by Dee Carney
Ginger placed both hands on the cutting board, narrowing her focus until even the hungry pulse between her legs had been tuned out. She stared down Max and the cloche-covered dish he held. She tried to study his face for any clue about what might lie beneath the silver cover, but the handsome man remained stoic. He said, “And now the final journey begins. As before, as soon as I reveal the theme ingredients, you are to create a final dish. Judging will lean heavily on taste in this round, but creativity and presentation will still count. You will have thirty minutes. Are you ready, Chef Solomon?” Lee must have acknowledged Max, because Max then turned to Ginger. She refused to watch Lee in return, just in case the sight of those beautiful eyes or bitable lips jumpstarted her libido all over again. “And you, Chef Danielle?”
No, she wasn’t ready. Nausea rolled her stomach, and rioting nerves trembled her hands. She nodded anyway.
“Then, your theme—”
A sharp scream rent the air as the room went suddenly dark.
Ginger blinked hard. Blinked again. But the lights didn’t come back on. Nervous giggling and raised chatter lifted into the air within microseconds. The same amount of time it took her to finally realize what’d just happened.
“Son of a bitch,” came from her left.
She had to agree. Damned power was out.
Chapter Nine
Lee had been at Max’s often enough to be able to make his way to her side. Ginger stood where he’d left her, and it was his pleasure to slip his arm around her waist and escort her toward one of the exits in back. The audience used cell phones to light their way, and, following their cue, Lee did the same. She didn’t say anything until they were outside. “What just happened in there?”
He dropped his hand long enough to text Max before responding. “Looks like the entire neighborhood is out. Fortuitous timing.”
“You call this fortuitous?”
“You were about to get trounced by me, so yes, it was fortuitous for you.”
She laughed, which was the result he was going for, but he hadn’t expected the sound to touch him deep inside.
He honestly could no longer say he knew for certain he’d win. She’d proven herself formidable and not to be underestimated. If the theme ingredients strayed from the types of food found in his restaurant, he might lose. He needed dragon fruit, rambutan, or even pate a choux in order to shine. Something as mundane as raisins or even chocolate chips could do him in.
His cell chirped, and, lifting the display, he read aloud the reply to his query. “Tie breaker postponed til tomorow. 10pm. Plz pass the msg to Chef Ginger. Good luck.”
He wasn’t sure what the last line referred to exactly but decided to attribute it to the competition. And not about getting lucky with Ginger. Max had definitely been a little friendly with her toward the end, and he’d hate to think they might end up as rivals for her affection. Lee knew—knew with more certainty than he knew he’d win Food Fighters—that Max would be the loser. Ginger was his. Period.
“I owe you an escort home,” he said, directing her toward lights a few blocks away. There he’d wave down a cab and get them out of this kind of darkness. The darkness he envisioned for the two of them wasn’t pitch-black and full of uncertainty. Where he wanted to take her involved the low glimmer of candlelight and the thick shadows of bodies exploring and moving with languid sensuality.
“My shop is only now closing up,” she said into the stillness a few minutes later. City lights brightened the way. “I should probably get back and at least—”
Her sentence ended in a startled noise as Lee snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. Their chests collided, the contact stealing air through her parted lips. Lee’s gaze dropped to those decadent lips, warm and beckoning, and he finally gave in to the lust that had ridden him from the very first moment he’d seen this woman.
“Shh,” he whispered before his lips swept over hers. The moment they kissed, all the dark feelings and consuming lust for her rushed to the surface.
Lee opened her lips wider beneath his, accepting nothing but total surrender from the woman he’d craved for so long. She was the drug to his addiction, and he gladly used her to push him to a high. So when her tongue touched the tip of his, his cock responded with more than passing interest, and he greedily indulged in the intoxication. But then the noisy intrusion of car engines and honking broke through, a frustrating reminder that they still needed to get home first. He pulled away, gasping, pleased to see a glazed look in her eyes. “Don’t run from me again. Not now.”
