Chapter 28Rose
Chapter 28
Rose
I almost changed my mind about punishing Rafe with a chocolate-truffle-tasting challenge after all his help at the house.
Almost.
This year, we were introducing the Chocolate Lab gift tins and trying a new cross-marketing scheme—offering chocolate truffles from Kenzo’s new shop along with other gear, coffee and goodies from the café.
Sure, I could’ve asked Jen or Mica or Liliana or Katt or even Mateo to taste-test the samples. But what was the fun in that?
Instead, I’d devised a blind chocolate-truffle-tasting challenge for Rafe, based on the blind wine-tasting events Jean-Luc held every once in a while at his shop.
One time, my girls and I had gotten oh-so-toasted when we’d demanded multiple “tastes” of each wine—disguised in brown paper bags—so we could figure out which wine matched which description on the scorecard. Was that the first time that Lauren met Jean-Luc? Have to ask her when she gets here for Thanksgiving…
Anyway. Was I hoping to get Rafe drunk on chocolate? Shake him out of his seriousness? Get him to reveal his secrets under the influence? Maybe. Sometimes he seemed too guarded for his own good, even with me.
Or maybe I wanted to live out some more fantasies before he left next month. Guys could have fantasies too, right?
Now I stood in the middle of the roastery floor, hands on hips, surveying my handiwork. I’d chased all the kids out after closing so I could clean up—and set up—on my own.
Nine chocolate truffles paraded around the revolving oak cupping table, each covered by an anonymous white box with a number on the top and a label hidden on the bottom.
A blindfold—aka Chocolate Lab dog scarf—sat rolled up on the table, since I couldn’t rely on Rafe to keep his eyes shut. A raspberry filling here, slivers of candied ginger there, a coconut coating everywhere would be dead giveaways.
A score card listing each chocolate truffle by its fancy name and description rested on my stool. Once Rafe used his magic tasting skills to tease out the ingredients (because roasters cupped—that is, taste-tested—new coffees all the time), I’d write its number next to the closest matching description.
Shot glasses of water and espresso ambled through the middle of the round table, ready to serve as palate-cleansers between truffle bites. Yes, I did consider the cumulative effects of sugar and caffeine, but the whole…experience was going to be a guaranteed rush anyway.
Last but not least, two lamps from home shed a soft glow, balanced by shadows in the corners of the windowless room. Off with the glaring overhead lights, on with the intimate vibe. Well, as much as I could get in this space with the ginormous roaster looming and burlappy bean bags huddling on nearby pallets.
Once Rafe arrived, I’d lock and set the alarms for the three outside doors. I’d also lock the roastery door to the hall—and check it twice. I was taking no chances with intruders of any sort this time around.
“What’s all this?”
I jumped a mile. Stealthy, thy name is Rafe.
Whipping around, I found him leaning against the hallway doorframe. He raised one eyebrow and moved into the room, looking around. I was speechless for once, and Rafe took advantage by walking right into my personal space.
He buried one hand in my hair and grasped my shoulder with the other, pulling me to him for a kiss. And not just a haven’t-seen-you-since-I-fed-and-walked-the-dogs peck on the lips. No, this was an in-your-mouth-and-planning-to-stay-a-while kiss, complete with tongue lashings.
Needless to say, I remained speechless…and a little breathless.
Rafe finally leaned back. I followed his lips before I knew what I was doing and gradually opened my eyes.
He smiled down at me, and I allowed myself a moment to feast on all that was Rafe. His short hair sparkling from the rain, his thick brows slanting over those intense cobalt eyes, his dark end-of-day stubble covering his strong jaw, just a hint of that rough scar showing through.
My face, my shoulders, my entire body relaxed under his warm gaze.
We stood there for I didn’t know how long. Coming out of my haze, I shook myself. I grabbed his hand and led him over to the cupping table.
“This, Rafe, is your official blind chocolate-truffle-tasting challenge.”
I rotated the tabletop so that the chocolate truffle in the box labeled “#1” faced him.
“Sit. Stay. And no peeking. I’ll be right back after I lock and alarm the outer doors.”
I waited a moment for his response—a grin this time and a chin lift—before I left to take care of the café doors. When I returned, I locked the hallway door— another knowing grin— and the outside roastery door.
Rafe was sitting on the stool where I’d left him, legs braced on the floor. I got distracted for a moment remembering those long muscular jean-less legs tangled around mine this morning. When my eyes rose to meet his and he smirked, my face got all hot. Probably hot pink to match the pink dog collar in the Chocolate Lab logo.
Guess I have to show him who’s boss…at least in this little blind chocolate-truffle-tasting scenario.
I strolled up behind him and reached over to snag the blindfold from the table. My chest may have pressed against his back in the process, and that may have been why he stilled. He stayed that way…still, that is…while I tied the rolled-up scarf around his eyes.
“Rose. Babe,” Rafe growled. “I don’t like to be kept in the dark.”
Oh, so serious, for the man of few words. And why did those few words cause another hot flush…elsewhere?
