Chapter Twenty-Three
Dani
For the rest of the day on Friday, Jase and I worked in our respective spaces—me in Jillian’s office and him in the kitchen. Neither of us ventured to see the other, knowing we wouldn’t be able to keep our hands off each other if we did.
The restaurant’s phone was flooded with calls from people trying to reserve a table for the already booked night, and not wanting to be a distraction during an especially busy shift, I decided to leave before service began. At four o’clock, I headed out, swinging by the bar to wave goodbye to Jase. He dragged me by the hand up to Jillian’s office, pressed me against the closed door, and kissed me until I couldn’t breathe.
Saturday, he texted me to ask what I wanted for dinner on our date. I told him to go with whatever he was in the mood for. I’d eat absolutely anything that man cooked, and then I’d ask for more.
Now it was Sunday evening, and I was on my way to his apartment, board game in hand, a change of clothes, makeup wipes, and a toothbrush rolled up in my purse. I’d decided to walk so I didn’t have to worry about overnight parking, the complete opposite of how I usually felt before a first date. Normally, I’d want the excuse for not being able to stay the night, a buffer to keep things slow without having to come right out and say as much.
Tonight, I didn’t want slow. I was past the point of dipping my toe in the water. I wanted to dive right in and be fully submerged in Jase. In the calmness of his presence and the steadiness of his confidence. In the fresh spice of his soap that made me want to rub my face against his neck like a cat in heat and then drop to my knees to find out how he tasted. To make him smile and then make him groan, make him lose himself as completely as I had against that locker.
It was a foreign sensation. Instead of the sharp buzz of my usual anxiety putting me on edge, something else rolled through me. A steady hum that vibrated low in my belly, craving everything he and I had already shared and more. Like something had awakened within me, some sensual being who had long been asleep and now needed to feed. It had my pulse thrumming as I made my way up the elevator of his building.
Outside his door, I adjusted the thin strap of my blue sundress, one that made me feel sexy but was still casual enough for a night in. It was another dress I’d bought a while ago but hadn’t worn, never quite believing I could pull it off.
Tonight, it fit like a glove.
The door swung open, and my heart kicked at the sight of him. He wore dark jeans and a light blue button-down that made his eyes stand out, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, leaving the defined lines of his forearms on display. It was a devastating combination.
He was frozen too, his gaze slowly moving from my hair down my body and back up again, his eyes burning with so much intensity that it raised the hair on my arms.
He wanted me.
The knowledge simmered my blood with arousal until it was thickly flowing magma in my veins.
It was only when Baxter slid out the door to rub against my leg that the moment broke. Jase took a step back and cleared his throat. “Hey, come in.”
All sorts of delicious aromas greeted me as I trailed him into the kitchen, making my mouth water—onion and garlic and fresh herbs, and other combinations of ingredients I couldn’t place. I set the board game on the island, careful of the candles and wineglasses laid out alongside a plate of some sort of appetizer.
I sent him a sidelong glance. “I’m impressed.”
He gave a shy laugh as he reached for a glass of white wine. “I try.” He handed me the glass, then picked up an appetizer off the plate. “Come here,” he said softly.
I settled against the warmth of his body and let him place the bite in my mouth. As soon as it hit my tongue, my eyes fell closed on a moan, an explosion of umami richness bursting to life in my mouth.
“Oh my God, what is this?” Seriously, he could feed me anything, anything , and I would eat it.
“Fried parsnip crisp with sunchoke crumble and porcini puree,” he answered as I licked my lips, catching the few crumbs stuck there.
I opened my eyes and found him watching me as if he’d never seen anything more beautiful. He leaned in and caught my mouth in a blistering kiss.
“You like feeding me or something?” I asked as he pulled away.
He rested his forehead against mine. “You have no idea.” He nodded to the stools on the other side of the island. “Go ahead, take a seat. The next course is almost ready.”
“Course?” I perked up as he moved to stir something on the stove. “As in more than one?”
He rested the wooden spoon on the ceramic saucer and crossed his arms over his chest, the corner of his mouth rising. “There are five.”
“You know,” I said, closing the distance between us and wrapping my arms around his waist. “You’re playing a dangerous game. I might start expecting this level of culinary performance on every date.”
