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Dane's gaze narrowed as he opened the file and the invoices inside. Comments and notes were typed or handwritten on the scanned pages. “I don't think so, John. It wasn't our error that caused this particular issue, and I won't have the Valerian's Root charged for the incompetence of your staff.”
“I'm sure it was a simple mistake, but the cost of expressing out the items to you must be paid—”