“You’re right. I’m not running again.”
“Good. Then when we get to your place,” he said, voice low and rough, “I’m going to spread those legs and fuck that sweet pussy so good. Is it wet for me yet?”
She shuddered, nodding, his explicit words eliciting the desired effect.
He waved down a passing cab, his eyes never straying from Ginger’s. “Maybe on the ride there, I should make sure. Put two fingers inside you. Make you come while the driver listens.”
Her face flushed a brilliant scarlet.
But she didn’t say no.
Painfully turned on, Lee captured her mouth with his again, plunging his tongue inside, tasting and teasing. An insufficient demonstration of his desire for her. His hands strayed, exploring as much of her body as he dared. The memory of touching her was almost enough to make him lose control. The reality of here and now was so, so much better.
“Hey! You need a ride or what?”
Growling—scowling—he pulled up long enough to glare at the cabbie. He was close to panting, oxygen not nearly providing him the sustenance that kissing her had. But the longer he delayed getting them home, the longer he had to wait to be inside her. “Let’s go.”
Her mouth stung, burned by the force of his kisses. The roughness. The absolute possession.
Some part of her brain insisted that she protest. To let him know they hadn’t settled the issue of their restaurants. They hadn’t tried to solve how they could make it as a couple while they remained rivals. But then he’d sweep his tongue into her mouth all over again, and those thoughts scattered to the winds.
As the streets rushed by, the roadside lamps creating streaks of light signaling the passage of time and miles, she tried again. “Lee, if we do this…what happens tomorrow? To our businesses? To us?”
His hand continued to stroke over hers, as if touch was required to keep himself in check. The only tether on a need raging out of control. “Tomorrow is another day. We do this and focus on tonight. We focus on you and me, together. Tonight.”
“But tomorrow—”
Lee put a finger to her lips before staring into her eyes. His lips met hers in the softest, sweetest caress she’d ever experienced. By the time he pulled away, Ginger’s heartbeat shifted to downright lazy. “Tonight,” he said gently.
She didn’t know if it would be enough, but those butterflies of hers had settled, as if they knew something she didn’t. She didn’t normally treat sex so casually, wanting commitment beyond breakfast the following morning. But this was Lee. Beyond parking-lot wars, he was honorable. Trustworthy. She could loan him her heart for a single night and retrieve it intact the next day. Look at the way he interacted with her now, holding her close to him, one hand entwined with hers. His lips, generous to kiss, blazed a trail of heat over her shoulder. To her neck. Her mouth.
By the time the car had stopped, soft sounds spilled from her. Between every single kiss, Lee whispered his plans. Positions. Demands. Promises.
Her head spun with the possibilities, her knees almost too weak for support. Trying to retrieve her keys from her purse while he paid the driver proved an impossible task. She dropped them once, twice, until Lee finally rescued them from the stoop. He found the right key on the second try and slid it into the lock, the motion itself impossibly seductive. When they crossed the threshold a moment later, her heart hammered.
She went for casual, trying to act as if b
ringing him here wouldn’t affect her. Couldn’t. Despite tremors racking her limbs, she strode with casual ease into the small townhouse, flipping on lights, blazing a trail for him to follow. She heard as well as felt his presence, the warmth of him filling her humble abode with pure masculinity.
Hesitating in the small nook that served as her home office, she eyed the short hallway into her living room. The reality of what they were about to do thrilled her, but it gave her much reason to pause as well.
“We don’t have to go there yet,” he said. “And if you’ve changed your mind, that’s okay too.”
Ginger turned, Lee only two steps behind her. “What?”
“The bedroom’s up there, I’m assuming,” he replied, pointing toward the stairway with his chin.
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“Because you are moving toward any and everything but it.”
Stopping next to her desk, she ignored the heat crawling up the back of her neck, hating that he’d seen through her slow and unnecessary tour around the downstairs. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that…”
“Tell me.”
Her eyes met his. “You intimidate me.”
