Chapter 2 Seduction #2
“Do you have the ingredients for hot chocolate?” Hades asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah, milk’s in the fridge.” Aaren stood in front of the fridge, watching as Hades peeked into the cabinets. Hades found the saucepan and set it on the stove. Then he approached Aaren, raising his eyebrows.
“Oh,” Aaren said, shuffling aside.
There wasn’t enough space in the kitchen. Hades stopped in front of him, just inches away.
“Excuse me,” Hades murmured. He gently grasped Aaren’s hips and moved him out of the way. The heat of his hands burned through Aaren’s pajamas.
He watched in stunned silence as Hades rummaged in the fridge, grabbing the milk. Then, as though he hadn’t just touched another alpha’s omega, Hades strode over to the stove, pouring milk into the saucepan.
The alpha grinned over his shoulder, capping the milk. “Gonna watch me all night?”
Aaren snapped out of his daze. “Oh. That’s right. I’m supposed to cook for you.”
Hades huffed. He stepped closer, this time brushing past Aaren’s arm as he returned the milk to the fridge.
He couldn’t be doing it on purpose. The kitchen was just too small.
Aaren made himself open the fridge again. Focus! He needed to make something good, well worth the two hundred bucks that Hades had paid him. “I’m totally not distracted by the huge alpha in my kitchen.”
Hades laughed quietly.
There was one tray of steak in the fridge, but that was for Ballus’ dinner. Aaren had no time to run to the convenience store for extras, and besides, the meat there was terrible. What he did have was chicken breast and potatoes, sweet bell peppers and tomatoes.
“I have something in mind,” Aaren said slowly. “It’s not going to be some fancy three-course meal, but it will be tasty.”
“Perfect,” Hades rumbled.
Aaren spared a second to watch Hades stir the milk in the pot.
He busied himself with food prep—trimming the skin and bones off the chicken breasts, slicing them into thin halves and dumping them into a plastic tub for a fast brine.
He filled a pot with salt water and dropped some quartered potatoes in to boil.
“You’re stronger than you look,” Hades said quietly when Aaren heaved the pot of potatoes over to the stove.
“I boil bigger batches of potatoes at work,” Aaren grumbled. “It’s not just fat on me. I have muscles too.”
“Yeah?”
He felt the weight of Hades’ gaze on his body, sweeping up and down his limbs. When he glanced up, he found an appreciative look in the alpha’s eyes.
Aaren swallowed hard. He turned on the burner for the potatoes, then reached over to preheat the oven. This made his bare arm bump against Hades’ elbow; there was a tattoo of something long and scaly under Hades’ shirt sleeve.
He’s a customer, Aaren told himself. I shouldn’t be ogling.
But it was difficult not to look. Multiple tattoos covered Hades’ arms—a mermaid on a rock, a roaring tiger, two tap dancing skeletons, and even a group portrait of a lion, a tin man, a scarecrow, a girl, and a dog.
He scrunched his eyes shut when Hades caught him staring.
“I’m, um, roasting vegetables,” he squeaked, hurrying away to grab the tomatoes and bell peppers.
Those, he sliced and seasoned with olive oil and dried basil.
They went into the oven on a roasting pan.
Then he threw together the breading mixture for the chicken—breadcrumbs, garlic powder, dried parsley, salt, and a heap of shredded parmesan.
“Hot chocolate’s ready,” Hades said a moment later. When Aaren looked up, he found Hades holding two steaming mugs.
“Oh! Hang on, let me wash my hands.” He gave the breading mixture a final stir, then set it aside and scrubbed his hands clean. Hades was still holding the mugs when Aaren turned back to him.
With exceeding gentleness, the alpha set one of the mugs in Aaren’s hands, their fingers brushing.
Electricity sparked down Aaren’s arm.
He inhaled sharply and looked up, only to find an odd expression on Hades’ face.
“What was that?” Aaren blurted.
“Who knows?” Hades murmured. But he was watching Aaren closely. “Give it a taste and tell me if I need to adjust it.”
Aaren brought the mug to his lips, sipping the steaming liquid. Its sweet, velvety richness filled his mouth, so sinful that he moaned. “This is amazing.”
“Yeah?” Hades grinned, sharp and triumphant. Then he drank too, his throat bobbing. When Hades lowered his mug, his tongue flicked out, catching the stray droplets on his lips.
“I’ve never had an alpha make me hot chocolate,” Aaren admitted, still looking at Hades’ mouth. “Never had an alpha cook me anything, either. Except my Papa.”
“Really?” Hades frowned.
“When alphas hear that I’m a cook, they usually want me to make food for them. For free, I mean,” Aaren said hurriedly. “You paid, so you’re different.”
Hades hummed. “I’m deeply appreciative of your cooking. Did you learn to cook at culinary school?”
“I learned at home first, from my parents. Then I went to culinary school; Gran paid for it. After I graduated, I worked at a few different restaurants and gained more experience.”
“Rizz Razz is suffering without you. I’m surprised that you’re working in a bar’s kitchen instead of a restaurant.”
