by Amelia Star
The waitress appears again at that moment, and we turn to our food. Ted reminds me only a few more times over dinner to take off my restaurant owner hat and relax like the sexy vixen he finds me to be.
I am actually feeling slightly more relaxed by the time we leave Luigi’s. It’s warm outside, and the streets are a bustle of activity. We walk along the sidewalk for a while, following the sound of the crickets singing in the evening.
I take off my shawl, and Ted turns to face me. “You look amazing in that red dress. You are amazing, Hailey. Come out with me again–on a picnic next weekend.”
“Two Fridays in a row off–” I start to protest. But Ted puts a finger to my lips.
“You deserve it–yes, time to relax and enjoy.” The night is fading around us, and the streetlights are shining down, spotlighting the hopeful look on Ted’s face.
Once again, I can’t resist. “Yes, I’d love to spend next Friday with you.”
Ted leans in and softly kisses me on the lips to seal the deal. People keep flowing around us on the crowded sidewalk while I’m lost in the kiss, lost in the taste of cabernet sauvignon on Ted’s full lips.
I’ve lost track of time when he stops and says, “Until then.”
“Mmmm-hmmm,” I agree, and we take hands and walk down the sidewalk enjoying the summer evening.
THREE–TED
It’s Friday afternoon–the day for our picnic. That’s all I can think about while Hailey and I are making spaghetti at Rosewood. Hailey started coming to the center Monday, and we’ve been enjoying the more relaxed mood here. Things get so busy at the restaurant, we don’t always have time to talk like we do here.
We’re in the kitchen at Rosewood, getting the late-afternoon meal for the kids ready. Everyone else is in the recreation hall, where Sarah’s leading the kids in a yoga and meditation class.
“Wait till the little munchkins get a sight of this,” I say, lifting the lid on the simmering spaghetti sauce.
Hailey steps close beside me and leans over the big pot. The powerful aroma of tomatoes, basil, and oregano–with the five pounds of real ground chuck that Hailey brought with her today–waft out into the kitchen.
Hailey smiles and then tilts her head. “I can tell by the aroma, it’s going to need more oregano. Hand me that spoon.”
I pick up the spoon on the counter. Instead of handing it to Hailey, I dip it into the sauce and hold out a steaming half-spoonful for her to taste.
“Careful, it’s hot,” I say, then sneakily, in a conspiratorial whisper I add, “But not as hot as I am for you.”
Hailey laughs and takes the spoon, but doesn’t move away from me. She delicately blows across the sauce and sniffs it carefully. Her eyelashes flutter, and she looks up at me almost coyly as she puts the spoon in her mouth. “Oh, yes. This is just right. No more oregano necessary. I’m loving it.”
I’m salivating by now, and it’s not for any spaghetti sauce. “And I’m loving you.” I can’t restrain myself. I take her in my arms and pull her strong yet soft curves close to my body. We fit together perfectly, and I press my lips to hers. She tastes heavenly–like more than spaghetti sauce. She tastes like my dream come true.
But someone could come into the kitchen at any moment. Still, I can’t stop. Something about Hailey makes me feel like I’m losing control.
The kiss goes on, getting deeper and more passionate, until we hear clapping in the recreation room, bringing us back to reality.
“Well, you hot-blooded man,” Hailey moans. “I always knew you were a fast talker. But you know me. I have to see you in action before I–”
I smile, still pressing my whole body to hers, certain she can feel the swelling of my cock against her hip. “Before you what?”
“Before I show you this—I was going to wait until we went on our picnic after we leave here.” She pushes up the left sleeve of my t-shirt. “Ever since you showed me your scar, I have to admit, I was a little bit astonished.”
“Oh? Why’s that? It happened a long time ago–it’s not that big of a deal.”
Hailey pauses. “Well, take a look at this.” She rolls up the right sleeve of her light summer blouse.
My eyes go wide. “That’s incredible.” I can’t believe I’m looking at a mirror-image scar like mine. How could this be?
“It seems we really are meant to be together,” Hailey observes.