“Coming on too strong?”
“Not just that. It’s everything. I mean, look at you. Lee Solomon. The man who dates models and politicians. Who poses on the front of magazines. You’re used to Victoria’s Secret, while I’m all about functional Fruit of the Loom, you know?”
Lee moved to her, stopping only once he could cup her face in his warm hand. “Oh, darlin’, that’s about the funniest shit you’ve said all night.”
Ginger blinked, slightly embarrassed. A little amused.
“You and I are so much alike, and you just have no idea,” he continued. “Why do you think we get along so well? There’s more to me than lobster and caviar. Give me a chance, and I’ll show you.” Lee pressed a delicate kiss to her jaw before taking a few steps away. “Sex with me is raw, bold and dirty. It’s as far from refined as you’ll ever want to be. If that’s not something you want, no harm, no foul. We’ll go our separate ways, keep the bet going until a winner is determined. But, if you’re even the slightest bit curious, you only have to come to me. I’m right here.”
Heart pumping madly, Ginger didn’t think.
Her mouth was on his, hands moving to her clothing, before she could change her mind.
They undressed without speaking, doubt perhaps telling her not to give in, but desire promising more. She toed off her shoes, but together they slipped off the black slacks until she stood before him as an assurance of more to come. But when he moved to clasp her plain blue panties to reveal her nudity, she stopped him.
His heart sank, the disappointment a hard lump in his throat. Lee’s vision went dark at the realization she’d come to her senses. Probably similar to the senses he’d been furiously fighting as he touched, fondled and kissed her.
But then greedy hands languidly moved; slender fingers reached for his fly. Slid past. Grasped the rigid outline of an erection straining behind a zipper.
A hiss slid out as blinding pleasure seized Lee. And then she made quick work of exposing him to her hand, sliding the smooth skin of her palm against his cock. The moment she curled her fingers around it, his eyes squeezed shut.
So good. So goddamned good.
The best torture rolled through his cock as Ginger held him, sliding that talented hand up and down, hot skin gripping hot skin. Immobilized, he went cross-eyed and possibly blind—willingly—and enjoyed every eternal second of it.
The breath was stolen from him when she branded a smoldering kiss at the base of his neck, tongue sliding up until it touched his Adam’s apple. She sucked it gently into her hot, moist mouth, and the dual pleasures almost undid him.
Lee indulged himself, lost in the way she held him, in the way her tongue laved over his flesh. He threaded his hand into those silken blonde spikes, again surprised at how much softer they were than they appeared. Instead of focusing on her hairstyle, though, Lee tilted her head back away from him and captured her mouth with his. “Tonight,” he rumbled, voice rough. He prayed there would be another night. “I am going to take the time to learn every inch of your body.”
“I think you’ve got a pretty good start going right now.”
She had a point. He couldn’t get enough of her. Hands roaming her body, Lee reveled in stroking the gentle slope of her belly and the seductive curve of her waist. “Not nearly enough,” he muttered. “More.”
He wanted it all.
Ginger laughed lightly. “What more could you possibly—”
Whatever she would have said was swallowed by his hungry kisses. He feasted on her mouth, unable to sate his ravenous need. Following his urge, he kissed over her collar bone before sucking on the skin of her breast again. Lee dropped to his knees, coming face-to-face with the blue bikini he’d only glimpsed previously. He could have stayed there on his knees before her, ready to worship the lush curves of her body, but once more he gave in to the passion consuming him.
Ginger’s fingers caressed his jaw before placing pressure beneath his chin. He followed her direction, tilting his head back to meet her heated gaze. “Lee…” she said softly. It was a question and a command tumbled together. His intent to taste her, to make her cry out as he consumed her, must have been evident in his focused gaze.
But first, he curled his hands into the sides of the material, slowly dragging it down over thighs he would soon feel wrapped around him. Lee licked his lips—the taste of Ginger almost right there for him to swallow—and his heart nearly kicked out of his chest from the thrill of it.