He smirked, bringing his mouth to my ear. “I’m counting on it.”
A delicious shiver ran up my spine.
I took a seat so he could serve me the next course of spicy tomato and pepper jam with charred flatbread that was—shocker—delicious. It continued that way for the rest of the meal, us eating together, talking about everything and nothing, him getting up to serve the next dish—first a watermelon and berry salad with chili lime dressing and herbs, and then summer corn tortellini with homemade pasta, all of it so good I could cry. He moved around his kitchen with the same controlled grace as at the restaurant, but even more hypnotizing because I could watch him openly here.
Somehow it felt like we had done this a dozen times already, eaten dinner together at his place, his thumb brushing back and forth across my thigh, me refilling his wineglass without having to ask.
I offered to help wash dishes, but he refused, insisting there weren’t that many. It was true only because he was as immaculate with caring for his kitchen as he was his food. He cleaned as he went, his sink never filling more than halfway before he put items in the dishwasher or rinsed them out by hand.
“I’m not this on top of the rest of my apartment,” he admitted. “But one of the chefs I used to work for said it was like artists cleaning their brushes. It’s about respect for your craft.” He shrugged. “It stuck with me.”
By the time we finished dessert—a dark chocolate brownie still warm from the oven that had me literally licking the plate, much to Jase’s satisfaction—I couldn’t eat another bite yet mourned there wasn’t more. Not just because the food tasted so incredible, but because of all of it. Of how much I enjoyed talking to Jase. How easy it was to open up to him. How being around him somehow made me feel more myself. A self I hadn’t known before yet recognized right away as the one I wanted to be.
It turned out it wasn’t just Jase’s food I couldn’t get enough of; it was all of him.
Eventually, we made our way to the living room to set up the board game. He insisted on reading the rules to make sure I didn’t give myself an unfair advantage, not that I would have. I planned to kick his ass fair and square.
By the end of the first hand, it was clear he was as competitive as I was.
An hour later, I jumped up from where I sat on the floor, arms raised above my head. “Hell yeah, baby, eat it!”
He threw his cards on the table. “I call foul play. You expect me to believe you just happened to draw the exact two cards you needed exactly when you needed them?”
I put my hands on my hips. “It’s called luck.”
“It’s called cheating.” He pointed an accusatory finger at me. “You stacked the decks, didn’t you? When I got up to get us waters? It’s okay, you can admit it. I won’t tell anyone.”
I skirted around the coffee table to where he sat on the couch and lowered myself in his lap. The glint in his eyes turned heated as I straddled him, his hands falling to my bare legs where my dress bunched at my hips.
“Don’t feel bad,” I said, nose brushing his, our mouths a breath apart. “Not everyone can be good at board games.”
He squeezed my thighs, his thumbs skimming closer to where I was already growing wet, his touch igniting my skin. “I’m amazing at board games,” he said, voice low.
My own voice was practically a whisper. “Then it must just be lousy luck.” I rocked against him once with the slightest tilt of my hips. He was already growing hard, the pressure a delicious jolt to my core. I swallowed a moan. “But don’t worry. That’s about to change for you.”
His gaze dropped to my lips. “Yeah?”
I nodded as I slid off his lap and settled on my knees between his legs. My hands flicked open the button of his jeans, the heel of my palm rubbing against him before I lowered his zipper.
A groan escaped his lips, low and deep, sending a pulse of heat between my legs.
I’d never been turned on by giving a blow job before. They were always more something I’d felt I should do rather than something I wanted to do. An item to check off the list so I wouldn’t have to do it again for a while.
But this—the hunger in Jase’s eyes, his whole body tense with anticipation, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths—had me more than willing. Eager, even.
I eased down the waistband of his boxer briefs to reveal his hard length, precum shining on his tip, and wrapped my palm around the base, studying his face as I gave a light squeeze. His hands curled into fists at his sides, knuckles going white as his jaw flexed.
He was big. Alec was too, but it turned out Jase was the bigger brother in more ways than one. I forced down my smirk, aware of how inappropriate it was on so many levels, not least of which was that Alec was my ex, and I was about to feast on his brother’s dick like it was my last meal.