“But tell me–how did you get your scar?” I ask.
Then the clapping starts again in the recreation hall, and we pull apart when Serena comes in. “Oh –” she pauses and looks us over with her deep brown eyes seeing everything. “Was I interrupting something?” She smiles a tiny smile.
“You’re fine,” Hailey answers, blushing just a little. She looks irresistible when she blushes, but I will control myself.
“You two might as well get heading out. That picnic isn’t going to wait forever,” Serena says. Hailey and I let her in on our plans a few days ago.
So I go over the instructions to finish making the spaghetti noodles with Serena while I crank open the metal curtain over the serving area between the kitchen and recreation hall.
A few kids clamor up to the counter. “What smells so good?” Franklin asks. “Are we having something special tonight?”
“You’re having something very special tonight,” Sean answers, coming into the kitchen to help Serena with the final preparations.
“Well, Hailey and I are on our way now,” I announce, taking off my apron and hanging it near the door.
Serena nods and waves.
“Thanks again, Hailey, for all the supplies!” Sean comes over and talks with Hailey a few minutes about the donation program they’re working on with restaurants in the St. Louis Loop area.
“With this meals program getting started, we’re even going to be able to work on a remodeling project next, I’m hoping.” Sean is getting excited, telling us about his ideas of having Sarah’s friend paint the rec room soon.
Serena interrupts him before he gets going too much more, though. “Hey, Sean, could you give me a hand with buttering this bread?”
“Oh, right—of course.” And he goes to help her as Serena winks at Hailey and me, making a nod to the door for us to get going now while we have the chance.
When we enter the recreation hall, the kids stop putting away their yoga mats and all together give Hailey a big cheer of “Thank You.” They applaud, and we realize that’s what they were rehearsing for a few moments ago.
“I think they like you,” I turn to Hailey and say.
“Well, I kind of have a soft spot in my heart for them, too, as a matter of fact,” she answers. And she smiles that smile that goes straight to my heart every time.
FOUR–HAILEY
After following Ted to what he called his little hide-away in the middle of St. Louis, I get out of my car and follow a trail past a wide stream. Ted carries the cooler the whole way under the late afternoon sky. It’s hot out—but not as hot as it was earlier this week.
So far I’m just enjoying watching the muscles bulge on Ted’s arms as he hauls the cooler to this special location he says he’s picked out for us. All I need to carry is a bag with a few things for setting up our cozy picnic.
We turn a bend in the path between high grasses of this restored savannah, and Ted announces, “Here it is.”
“How charming!” It’s a very small stone amphitheater set in the hillside further downstream from the wide waters we passed earlier. We follow the stepping stone path to the stage alongside the edge of the water.
Ted sets the cooler on the uneven stones and takes the bag from my shoulder. “Now, Hailey, you just relax and let me set up everything.”
Feeling a bit lost without some way to occupy my hands, I try to insist, “But there’s got to be something I can do….”
Ted takes my hands and walks me to the stone seat. “You’re always arranging things, in charge at work, and having to make sure everything is under control. Well,
now it’s time for you to let go of all that and let someone pamper you.”
I give in. “If you insist—”
“I insist.” Ted smiles and bends down, tilts my chin up, then kisses me softly on the lips. Oh, his full lips—they have the power to rouse a deep desire in my heart, and the spicy aroma of his skin takes over my senses, making my heart beat faster.
“Now, you just enjoy,” Ted says. He opens the cooler and gets busy setting up our little feast, spreading a cloth on the grassy area behind the first tier of seating for the little amphitheater.
Before I know it, before me are containers of scrumptious-looking foods and even a glass of wine.
“To the lady who deserves a night off.” Ted raises his glass and we toast.
Then he’s serving me, starting with a watermelon, tomato, and feta salad.
“This looks beautiful!” I exclaim.
Ted holds out a forkful of the flavorful combination, and I take the bite he offers.
“What do you think?” he looks anxious—even more than he did the first time he made the Glazed Salmon for me at Delicious for You.
