Deliciously British

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Deliciously British Page 37

by Scarlett Avery


  After cleaning up the glass room, taking care of last night’s dishes and then going upstairs to my bedroom to tidy that up, I hop behind the wheel of my Benz in search of food. An hour and a half later, I step back into my house with my hands weighed down. I head to the kitchen and drop the bags on the kitchen table before going back to my car to grab the flowers and the wine. “Damn, that wine is heavy,” I complain as I drop the bottles on the granite counter. No sooner has the blood started flowing in my right hands again that my phone rings. I drop the bouquet I’m still holding on to on the counter and stick my hand into my pocket to fetch it. I immediately pick up when I recognize Xander’s number. “Hey, mate. Are you calling to let me know you’ll be running late?” I ask, walking to the pantry to grab a bottle of water.

  “Thankfully I’m not. I should be all done within the next forty-five minutes.”

  “Was it a good recording session?”

  “It was. Courtney has an amazing voice. Once we give her a little more training on stage presence, she’ll be unstoppable.” Courtney Henderson is a talented singer he discovered on YouTube six months ago. When Xander showed me a few of the videos she had uploaded on her channel, I was blown away by her fierce lyrics combined with the kind of soulful, chocolatey voice that commands attention. Her cool fashion sense is definitely a plus that sets her apart. “I want us to go over the song we intend on releasing first to introduce Courtney to the world and then we’ll wrap it up. I don’t want her voice to get too tired since we’ll be at it again in a couple of days. If I get on the road by six-thirty, I should be home well before you get back with Delilah.”

  “That’s great news. I just walked in the door. I had a very busy afternoon, but I’m ready for tonight.” I wedge the phone between my ear and my shoulder to crack open a bottle of water.

  “You sound excited. What have you been up to?”

  “When it comes to Delilah, I’m always excited.”

  “Hear, hear,” Xander agrees.

  “To answer your question, I took care of the food.”

  “God save us all.” Joker. “Is my house now a pile of smoking rubble? Do I have to call the fire department or are they already on the premises? I suspect the bank and the insurance company will want to know about this.” The humor is thick.

  “Sod off,” I throw at him. “I’m fully aware of my limitations.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I was worried that your infatuation for Delilah might have caused you to suffer from temporary amnesia and make you forget that you have butterfingers in the kitchen.”

  “There’s no chance of that happening anytime soon.” We both laugh. “Since you’re stuck at work, I figured I’d get things started as best as I could. Charles is booked solid. I wasn’t as lucky as I was yesterday so I had to find another solution. Had you been home, I know you would have taken care of dinner. I might be the handsome one between the two of us, but you’re definitely the talented one in the kitchen.”

  “Careful there,” he starts with a warning tone. “I might take offense at that. I consider myself far better-looking than you.”

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes in the phone, knowing full well he can’t see me. “I’m actually paying you a compliment.”

  “Really? It doesn’t sound like it.”

  “As I was saying”—I ignore him—“your ability to prepare meals from scratch always leaves me baffled, and you’re equally gifted at playing around with the already-prepared options and turning them into something spectacular. I just don’t know how you do it.”

  “You either love it or you don’t,” Xander says in a matter-of-fact way. I guess he’s right.

  “Unfortunately, I don’t. Still, the responsibility for tonight’s meal fell on my shoulders. Sure, I could have ordered some takeaway, but I highly doubt that would seduce our little temptress. I decided to go for a tastier alternative.”

  “Which is?”

  If I try to do much more than prepare a cup of strong tea, toast bread or warm up something in the microwave, it usually ends in disaster. Xander might be exaggerating when he says I could have burnt our houses down to the ground, but not by much. Given my lamentable track record in the kitchen, I decide to rely on experts to dazzle our favorite Texan.

  “Purple House Farm.”

  “Brilliant idea. You can never go wrong with their flavorful comfort foods cooked to perfection.” Purple House Farm is a hybrid of takeaway eateries and catered meals. The food is prepared by professional chefs, but nothing is too fancy or overly complicated. It’s just simple and delicious and it keeps you coming back time after time. “So what did you order?”