I didn’t care.
I’d never felt as good as I did at this moment, as powerful or as desired, and for once I was letting that instinct call the shots. The one that yearned to give this generous, protective man even an ounce of the pleasure he’d already given me.
I held his gaze as I leaned in and flicked my tongue over his tip.
“ Fuck .” His head dropped back against the couch, chest falling as his stare remained glued to my mouth.
I licked up his length and swirled my tongue over the head, then closed my lips around him and lowered. His hands flew to my hair, fingers gentle as they brushed it from my face, clutching the strands as I eased out and back down. I took him deeper, sliding my tongue up and down his cock, wetting the base for my hand.
A groan caught in his chest, setting my skin on fire.
“Jesus.” His hips began to move, small thrusts matching my steady rhythm, filling my mouth with his salty taste. I pumped faster, squeezed my hand harder, watched his brow furrow in what would almost look like pain if not for the scorching pleasure burning in his eyes.
My own hips squirmed in time with his thrusts, my thighs wet with arousal. The empty space between my legs ached for his hardness, clenching on nothing as a moan caught deep in my throat.
His grip on my hair tightened. “Stop,” he gritted out, pulling me back. “Stop. Come up here.”
I hopped to my feet and straddled him, our mouths connecting in a frenzied kiss as I rolled my hips against him, the friction driving me wild. He pressed forward, his rock-hard length rubbing against my clit with nothing but my plain white thong separating us. It was the sexiest underwear I owned, and right now, I’d never hated a piece of fabric more.
His hands found my ass, squeezing and kneading, yanking at my thong, grinding me against him in a way that had me gasping for breath. One strap of my dress fell off my shoulder, and I yanked the other off with it, peeling the top of my dress down so it bunched at my waist.
Cool air grazed my fevered skin, stiffening my nipples. He lowered his mouth around one, kissing and sucking it before taking it in his teeth and gently pulling.
“Oh God,” I breathed. My hands tightened around his shoulders, thighs clenching with need. “Condom.”
He moved to my other breast, laving it with the same attention until I was shaking in his arms.
“Jase, please,” I moaned, tugging at his shirt, desperate to get it off him.
With a low chuckle, he unbuttoned it. The moment he had it open, my hands flew to his chest, fingers exploring his smooth, tanned skin, trailing across his dusting of hair and over his tightened abs.
He was too much—too attractive, too masculine. My body didn’t know how to handle it, my hips frantic as he dragged his shirt the rest of the way off and dug into his pants pocket.
He barely got the condom on before I pulled my panties aside and sank onto him in one smooth motion. I whimpered at the fullness, the stretch almost too much. It only made me want more.
“That’s it,” he murmured, running his hands up to grasp my breasts as I sank lower. His thumbs flicked over my nipples. “Take what you need.”
I did.
Oh God, I did, filling myself all the way, rubbing my clit against his groin as pressure built inside me unlike anything I’d felt before. A churning ocean of pleasure ready to drag me under and drown me in its depths.
I ground against him, hands clutching his shoulders, gripping his hair, desperate to hold the shards of myself together that threatened to fracture with each roll of my hips.
He grazed his hands down my spine and gripped my ass, tilting my pelvis forward enough so his lips could reach my neck, my collarbone, my breasts.
“Yes,” I breathed, picking up speed. “ Yes .” The new angle of my hips had him hitting a spot inside me that made me cry out. I gasped his name. “Jase?—”
He closed his mouth over a nipple and sucked.
It was like crashing to shore and catapulting through the sky all at once, wave after wave of pleasure rushing through me in terrible relief. My muscles seized, toes curling, and I ground down faster, tightening around his cock again and again, his hardness both the cause and the cure of this agony I never wanted to end.
When I finally came down, he was brushing my hair from my face, trailing his touch over my skin, kissing the underside of my jaw, my temple, my neck. Worshipping me.
His lips brushed over mine, and I sank into the kiss, wanting closer, even as I caught my breath. I pulsed with aftershocks around his still hard erection, and whatever being had awakened within me stirred, hungry for more. My hips churned in response.
It seemed as though, with all things Jase, I couldn’t get enough.