Chapter 5 #3
“Back for another taste?” I tease her.
She steps closer, and I realize she’s pink again, but not just from the flirting. She looks like she’s overheated once more.
“Needed to cool down,” she says, sweeping past me and helping herself to another cup, filling it with ice and water. She grabs a piece of paper from one of the flat surfaces, and starts fanning herself, her curly hair fluttering in the breeze that creates.
“You okay over there? Don’t want you fainting on me again.”
She rolls her eyes, walking to the wall and resting her back against it.
I bite down on my lip at the sight of the flush rushing down her exposed chest and across the tops of her breasts that shirt shows off.
She eyes me from across the room. “Then don’t push me, Chef.”
My cock twitches in my pants at her throaty tone, husky and feminine all at once. That word coming out of her mouth does things to me.
Stepping closer to her, those chocolate eyes move up my tall frame to watch my approach, wary of me, but backed up to the paneled wall with nowhere to go. When I get near enough to see her up close for the first time, I see just how flushed she really is.
“Have you been working outside all day?”
“Helping Nora with the floral displays down at Smoky Stacks. After she saw the ones here, she tried to do her own, but it needed so much more than a quick look like she said. We ended up replanting half of her flowers.” She snaps her mouth shut, like she surprised herself by spilling all of that.
Her eyes narrow on me and she asks, “Why do you care?”
Harsh, but I don’t take offense. Takes a lot to offend Wilder Amante, and the claws on this kitty are nothing but cute from where I’m standing.
“You look like you’re overheating again. Does that happen a lot?”
She shakes her head, stepping to the side to get out from in front of me. “It’s never happened before, and it’s none of your concern. I just need AC and cold water.”
“So it’s just me that gets you all hot and bothered?” I ask her, the grin in my voice unable to be contained. “If it’s only happened the two times we’ve met, maybe it’s my magic touch?”
She spins on her heel, eyes flaming. “You’re so full of yourself, Chef. It’s a hot day. I was gardening all afternoon. Don’t flatter yourself.”
I nod my head at her, faux-serious. “Okay, yeah, sure. I’d buy that if your headlights weren’t on and your face wasn’t redder now than when you came inside a few minutes ago.”
Her hands fly to her chest, fingers confirming what my eyes couldn’t possibly have missed, and her nostrils flare.
I’d bet another month on my sentence that she’s dripping, turned on by this game between us the way I am, but I’m smart enough not to call her out on it here and now.
Placing my hands on her shoulders, I usher her toward the walk-in freezer. “Let’s get you cooled down before we have another fainting spell, sound good?”
Huffing and puffing, it’s a small miracle that she lets me walk her into the freezer, where the temperature is a brisk zero degrees. I take thirty seconds to dash out and whip her up my hydration drink again and grab a handful of extra ice to help her cool down faster.
Returning to the walk-in, I find her pacing, breathing deeply, but still looking just as frustrated.
When I hand her the drink, her cocoa eyes run up and down my large frame. Whether she’s assessing if I poisoned the drink, or checking me out, I’m not sure. Probably a mix of both.
“Go on.” I nudge her arm with it, and she takes it in a huff of exasperation.
She gulps it down, which gives me a chance to open my mouth again.
“This summer’s gonna be hotter than usual, I hear. Gotta stay extra hydrated to survive it.” I wink at her.
Her eyes flash at me over the rim of the plastic deli cup she’s drinking out of. When she finishes the drink, I take the container from her and place it on an empty shelf that’s above her head.
My steps eat the space between us, one foot and then the other, and I smirk as she backs away from me, those eyes running down the length of me dangerously as she does.
She stops abruptly when her back hits the silver wall of the freezer, and she jolts with the shock of the cold, a chill breaking through her.
My eyes zero in on the way her nipples respond.
“I was just worked up the other day,” she explains, hands coming up like she’s gonna push me away, but she rests them on my abs instead. Interesting.
I flex under her touch, and I feel her fingertips dig into my skin through my chef’s jacket. I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing it, but I see her eyes burn when she feels what’s there.
Wait until she feels what else I’m working with.
“Yeah?” I ask her, moving one leg forward, pinning her in place against the wall. “You look pretty worked up right now,” I tell her. “We better fix that.”