“Rafe,” I whispered close to his right ear. “This chocolate-truffle-tasting punishment is all in good fun. You’ll describe each truffle, based on only your talented coffee-tasting tongue, not your eyesight. I’ll match your words to one of the truffle descriptions on my scorecard. At the end, we’ll see how many you got right.”
“Will there be a reward for the most right guesses?” Ahhh…now he was catching on…to the point of the challenge. Other than helping me narrow my choices of truffles for our gift tins.
“You’ll have to wait and see.” Literally. Wait and see what I was wearing under my usual T-shirt and jeans.
“I’m game,” he grunted out.
Oops, did I say that last part out loud?
All righty then. I picked up the scorecard and settled my heinie on the stool next to Rafe. I opened the first little white box…and saw the not-so-little chocolate truffle inside. Dalmatian. I was going to need a knife to cut this hulk in half.
“Rafe, hang tight for a minute. I have to go get a knife from the kitchen.”
“Nope.”
“Nope?”
“Nope. You don’t need to go anywhere.”
“This thing is huge.” I paused and waited for the “that’s what she said” moment. Not forthcoming, so I guessed Sergeant Amato had missed out on The Office overseas.
Instead, he said, “I have a knife you can use. If you can pull it out of its sheath. Unfold it carefully. Watch it because it’s honed sharp. And sterilize it afterward.”
How could I turn down that gracious offer? From a man of apparently many words, at least when it came to my safety.
I slid from my stool and crowded between his legs. He held still, again, while I dragged the knife out of the leather holder on his belt and unfolded it. Rafe was right—it had a keen edge and looked ready for business. I was surprised he was letting me use it for something as…as… frivolous as our tasting game.
I turned around to the table and startled a little when he wrapped his arms loosely around my waist. To steady me—right? Pinching chocolate truffle number one out of its box, I sat it down on the bare wood. Ever so slowly and, yes, carefully, I cut that big boy in half. I laid the knife down with the blade pointed away from me and spun back to face Rafe, truffle bite in hand.
“Open your mouth,” I commanded. Before I could push the chocolatey goodness through his lips, he reached up and circled my wrist.
“Wait.”
“Why?”
“Part of tasting is smelling.” He inhaled deeply, his chest expanding to meet mine. When he breathed out, I leaned in to catch his warmth on my lips.
He opened up, and I placed the truffle half on his tongue. He chewed for a few seconds, swallowed and swiped his tongue around his lips to get any stray bits.
“Are you ready?” Rafe asked.
“For what?” I mumbled, a tad…hazy at this point.
“For me to tell you what’s in this truffle thing,” he grumped out.
“Oh. Yeah.” I had to get with the program here. “You sound pretty confident. Go for it.”
I leaned over and grabbed the scorecard and pen from my stool while Rafe started to describe what he’d tasted.
“Besides the dark chocolate, I picked up notes of something floral. It’s spicy too—I think there’s cardamom. Maybe a dash of cayenne. I also got some coconut—not the actual stuff, but like extract or oil.”
He paused, rubbing his lips together. “Good thing it’s rolled in cocoa powder. Offsets all that sweetness.”
It was a match, almost word for word, with the description of the Lavender De-luscious Truffle. But I couldn’t let his tasting talent go to his head.
“Not bad for your first challenge, Master Roaster. Let’s see how you do on a new one.”
Rafe muttered something about a “tough audience” while I marked “#1” in the blank beside that truffle’s name.
“Before we move on, would you like a shot of espresso or some water to clear your palate?”
“The espresso…no, wait! Only if you didn’t put a fuck-ton of sugar in it—or any, for that matter.”
“Wow, suspicious much?”
“Well, what do you expect? I can’t see a damn thing, and I didn’t pull the shots myself.”
Ooh, somebody was getting testy.
“No worries,” I reassured him in an overly sweet tone of voice. “See for yourself…well, if you could see.”
I handed Rafe one of the espresso shot glasses. While he downed that, I shoved the other truffle half into my mouth, chewed (de-luscious!) and chugged my shot. Could anyone say sugar and caffeine high?
We put the blind tasting routine on repeat three more times…with one variation for the last one.
Rather than placing the truffle bit on Rafe’s tongue by hand, I positioned it on my tongue and made the transfer.
He grunted in surprise but recovered and attempted a full-on French kiss. I turned my cheek just as fast—although he left a smear of chocolate there—and pulled back to demand a description.
He grumbled a bit but moved on from there. His talented tongue was on a roll, teasing out ingredients that matched the written descriptions.
When I tried to turn back to the table to cut up the rest of the truffles—four down, five to go—I couldn’t.
Was it my imagination, or were Rafe’s thighs caging my hips more tightly? It was getting humid in here too. Maybe I’d forgotten to turn down the heat when I locked the doors?
Or was it the sugar-caffeine-Rafe rush getting me all hot…and bothered?
I didn’t get answers to my questions because Rafe ripped the blindfold off his eyes, grabbed my hips and lifted me onto the table. All in one movement, I swore—although I may have been a little distracted while yelping my fool head off.