Her feminine musk perfumed the air, and he breathed it in, filling his lungs to satiate the hunger burning deep in his chest.
His next kiss brushed the skin of her thigh. Swiping his lips over lush curves, soft and sensual and inviting. A worship of her.
His gaze drifted toward the object of his intent, his mouth going dry with anticipation as he stared at her mound. The blonde curls glistened near the center, a beacon for where he wanted to taste. To kiss. And once she trembled, unable to stand on her own power, he planned to bury himself balls-deep in the same place.
Going to one knee, he leaned forward, then inhaled deep again before skating his nose and lips over her inner thigh. The drag of his tongue along the identical path raised goose bumps across her skin. Lee didn’t take time to study her reaction, instead seeking and finding the little bundle of nerves standing pert.
Ginger inhaled sharply as he toyed with her clit, tonguing it with light flicks. “Lee.” A soft moan. “I’m about to crawl out of my skin… Stop torturing me and just do me.”
“Not the most romantic words, darlin’.” He nipped a tantalizing area, producing a startled yelp.
“I’m not going for romantic.” She sounded disgruntled.
“Yeah?” He loved the way her hands pushed into his hair, fingers curling as if she didn’t know whether to pull him closer or push him away. “Then neither am I.”
Lee kissed her then, his tongue dipping into her cunt, as blessedly sweet as anything he’d ever tasted. His head bobbed as his tongue fucked inside, inadequate replacement for his cock, which was thick and painful with the need for release. He spread those lush thighs, exposing all of her to his viewing and tasting pleasure, not stopping with the decadent kiss until she cried out and her legs trembled. “Lee!”
Smug satisfaction emboldened him while he watched the flush across her cheeks and chest begin to fade. “Turn around.”
Her brow furrowed, her chest heaved as she gasped for air. “What for?”
“Just do it.”
She turned, a protest already brewing in her mind. He could see it in the way she continued to frown at him, in the way she kept her gaze on him even when her position made it uncomfortable to do so. Ginger didn’t trust him down on his knees and out of her sight. Something he planned on using to his advantage.
“Wh—oh
.”
Behind her knee was sensitive, and the openmouthed press he placed there accomplished his goal. Her spine curved, hands gripping the table’s ledge in a white-knuckled grip. He dragged his mouth upward, lips and tongue gliding over her skin, and the sound she made went straight to the edge of his control. His dick hardened impossibly more, almost painful with the need for release.
Reining it in, he gritted his teeth before saying, “I have studied this ass for so damned long.”
The look she gave him over her shoulder was pure mischief. “You’ve been stalking my ass?”
“Every chance I got.”
A grunt. “It needs liposuction.”
“Bite your tongue.” To add credence to his words, he possessively splayed both hands over her cheeks, finding supreme pleasure in the cushion afforded him. He stood and leaned forward, pressing his cock into the crevice. It proved only a small relief. “This was made for fucking,” he muttered.
She jerked upright. “Exit only, buddy.”
“We’ll see.”
“I don’t think so—”
“Hush. Damn.” Pure exasperation. Hands gentled over invisible raised hackles, massaging them back into their previously languid state. She went willingly, bending over in invitation once again for him. He followed, keeping them connected. “You and me. At each other’s throats constantly.”
“If you wouldn’t—”
Tired of her constant back talk, Lee put her mouth to better use and kissed her soundly.
Chapter Ten
The assault of Lee’s kiss stunned her. The sensuality of it. The hot, wet slide of tongue on tongue.
She loved the weight of his body on hers, sheltering her. A dominant position for a male, draped over her as he was, but Ginger reveled in it. In the way the harsh lines of his body fit into the soft places of hers. Lee’s hand cupped her chin, a silent command to allow him to ravage her mouth, and her insides melted with affection.
By the time he removed himself, stripping her of the taste and feel of him, she almost whimpered with disappointment. But the kiss had left her gasping for breath, and she barely had the time to form a protest before he was back.