One hand on the wall beside her, I bring the other up so I can press the ice cube against her scalp, through the part in her hair. Immediately, she breaks out in a fresh round of chills, her whole body rippling from the sudden cold.
“This should help,” I say, voice gruff. My version of soft.
Dragging the ice cube down her head until it hits the back of her neck, she lets out a moan and lets her head fall back against the wall, eyes slamming shut.
“That feel good?” I ask her.
She shakes her head, the little liar.
“No?”
This time she doesn’t answer. I let my hand drift, rubbing the ice cube across the base of her neck, down around to the column of her throat, and there’s no mistaking the moan she makes when a single drop of water runs from the dip in her collarbone down into the valley between her full breasts.
If her nipples were attentive before, they’re downright eager now. I don’t think it’s from the cold. They’re begging for attention I’d love to give them.
“I’m good,” she tries to grit the words out, but it’s more like a whimper.
My kinda woman.
My feral grin can’t be contained. “Is that why you’re grinding on my thigh?”
Her head drops down, shocked to see that her body seems to have a mind of its own, hips moving softly back and forth against my thigh for pressure as I work the ice cube over her flushed skin.
“Oh my God.” She straightens up, embarrassed.
“I’d be happy to turn you into a believer, but in the kitchen, you can call me Chef.”
“Excuse me, Chef,” she says tersely. My newest obsession finally realizes her hands are still kneading my abs, and she pulls them back, flushing even harder. Her body knows what she wants, even if her head tries to deny herself.
A purr rumbles deep in my throat. “I didn’t say stop.”
That light in her eyes that was doused with the chill of embarrassment comes flaring back to life. A hunger I recognize, one that’s echoed in me.
“Keep going, bella. Take what you need.”
My eyes drop to the ice cube still in my hand, still on her skin, and I let it drift farther south, melting as it dips between her breasts. I watch the goosebumps that erupt around it as it slides over her sensitive skin.
The gorgeous woman whimpers again, hips moving once more, but I’m not sure she meant to do that one either.
That won’t do. I want this girl unleashed, I want her as unhinged for me as I am for her. Not in her head, stopping herself from what we both know she wants. What’s been brewing between us, bubbling under the surface since the moment she looked at me like she wanted to hang me by my entrails.
This tension between us is the kind that only gets worked out in the bedroom, but it’s her call.
“I don’t need anything.” Her voice wavers, and her hips shift again.
One of my dark brows flies up. “So, we’re just gonna pretend you’re not dripping all over my thigh right now, straight through those jeans?”
Another sound is strangled in her throat, and my eyes fall to it, wondering how it would feel to put my hand around it as she rides me. Wondering how long it’ll take for me to find out.
“I hate you,” she says in a throaty whisper, less volume, less effort to stop herself from giving in this time. A final half-hearted attempt to pretend this isn’t what we both need from one another.
“You don’t hate my thigh.”
I shake my head at her, still teasing her with the ice, dragging it side to side, letting her reactions guide my hand.
“This can be our little secret. The way you’re grinding your clit on my leg is just for me, bella. How pretty your tits look underneath this ice, the face you’re gonna make when you come all over me, that’ll be just between us.”
Her face breaks, eyes rolling back in pleasure, her lip quivering between her teeth, and those fierce eyes open again and sharpen on mine. Desire shines back at me.
“Fuck it,” she snarls, and she stops holding back.
Those thick hips dip as I press my knee further in, ready for her, giving her the surface, the friction she so desperately needs, and I watch from above as she works herself over me.
A queen, the way she owns her pleasure.
She’s mesmerizing as she shifts her hips, grinding, rubbing on me unabashedly. Within seconds, my dick is as solid as the ice in my hand, ready to join in on the fun, but I don’t let him. She’s gonna have to be ready for that before I go there.
Brown eyes fluttering shut, she bites her lip harder, face angry in the hottest way as she takes what she needs from me, trying to convince herself she hates me as she brings herself to release using my body as her fuck toy. It’ll be my favorite role I’ve ever had in a kitchen.
“You’re a goddamn delight,” I breathe out, voice raspy with need. “You fuck like you’ll die without it, don’t you?”
“Shut up,” she grits out, eyes still shut.
I don’t want her to miss a moment of this. I know I’m not going to be able to forget even a second of it. So I give her a reason to open those gorgeous eyes on me once more.