He nudged my knees apart so he could stand between them. Leaning to my left side, he swept the truffle boxes and shot glasses away to make room on the table…for me. I didn’t know what happened to his knife, but the shot glasses? Good thing those sturdy little guys would bounce, not break.
“Rose. Lift your arms,” Rafe demanded, all brisk and abrupt.
I was in an obeying mood—or maybe I was getting hotter by the second. The moment I raised my arms, he whipped my T-shirt off and threw it toward the roaster.
Rafe followed this with a “lie back” command, but before I could move, he pressed me gently down, using one hand between my breasts. The other hand cushioned the back of my head. Once I was lying flat, he stood up straight again and made short work of my shoes and socks. When it came to my jeans and my new hot pink cheekies, he yanked them both off in one go.
By this time, I was staring up at the high roastery ceiling and surrendering…to an attack of the giggles. I couldn’t help it.
Maybe I was light-headed or…or…lighthearted, for once in recent memory.
Evidently, I didn’t put out enough serious vibes for Rafe.
“I’ll give you something to laugh about,” he growled. He reached to grab both my arms and pulled them together over my head. The next thing I knew, he wrapped the scarf around my wrists and tied it in a tight, but not painfully tight, knot. Hooking his hands under my knees, he lifted them up so my heels sat on the edge of the table.
Yeah, I felt a little exposed, even though I was still wearing my balconette bra—new and lacy and hot pink because, you know, matching.
Not afraid, though—I trusted Rafe. And I trusted myself that I’d locked all the doors.
“Turnabout’s fair play. Although this isn’t a chocolate-truffle-tasting challenge. This is a frozen-Rose-tasting challenge, and I’m the sole judge.”
I stopped giggling and started shivering. I didn’t think it was from the sugar-caffeine double-whammy.
“Hmm. Where’s my knife?” He was talking more to himself than me. “I need to remove that last layer.”
Uh…what? No, no, wait a minute. I raised my head and peered down my body at Rafe. He’d retrieved his big ole sharp knife from somewhere and was eyeing my bra. Or maybe my breasts, I wasn’t sure. Even from this angle, I could see my sharp points sticking up and over the balcony.
“Stop!” I whisper-shouted.
“Stop?” he groaned. “You want me to stop now?”
“Yes!”
He started to back away.
“No!” I said, a little panicky. “Well, I mean ‘yes’—please stop.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Which is it, Rose?”
“You can unhook my bra in the front. No need to cut it off.”
He put the knife back on the table and reached over with both hands to undo the clasp between my breasts. He spread the halves back so I was fully revealed, and he leaned down to give each breast peak a quick lick. Warmth gushed, and I rubbed my thighs together.
Rafe stopped and raised his head.
“Rose, be still. Your challenge is to remain frozen,” he cautioned.
Ha. Easier…challenged than done.
Rafe disappeared from view. What is he doing down there? While I was oh-so-tempted to lift my head and look, I knew better and stayed still.
I even closed my eyes and tried to slow my breathing so I wasn’t panting.
That helped when he waved something under my nose—chocolate with a hint of ginger?—and settled it in the hollow below my throat. He repeated this scent-and-settle routine five more times, and—I admitted—I was back to panting at the end.
Mostly because of where the different truffle bits arrived. Besides the hollow between my collarbones, one balanced on each nipple, one cushioned in my belly button, and one nestled in each crease where my thighs met my groin.
How long can I keep up this whole frozen thing? Who’s going to melt first—the chocolate or me?
I had my answer when Rafe’s mouth landed on my throat. Sucking up the truffle, chewing and licking, seemingly all at the same time. I opened my eyes and looked down, afraid to move my head. He met my glance and smiled like the devil he was—chocolate coating his lips and, no doubt, smearing my neck.
He moved to my breasts, lapping up the chocolate bit from each tip in turn. When he paused to suck and nibble and bite each one again, I started to moan and shift my thighs together. He immediately stopped and stared me down—hard to do when I was already lying down flat, but he managed.
I froze…on the outside at least. Inside, hot pulses shot from my breasts to my core. Rafe whirled his tongue around my belly button to scoop up the truffle there. Before moving on, he drew in a big breath. Did he detect the chocolate or my arousal—or both, in a succulent mixture?
I had no answer since I was out of my mind by this time, thrashing my head back and forth. He sucked up the remaining truffles, nipping my thighs in the process, and settled between my legs.
“Rose. Babe. Rose.” Rafe called my name a few times before it penetrated…my moans were so loud. To be fair, he was hoarse and groaning and hard to understand.
“Rose, I’m going to get you all messy and dirty with chocolate, but I need to taste you right now. Okay?”
The last was barked out more like a command than a question, but I understood what he wanted. I lifted my head and nodded once.
That was all he needed. He buried his face between my thighs and licked into my core, tasting chocolate, no doubt, and me. I came with a scream…unfrozen at last.
We were gonna need to sterilize the cupping table first thing tomorrow.