Chapter Eight
Kaos
“Okay, let’s see what we've got here. Almond flour.” Spiro set a white bag on the counter.
“Dairy free butter, caster sugar, eggs, vanilla extract, and jam.” He placed several more ingredients next to each other and shuffled them like a magician would his cups.
With hands on his hips and tentacles organizing everything, he nodded.
“How do you feel about Victoria Sponge Cake?”
I hopped onto the counter and wiggled my toes. “I wanna feel it in my mouth.”
“I can arrange that.” The hooded look Spiro gave me confirmed that his mind was as deep in the gutter as mine. I’d already came twice today. Far from my daily record.
Spiro proceeded to add flour to a bowl, then mix, measure, and magic everything with his hands and tentacles so quickly that I couldn’t keep track of it.
“Will you be okay with all the ingredients you see?”
I stretched my hands above my head, arching. “Yeah. If I start choking, my epi-pen is on my nightstand.”
Spiro paused, all his limbs frozen mid-action. “You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. You need to stab me with the pointy end.” I waggled my eyebrows, enjoying immensely how Spiro shook his head in exasperation. “The instructions are on it.”
“You’ll show me when we’re done. This is not a joke. I didn’t realize your allergies were so severe.”
“I’ll be fine.” Using the free moment, I replied to the email about a room availability next week and confirmed I wouldn’t be taking it.
Was I making a mistake? I eyed the tentacled hottie with rippling muscles and suckers galore, and decided that even if I had fun with him for a few days before he kicked me out, it would still be worth staying.
I bounced in my seat. “Can I help?”
Spiro’s expression was skeptical, but he handed me a bowl. “Mix.”
I balanced the sleek stainless steel on my lap and grabbed the spoon. The batter already smelled good.
My pocket vibrated, and I startled, sending the bowl across the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” I launched after it, but my phone kept ringing. As I was pulling it out of my hoodie, stepped on the spoon I’d yeeted, and dropped the phone into the spilled batter. It landed with a dull splat.
“Kaos! What did you do?” Spiro’s shocked voice boomed.
“It just flew out of my hands!” I plucked my phone from the splatted mass and wiped it on my hoodie.
“How?” He held me by the hips as I was slipping on the mess, then turned me to face him. His eyes scanned me as if he were checking for injuries. He was visibly upset, but not angry.
I better fix it all so he could forgive me faster, if that were even possible. I pushed away from him.
“I’ll clean it up.” Kneeling on the tiles, I reached for the paper towel on the counter. It fell on my head, then bounced and rolled out on the floor like a white carpet for a special event.
“No!” Spiro’s voice was sharp but not malicious.
I didn’t flinch.
Was I trusting him too much? What if he lost his shit on me? Wouldn’t be the first time someone who fancied me couldn’t handle my level of disaster.
His tentacles wrapped around me and he plopped me back onto the counter.
He grabbed my chin with his tentacle and put his face inches from mine. “Stay here this time, okay?”
I nodded, but he was still waiting. “Yes, Chef!”
Spiro’s gaze narrowed, and he tickled my bare thighs with his suckers then wiggled his tentacles under my hoodie. Did I uncover what his favorite moniker was? Testing that theory would be fun.
“Good kitten.” His voice came out in a low growl, and boy didn’t that make me melt.
He snatched his tentacles from me and set them to work with the towel, water, and more wiping. Within moments, the floor was pristine, the bowl washed, and Spiro was preparing a new batch.
My hoodie was a mess, but the phone was working, even if the screen was sticky in the cracks.
The caller was an unknown number, so I texted Cillian instead.
My emotions were all over the place. The eclectic attraction I felt toward Spiro was so intense that I wanted to impress him, to be good to him.
Instead, I kept making a fool of myself.
Me: My new friend might be getting tired of my clumsy ass.
Cillian: What did you do?
Me: I ruined a cake he’s making for me.
Cillian: He’s baking for you? Does he know you have allergies?
Me: Yes. It’s with special ingredients.
Cillian: That sounds like he likes you.
Me: Everyone has limits.
I pocketed the phone and wiggled in my seat. “When did you know you liked cooking?”
A small smile danced on Spiro’s lips. “Since I was very little. My older brothers played with musical instruments and art supplies, while I wanted to help my parents in the kitchen.”
“Do they both like cooking?”
“My mom is an excellent chef, and no one bakes like my dad. They’ve been running their restaurant together since they moved from Florida to Mom’s native Greece when I was little.