  “Last night we had an American menu, that’s why I decided to go all British for tonight.”

  “A hearty shepherd’s pie or a tried-and-tested steak and kidney pie?”

  “Nope. Those are a little too homey and not sophisticated enough. I went for the roast barn-reared chicken with stuffing and golden crispy chips. I added a portion of garlic mushrooms and two of the salt ’n’ vinegar onion rings to the list—”

  “Bloody hell. Those things are sinful.” I can only imagine Xander licking his lips. “They’re my favorites.” As if I didn’t know.

  “That’s exactly why I doubled up on my order. The last time you and I nearly fought over them.”

  “A duel was the only way to determine who was going to have the last one.” Xander chuckles. “They’re that good.”

  “Damn right they are. I also popped by Le Boulanger to buy a few crusty baguettes. There’s no point in letting the savoury gravy sit idle at the bottom of our plates.”

  “That’s an incredible menu, mate. I’m already salivating.”

  “I’m not done yet,” I announce.

  “Really?”

  “Since Delilah has only been in the UK for a short time, I also decided to grab a few pork pies.”

  “I doubt I would go out on a limb if I were to say that there may not be a British meat pie more iconic than the pork pie.”

  “Which is exactly why I thought it was important to add them to the menu.

  “That was a brilliant decision. What’s for dessert?”

  “Very British as well. I stopped by Celia’s Pie in the Sky—”

  “Don’t tell me. Their Eton Mess?”

  “I always welcome strawberries, cream and port, but instead I went for their famous hedgerow pie with custard. We’ll serve that with a heaping serving of vanilla ice cream I bought from Melt in Your Mouth ice cream shop last week. Is there a better combination than a warm blackberry and blackcurrant pie with homemade-like ice cream?”

  “I doubt it. Another great call. You might be useless in the kitchen, but you ace the art of ordering out.”

  We both chuckle.

  “I didn’t stop at that,” I announce.

  “More food? At this rate, we won’t be able to move after we’re done with dinner.”

  “No. Something pretty and delicate like Delilah. Once I had the meal all sorted out, I headed to In Full Bloom—”

  “Great food, superb dessert and magnificent flowers? You definitely know how to treat a girl.” Until Adele, I never bothered offering a woman I liked flowers because I always assumed it was too cliché. Adele convinced me that along with unrestricted affection, a woman can never receive too many flowers—no matter how modern she is. “I’m sure I don’t even have to question the quality of the wine.” He may be mocking me, but he would have done the same thing had the tables been turned and I was stuck taking care of business.

  “Of course not. We only buy the best.”

  “That we do,” he concedes. “So what did you get?”

  “Sauvignon blanc, since it seems to be the national favorite. I also grabbed a couple bottles of Pinot Noir to drink with the chicken since you and I prefer reds to whites. If Delilah prefers the red, we’ll have enough. I also bought a bottle of merlot to enjoy before dessert.”

  “You’ve outdone yourself, Ethan.”

&nb
sp; “I want her to know how much we enjoy spending time with her. Our voracious appetite for her prevented us from taking things slow last night. I want to make it up to her tonight. I want to savor her before devouring her—well, that’s the intention, anyways.”

  “Let’s see how long that lasts, mate. After all, you were the one coercing her into waking me up with her lips wrapped around my cock.” Xander’s smart remark slaps me right across the face.

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want her. I’m simply suggesting we try not to fuck her before dinner.”

  “I’ve spent all day sporting an impressive hard-on that only gets bigger when I flash back to a few intense moments from our time together. I admire your resolve, mate, but I doubt I have that kind of willpower. I want to gorge on that woman to the point that I’m dizzy. I’m so fucking horny for her, Ethan. I’m warning you now, I’m already wired up and in this state, casual chitchat is the furthest thing from my mind.”

  “Jesus.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard Xander talk that way about a woman before.

  “I don’t know why you sound so surprised. I’m sure you’ve been walking around for the last few hours with a pulsating dick pressed hard against your trousers like I have. Do I need to ask if you wanked?”