So he had poked around for information; that didn’t come as a surprise.
Aaren shrugged. “The Wine Shack’s menu is pretty simple, but... Olson hired me when I was a mess. He gave me a chance.”
He was still ashamed of that interview. Back then, he had been freshly mugged in Highton; he only had enough money for a bus ride to Meadowfall.
Right after he’d gotten off the bus, he had staggered away to beg for an interview at the first place he could find.
The restaurants had all rejected him. Then he had gone into the Wine Shack, and Olson had hired him on the spot.
Olson had even let Aaren stay overnight on his office couch, and he’d fed Aaren with his own snack stash.
The timer rang for the brining chicken. Aaren jumped and almost spilled his hot chocolate; large hands caught his own, steadying his mug.
“Careful,” Hades murmured. He looked into Aaren’s eyes for a breathless second—and released him. But he didn’t move away. “Best if we don’t make a mess.”
“I make messes all the time,” Aaren blurted. “Not in my pants though.”
Immediately after, he froze, his cheeks scorching.
“Oh?” Hades’ gaze dropped to the front of Aaren’s pants.
“That wasn’t what I meant to say!” Aaren squeaked. He hurriedly set down his mug, his hands tingling with the ghost of Hades’ touch.
Actually, Hades had been touching him a lot. Bumping into him, brushing past him.
Why was he doing that? He knew Aaren had an alpha. He knew Aaren couldn’t leave his alpha.
Still confused, Aaren got ready some paper towels, an egg mixture, and a prep tray. He took the chicken breasts out of the brine, patting them dry. One by one, he egged and breaded the meat, before washing his hands.
“The tomatoes are starting to smell really good,” Hades murmured.
Aaren bent over to check the roasting vegetables. As he did so, his ass bumped into something warm and firm—Hades’ solid thighs.
He squeaked and jumped a little, looking over his shoulder.
“Sorry,” Hades said, taking a step back.
He didn’t sound sorry at all.
Warmth swooped between Aaren’s legs. Had Hades wanted to touch his ass?
I should tell him to stop. I have a boyfriend. Aaren stared unseeingly at the tomatoes. But Ballus is horrible and I can’t dump him.
“I can drain the potatoes when they’re done,” Hades said.
Aaren blinked himself back. He shut the oven door and grabbed a fork to test the potatoes. “They’re done. If... If you don’t mind, I’d like some help with the potatoes. I don’t like carrying pots of water; they’re kind of heavy.”
“Didn’t you say you have muscles?” Hades’ tone was lightly teasing; he lifted the pot anyway, his biceps bunching. At the sink, he held the potatoes back with a lid and drained them easily.
“Your muscles are really big,” Aaren blurted.
Hades smiled, his lips curving slowly. “That’s not the only big thing about me.”
“What else—Oh.” Aaren’s mouth went dry.
Hades set the pot back on the stove. Aaren shook himself. I need to focus! He heated some oil in a pan, then mashed the potatoes in their pot and stirred in some cream cheese. When the oil was hot enough, he began frying the chicken.
“Looking good,” Hades said quietly.
Except when Aaren peeked at him, he found Hades looking at his ass again.
Oh gods. Does he really think I’m hot?
“Do you want a taste?” Aaren asked.
“Yes,” Hades said, still staring at his ass.
Then he looked up, and his face contained no hint of a joke.
Aaren blushed so hot, he thought he might faint. Hades smiled.
“Wow, um.” Aaren fumbled for a clean spoon, his hole a little wet. He scooped some mashed potatoes out of the pot. “Here.”
When Hades accepted the spoon, he wrapped his hand around Aaren’s. His fingers were calloused, warm and firm.
Hades didn’t let go. Aaren had to tug his hand free, his blush burning all the way down his chest. He squeaked and hurried back to the stove, his heart pounding.
He wasn’t going to think about this. He wasn’t.
But his body remembered the brief touches—the brush of their arms, the light squeeze of his hip, the warm hands on his, the solid thighs against his ass.
He hastily picked up his hot chocolate, gulping down a mouthful. Then he checked on the frying chicken.
“The potatoes are delicious. How is the chicken going?” Hades stepped up behind him. He didn’t touch Aaren again. But there were only a couple of inches between their bodies, and Hades’ warmth soaked into Aaren’s back.
Oh fuck, he thought, his heart racing. This is so wrong.
And yet.
And yet he didn’t try to escape.
“It’s, um, going,” Aaren croaked, his pulse thumping between his legs. Could Hades smell the musk of his arousal?
Because unlike the woodsy scents of alphas, the grassy scents of betas, and the floral scents of omegas, sex scents were the same from person to person, making them easily recognizable.
Hades leaned over Aaren’s shoulder to peer at the chicken, his broad chest pressing lightly against Aaren’s back. “Looking good.”
Then he stayed there, long moments of them just breathing together.
Aaren wasn’t even looking at the chicken anymore. He peeked at Hades’ stubble from the corner of his eye, secretly sniffing at that cherrywood scent.
I’m going to hell, he thought.