So I grew up in the restaurant and around the constant rush of preparing the perfect meal for everyone.
” Spiro mixed the batter with a spatula, holding it in a right upper tentacle and keeping the bowl steady with a left one.
“That sounds magical. What was your favorite part about that?”
“Seeing people happy. Knowing their day got better thanks to their visit to the restaurant. Some seasons were slimmer, and we struggled, but the warmth of the place never faded. Besides, we have a large extended family that would help us with anything when we needed.”
“That kind of support is special.” I had trouble imagining my relatives acting so selflessly. Everyone had their own path and trod it without looking back. It was my turn, and I was failing at every step.
“It is. Now, the place is pretty well known locally, though I’d like to elevate that with a new menu. This retreat is me taking the time off work to focus on fresh twists on classic dishes.”
Spiro was so mesmerising to watch, but he was talkative when he worked too, and I could use that to learn more about him. “You mentioned older brothers. Are you the youngest?”
“Yup.” Spiro pulled up the cuff silver bracelet on his wrist that had a single red gemstone in it, and continued mixing the fresh batter in the bowl.
“Me too. How did that work out for you?”
“I feel like I’m stuck in place. My brothers have interesting lives away from home, and have devoted partners.
While I just wanna cook. I love to feed people, make them enjoy the food, and have a good time.
I was convinced I’d be content being a chef at my parents’ restaurant, but after seeing how happy my brothers are, I’m having doubts.
But in the end, those pass, and I belong in that taverna, fulfilling my childhood dreams.” Spiro poured the batter into two round tins and slid them into the oven.
“These will need thirty minutes.” He set the timer on and cleaned the counter.
“How about you? Being the youngest can both spoil us and fuck us up.”
“That’s true.” I settled my tail around my waist and plucked the fur there. “I’m a disappointment to my family.”
“Why?” Spiro paused with a spoonful of sugar in the air above a bowl with butter in it.
“I’m not organized. I’m the smallest, a total klutz, and I don’t have my life figured out. They all have jobs that are either highly-paid or highly-esteemed.” I glanced away. Stupid me had to start this subject.
He shook his head and continued working. “A good job doesn’t have to be your life’s goal if that won’t make you happy. How old are you?”
Clearly, he was perfect, so he wouldn’t understand. “I’ll be twenty-two on January first. You?”
“Twenty-six. And I don’t have it all figured out. But that doesn’t make either of us a failure. We just haven’t found our way yet.” Spiro mixed the ingredients he added to the butter like he wasn’t dropping wisdom on me.
“If we’re lost, at least we’re together for the month.”
“So you’re definitely staying?” His smile warmed my heart. He’d gone from wanting to be alone to asking me to stay and genuinely meaning it. Surely, I was dreaming.
“Yeah. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.” Spiro dipped the tip of his upper tentacle in the buttercream he’d been preparing. “Tell me what you think.”
I wrapped my lips around it and licked the sugary delight. Balanced sweetness exploded on my tongue, but it didn’t compare to the excitement of sucking Spiro’s tentacle.
Meeting Spiro’s gaze, I moaned.
His cheeks blushed deep purple on his light burgundy skin. It was the exact reaction I craved from him. Maybe I was horny and desperate, but I was also an opportunist. And I knew that when a hot dude was interested in me, I should make the best of it before he disappeared from my life.
I pulled his tentacle out of my mouth and smacked my lips. “So good, I could suck on it all day.” Pulling my thigh-highs up, I left my hands on my knees and parted them.
As I’d expected, Spiro caught the bait and stepped between my thighs. “Oh really? I have to check.” He scooped some buttercream and slathered it on the part of my bare thigh between where the socks ended and my hoodie began.
My heart pounded, sending blood to my cock as I watched Spiro kneel on the floor and lick the white spread in a slow, sensual move. “Hmm. I’m not convinced it’s perfect. I need to try more.”
He wiggled his tentacles under my hoodie to my hips and paused.
“All this time?”
I grinned, feigning innocence. “What?”
“Since you entered the bathroom, you were not wearing anything underneath?”
“Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” He pushed the bottom of my hoodie back to my waist, releasing my cock from under it. It sprang up, showcasing my eagerness.
Spiro’s breath tickled my dick as he gazed at it for several beats with his head tilted and his lips parted. Slowly, he reached with his tentacle for more buttercream from the bowl.
It was cool on my dick, but did nothing to calm the raging heat inside me. Spiro was so gentle and patient that I was losing my mind. I wasn’t used to anyone taking their time with me, and Spiro acted like he was savoring the moment. Was that even possible?