  He knows me well. “It’s only fair since you were able to seek release this morning while I was at work.”

  We both laugh.

  “I rest my case,” he declares. “You’ve already shot your load. Mine is dying to come out and I have no intention on wasting it on my hand like I did this morning under the shower. I want my cum in her inviting mouth, dripping from her enormous tits or nestled between her legs. I’ll even be happy spewing it all over the perfect pale skin of her soft stomach. The bottom line is, I want her. Desperately. I was hoping work would distract me, but it’s short-lived. My mind drifts off to her any chance it has.”

  There goes my resolution to behave.

  CHAPTER 33

  Xander

  By the time I get back home, Ethan has already left. When I walk into my house, I head straight to the glass room to check out how all of his preparations turned out. As I stroll across the room, washed in late afternoon sun, I nod approvingly. He certainly outdid himself.

  Ethan’s table-setting skills are nothing to write home about, but then again neither are mine. That said, tonight he’s made a monumental effort. The large bouquet of red tulips with yellow tips set in a crystal vase enhances the mood. I have no doubt that later on, under the lights, the vibrant color combination will be magical. Strategically, he’s placed the flowers at the end of the table, making sure nothing obstructs our view of the gorgeous redhead we long for. It goes without saying that she’ll be sitting across from us so we’re able to appreciate her beauty.

  Everything looks so inviting. I head to Ethan’s kitchen to check out what he bought. I open his fridge and grin wide when I see the bags from Purple House Farm and Celia’s Pie in the Sky. It’s going to be quite the feast. I walk to the granite counter to check out his wine selection, but I get distracted. My eyes zoom in on the bread sitting so temptingly next to the bottles. It’s definitely calling out my name. I take a step forward, determined to ignore the call, but I can’t. It’s impossible for me to resist. It always has been.

  I pull back the paper sleeve of one of the baguettes, tear off the end, lift the glass lid off of the butter dish, slather a generous amount of butter on the piece of bread I’m holding and pop it in my mouth. Mmmm. I chew with the same kind of devotion I would have had I been eating a five-star Michelin meal. Ever since I was a kid I’ve had this little ritual. It’s as if I can’t attack the rest of a baguette until I’m done with the ends. I rip the other end and do the same thing. Once I’m done, I move onto the second baguette. A few bites and I’m done. I doubt I’ll ever grow out of this. Happy and satiated, I tuck the bread back into the sleeve and tiptoe out of Ethan’s kitchen like a bandit escaping from the scene of the crime. Ethan hates it when I do that, but I just can’t help myself.

  Satisfied that my best friend has set the stage to seduce Delilah into losing herself to another evening of carnal debauchery, I head back to my place to take a quick shower and to change into something more comfortable than a suit.

  * * *

  From the top of the staircase, I already know Delilah and Ethan are back. Her honeyed drawl already has my cock on alert. How does she keep doing that to me? Contrary to this morning, I didn’t allow myself to succumb to temptation. Even though my body was begging for me to fist my cock and pump until I came, I didn’t give in. I kept my shower to cleanliness only. The more turned on and hungry I am, the better it will be for Delilah. I also know Ethan will enjoy it far more if I take her like a fucking animal.

  When I walk into the room, I stop for a few seconds. In awe, I drink in the curvy woman who I already know I’ll fight hard to resist as long as I can tonight. Her sense of style is undeniable, but tonight she’s breathtaking.

  “Hey.” I tap Ethan on the shoulder on my way to Delilah.

  “You did make it back in time.” He smiles.

  “I had a good reason to,” I say, focusing my attention on the redhead standing next to my best friend. I take a step closer to her, drop my hands onto her shoulders, pull her closer to me and kiss her softly on both cheeks. “You look ravishingly beautiful tonight. Your make-up is flawless. I quite like your hair up like this,” I say, brushing a strand behind her ear. It will make it even more fun later when you let it down so it can cascade all over your tits.

  “Thank you,” she gushes.