“This is marvelous—there’s a touch of honey, isn’t there?”
“Yes,” Ted confirms. “And the juice of a lime.”
“Mmmm. Good.”
“I’m so glad you like it,” he says as he leans in for a kiss.
“Oh, my, that’s the most scrumptious.”
“Yes, you are, Hailey. But I have more for you.” He opens another container. “Try this. This potato salad has olive oil, white wine vinegar, and Dijon mustard instead of mayonnaise.”
“Perfect for a summer day,” I say as Ted offers me a bit of the second course, then tops it off with another kiss. This time, however, he’s kissing me on my neck while I finish chewing.
“Oh, Ted! This is crazy! Are you just going to devour me while I eat all the fabulous dishes you prepared?”
“Well, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” he replies.
“Come on, join me,” I insist. I hold up a biteful of the potato salad, and he takes it.
Then we get started at the same time on the Ham Sandwiches on his homemade biscuits with Dijon-Strawberry Mustard. Washing them down with the wine, I’m feeling about ready to stop when Ted reminds me to save room for dessert.
“And what I wonder is for dessert?” I ask. “Could it be your mother’s special recipe…?”
“You guessed it, it’s her world’s greatest Stove-Top Peach Cobbler Cake.”
“But now it’s your world’s greatest Stove-Top Peach Cobbler Cake,” I say.
Ted smiles and opens the lid to his grand finale. “Next time I make it for you, we’ll have it hot. Today, it’s going to be without ice cream, though, so you can savor its flavors on their own.”
Ted places a serving of the cobbler on each of our plates, and we indulge.
This whole experience is overwhelming my senses. The smells of all the foods, the tastes of the special ingredients that make each dish unique–and the smiles of Ted, his laughter, and each time he reaches out to touch me, moving me inside to want more of him.
“Okay,” he sighs, leaning back on the grassy area behind the stone seat. “Now it’s your turn.”
“My turn?” I ask, baffled. “I thought you said this is my night off.”
“Well, actually, I’m not going to let you off completely. You see, I’m still waiting for you to finish your story.” He reaches out and touches my right shoulder, lifting the sleeve of my blouse.
“Oh, right.” I take the last bite of his truly fabulous cobbler and chew for a moment, thinking where to start. “Ted, you may not believe this. It’s really an amazing coincidence how I got my scar practically the same way you did, in a kitchen accident. I was twenty-one when I had my accident. I’d just learned to make Bananas Foster and the rum sauce was ready to be heated until bursting into flame—”
“Don’t even tell me you let it burn too long.” Ted’s eyes go wide.
“Oh, no, it wasn’t quite that bad,” I say shaking my head. “I just didn’t pull my hand away from the burner quickly enough and some sparks jumped up to my sleeve, which caught on fire–very briefly. Fortunately, my friend Lisa was standing by and doused me with the bottle of water she had. Still, we had to rush to the hospital for treatment.”
“Well, well.” Ted shakes his head. “That is just astounding–two mirror-image scars, caused by a similar kind of accident.” He stands up and walks around to face me. Kneeling down in front of me, he pushes up my shirt sleeve and kisses my scar.
“We were just meant to be,” Ted whispers.
“You really believe that, Ted? Despite the difference in our ages?”
“Hailey, I’d pick you any day over some ditzy twenty-year old who doesn’t know anything about real life. You know what you want, and I like to think that’s me. I mean, I could ask, are you sure you want to be with a guy who doesn’t drive a fancy car or live in a nice part of town?”
I shake my head. “That’s absolute nonsense,” I state definitively. “The last thing I’m thinking about when I’m with you is what kind of car you drive.”
“See? We could sit here and play this game all day, asking each other if we’re good enough to be with each other. But what a waste of time that would be. I can think of something better to do.” Ted kisses my lips. He nibbles on my ears, and kisses me down my neck.
We fall back on the grass between the amphitheater tiers and the kiss deepens. I want this to go on forever. I want Ted to take me here.
But he raises up on an elbow and says, “Listen.”