“Lean back on your elbows.” Spiro’s low voice made me act right away, and he patted my knee in approval. “Good kitten.”
The moan that escaped me was a reaction to the moniker, but soon grew louder as Spiro kissed a line up my thigh.
He nuzzled my groin, inhaling loudly. “Your cock is too long for me to deep throat.”
Oh no. Not again. “I’be been told it’s a waste since I’m a total bottom.”
“I can use it for practice if you’ll let me.”
A tiny sound left me, and I nodded. “Yeah, go for it.”
He licked along my dick in slow, erotic movements, growling low. My legs trembled under the caress of his hands, but he was keeping his tentacles away. They whipped around in the air behind him like a storm, mirroring my need for more action.
“Let them touch me. If you want to—” My words came out breathless.
“I do. I’m dying to feel you, to be inside you…” With a hooded gaze, he glanced up between my legs. His handsome face was illuminated by the overhead fixture, making him look like a wicked, tentacled angel with eyes glowing soft red.
“Good. Because I can’t stand the anticipation.”
A look of surprise crossed Spiro’s features.
Did he think I was a blushing virgin? Well, he didn’t know me yet.
Spiro moved me to the edge of the counter, while his tentacles spiraled around my ankles, moved between my thighs, and roamed under my hoodie to seek out my nipples.
The gentle graze over my hole announced his welcome presence there. He placed a kiss on my thigh and watched my expression.
I nodded in a wordless invitation he seemed to be waiting for. His tentacle swirled over my pucker, lubricating it with what I assumed was Spiro’s natural goo he’d used on me before.
I relaxed on an exhale and let him in.
The thin tip slid in and moved farther until I felt suckers graze my rim. A whimper left me, and I arched, slipping closer to the edge.
He held me and placed my legs over his shoulders, nuzzling my calf, which was still clad in my patterned socks.
The pressure on my rim increased, even though he didn’t push in farther.
“Did—” I moaned. “Did you just make your tentacle thicker?”
“Yes.” He smirked and took my cock halfway into his mouth with one swift move. He swirled his tongue, sucking with an intensity that drove me crazy with lust.
My breath quickened as heat washed over me. I was so close my thighs trembled, and I lost my grip on the counter, relinquishing my body to Spiro completely.
A loud ding sounded, and I looked around, confused.
The pressure inside me was gone, and Spiro pulled away.
“No!” I gasped, grabbing at him to pull him to me.
“Patience.”
“I can’t. I wanna come.” I whimpered. Tears threatened at the back of my eyes. With a defiant look, I grabbed my cock and stroked. It was not the same.
“You can. I’m not stopping you. But if you wait for me, it will be worth it.”
“Oh no. You’re a philosopher too.” I let go of myself and pouted.
Spiro chuckled, washed his limbs in the sink, pulled the two round trays from the oven with tentacles wrapped in kitchen towels, and set them aside.
“These need to cool down.” He took a whisk from the bowl and licked the batter, his tongue going around the tiny metal spirals.
“Ah, so that’s how you learned your tricks.” I was so mad at him, but he was too endearing to hate.
Spiro smirked. “Maybe.”
“So you’ll make me come today? Promise?” I thrust my chin up.
“I don’t want you to be sore.” He was playing with me. Fine.
I rolled my eyes. “Do you know what the French call an orgasm?”
“La petite mort,” he replied immediately. “I had a French lover once.”
“Exactly. A little death. And I have nine lives.” I showed him my tongue and wagged my tail.
Spiro burst out laughing, the sound booming in the kitchen.
“This is the best needy sub remark I’ve ever heard.” He kissed me briefly on the lips, then on both my cheeks. “I’ll test that theory while you’re here, don’t worry.”
I wiggled in my seat. “You better.”
Still chuckling, he washed his upper limbs and proceeded to spread the buttercream and jam on the cake with a spatula.
Fascinated, I watched his tentacles work, more interested in his body than the process or the food itself.
He dusted his creation with a little icing sugar on top and cut two slices. “Let’s see what you think.”
I took the plate from him, grinning. No one had ever baked me a cake before. “Thanks.”
I dug into it, moaning. “So good. I need to tell my followers.”
“Do they follow you for recipes?”
I stuffed more cake into my face. “No, but—” My throat constricted, and cleared it. “Wait. What jam is that?”
Spiro stepped toward me. “Strawberry.”
“Uh oh.” I coughed one more time before my throat closed.