  “The vibrant colors of the flowers printed on your skirt match the bouquet Ethan got for you.” She’s wearing a black skirt with bold colorful flowers printed all over it. The shades go from bright orange all the way to purples, blues and pinks. The way the skirt fits her tightly at the waist and gradually widens towards the hem brings even more attention to her inviting hips. I’m certain that will look better off than on.

  “I was just commenting on that. Those tulips are absolutely magnificent. Thank you again.”

  “I was stuck working all afternoon. This”—I wave my hand toward the table—“is all Ethan.”

  “Get off it, mate. This place would have looked like it came off of the pages of BBC Good Food magazine had you been the one taking care of things,” Ethan mocks.

  “Well, I appreciate the gesture,” Delilah says. “I’m very touched. If you guys keep spoiling me like this, it’s only going to go to my head.”

  “Get used to it, love.” Ethan takes a step closer and closes the circle. Our circle. “We shower you with attention and gifts because you’re worth it.” He’s absolutely right. Ethan punctuates his sentence by dropping a soft, quick kiss against her lips. I love it when one of us is kissing her while the other one is still embracing her. Ethan pulls away from her, but keeps the back of his hand pressed against her cheek.

  “Wow.” It’s only one word. Still, it’s laced with uncertainty.

  Ethan takes a step back to better take her in before speaking. “You are, love,” he affirms.

  She precedes her words with a one-shoulder shrug. “I guess I’m just not used to it.” She lowers her gaze. She worries at the side of her lip in a way that makes me just want to take her mouth into mine.

  I place two fingers under her chin and lift it until our eyes meet again. “What did Ethan just say?” I ask, drawing my eyebrows together.

  “Okay, I’ll make an effort to get used to it.” She laughs nervously. “The tulips are truly gorgeous. I can’t get over how the lovely aroma permeates throughout the room.” She inhales while closing her eyes. The blissful expression on her face is so serene.

  “Funny,” I say. “I thought the enchanting smell was your perfume.”

  “I can vouch for the fact that it’s absolutely hers, Xander. Don’t get me wrong. The tulips have a lovely fragrance like flowers usually do, but during the drive here I was immersed in her scent. My car will smell as delightf
ul as she does for days.” Ethan chuckles.

  “Oh.” She blushes furiously. “You have a way of leaving me speechless.” Trust me, we have a few dozen more under our sleeves, which we intend to put to good use right after dinner.

  “And to think I haven’t even started praising those sexy-as-fuck sandals you’re wearing.” I noticed those immediately. How could I not? The strappy black high heels display her painted pink toes to perfection.

  “I need the height. I’m so short compared to your towering statures. I feel like a midget unless I’m wearing four-inch heels—and even then I only hit your chests. Since I knew I wasn’t going to walk around, I decided to go a little higher today. These are five inches, but look”—her gaze shifts from mine to Ethan’s—“you guys are still much taller than I ever will be.” Five fucking inches high? Damn. No wonder her calves pop so beautifully.

  “You wear them well, sweetheart.” I want those strapped to your feet when you have your legs swinging over my shoulders as I ram into you. The naughty thought crosses my mind, but I don’t say it aloud. It’s too early to frighten her with my insatiable desire for her. The lust beating on my bones is off the charts even for me.

  She breaks our embrace and takes a step back. Her eyes drop down to the floor, forcing me to do the same. She extends her foot out and twirls it. I swear I hear my best friend growl low in his throat. Christ, the way she does that is so sexy. It takes everything in me not to cup my aching balls. “Ethan likes them as well.”

  “They are the first things I noticed when you got into my car, love,” he confirms. Those are exactly the type of sexy heels he loves to worship. Frankly, they have such cock-hardening power to them, I might just drop to my knees and do a little worshiping myself.

  “You guys have to stop saying things that make me blush like this.” When the rosiness of your cheeks travels down your chest, blankets your tits and coats your soft stomach, I lose all control. “I still can’t get over all these compliments.”

  “You have such an effect on us,” I say. “For instance, I already know that the top you’re wearing is going to be incredibly distracting to me. Honestly, I doubt I’ll be able to focus on anything else all evening long.”

 

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