The sound of crickets surrounds us. Night is coming on, and Ted looks me in the eyes. “What do you say we get going?”
“That’s probably a good idea,” I say a bit distractedly.
Ted starts packing everything up, but then stops a moment and looks at me. “Don’t even think about it.” He turns and gives me a raise of the eyebrow.
“Think about what?” I turn my gaze from the fog rising off the water on the stream.
“You’re thinking about Delicious for You, aren’t you?”
“Oh my gosh, Ted–that’s not at all what I was thinking about.” I laugh.
He gives in and admits, “Okay, so maybe I’m not a mind-reader after all.” He pauses and reflects. “Or, maybe I am….”
“Okay, go for it. I’ll give you another shot. What am I thinking now?” I put my long fingers to my temples and pretend to concentrate.
Instead of answering me directly, Ted takes me in his arms and kisses me passionately. An owl hoots in the distance. “What I think you’re thinking,” he growls in a low voice, “is the same thing I’m thinking. If we should go to one of our places and –”
I purr, “Mind-reader.”
And he kisses me again.
FIVE–TED
Fifteen minutes later, we’re at her place, in her dim-lit living room.
Hailey is so strong and vulnerable at the same time, and I can’t help but get lost in the intense stare she gives me as we go to sit on the sofa.
But I’m not the kind of man who hesitates or waits for the woman he loves to make the first move. So I take charge, even though somewhere in the back of my mind I can’t forget she’s my boss.
We’re beyond the point of my asking her for permission, and I lean forward and catch her lips on mine. The kiss is searing hot from the start. We’ve been aching for this night for so long, I know it now. She kisses me back urgently, her strong arms wrapping around my shoulders.
When I slip away just an inch or two to catch my breath, I take a moment to gaze at her expression. She looks relieved, happy, and… yes, aroused. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s staring at me with her sexiest bedroom eyes.
“I can’t believe we’re finally here together,” she purrs, and I chuckle at her words because I feel the same way.
“It’s the perfect moment, boss,” I tease her hotly, but before she can reply with any witty banter, I kis
s her again. Our tongues begin dancing together, and we are both ready to complete our love tonight.
We begin to slowly, achingly, help each other undress. There is urgency in her touch, but I don’t let her rush. I want to taste this moment fully. I want to feel her skin under my fingertips as each piece of fabric is tossed aside.
As she removes my button-down shirt, she stares at my chiseled chest and bites her lip in evident delight.
“My god, you are in good shape,” she praises me–though I know she means something else. Something naughtier. I grin at her as I easily unhook her bra, and take an instant to admire her full, round breasts. They are perfect, and her pale skin underneath my dark hands is just as arousing as the feeling of her nipples pressing against my palms.
I squeeze her breasts softly, and she lets out a tiny moan–the first of many. I pinch her nipples, and she bites her lips, giving me a sensual look.
Kissing my way down her curvy body, I see her close her eyes and inhale deeply as I roll my tongue over her neck, tasting her musky perfume. I nibble on her ears before traveling further down, peppering her breasts and nipples with a million kisses.
But that’s not where my journey ends. I keep moving down, down, down, until I find myself between her long, sensual legs. And there I drop anchor, sinking my head between her inner thighs, and lapping the arousal from her pussy.
She moans in delight, and I hear her humming with arousal as I begin to use my lips and tongue to bring her to the realm of ecstasy. I nibble playfully at her sensitive clit, making her hiss lightly and press the top of my head down harder.
I bite her again, but softer this time, before beginning to suck on her sensually. My lips are wrapped tightly around her clit, and I hear her moan deeply as I keep on pleasuring her.
No way am I going to rush my way through her pussy–I’m focusing on her clit, folds, and entrance equally. I want her to slowly make her way to an orgasm, and I have no hurry to get her there.
Bit by bit, I feel her breathing more irregularly–but slowly, gently. It’s a tantalizing trip to the top of the mountain, and only when she is tiptoeing across the edge do I begin to lick and suck harder.
