Chapter 9
MAGGIE
My mouth is sore from laughing so much. I’ve spent the day with Arlo and my parents, and it’s been happy and hilarious. We did the brewery tour, and after lunch we hiked one of the short trails that has an amazing view over the valley.
My parents were exhausted, so they went back to my place and I came back to Arlo’s. He made spaghetti bolognaise for dinner, which we devoured while chatting easily. Now I’m making dessert while he watches me from his perch on a bar stool at the kitchen counter.
“When did you know you wanted to be a pastry chef?”
I stir the chocolate vigorously, checking for any lasting lumps. It’s got to be just the right temperature when I pour it over the blueberry mousse which is on two plates before me.
“When I was about ten years old. I used to bake with Mom, and one of my cakes won a prize at our town fair. It was judged by one of those celebrity bakers from TV, and when they gave me the prize, she told me I had a talent and I should use it. I took her seriously. But it wasn’t until culinary school that I realized desserts were really where it’s at for me. ”
I take the pan off the stove top and focus on the pouring, letting the warm chocolate drizzle over the slice of mousse and then doing a zig zag pattern on the plate.
Arlo watches me intently, making my cheeks heat. I’m not used to being watched while I cook, but I don’t mind his gaze on me.
There’s chocolate left in the pan, and I put it back on the stove top and turn the heating element off. Then I spin one of the plates toward Arlo and hand him a fork.
“Voila.”
He scoops some of the dessert onto the fork, and my gaze follows it to his lips. As soon as the flavors hit his taste buds his eyes close, and a satisfied groan comes out of his mouth.
My pussy flutters at the sounds he’s making. I never knew how sexy it could be watching a man enjoy a dessert you’ve made.
Captivated, I watch him take another forkful.
“This is good,” he says between mouthfuls. “Really good.”
I’m beaming as I bring a forkful to my mouth. The flavors explode on my tongue, and I let out a moan.
Arlo’s watching me, and his eyes grow hooded. I know what that means, and my pussy clenches.
Memories of his face buried between my thighs slip into my mind. I look down quickly before he can read what I’m thinking about in my expression. I’ve never done anything so brazen before, but it felt right with Arlo.
He pushes his stool back and comes around the end of the counter and into the kitchen. He’s so much bigger than me, and his body radiates a powerful male energy. His presence is so forceful that I back up against the kitchen counter.
“Is there any more?”
But it’s not me he’s come for, it’s the dessert. I try not to let my disappointment show.
“Only the chocolate.”
He reaches past me and takes the small pan from the stove top. I left the spoon in there, and when he takes it out chocolate dribbles off the end of it.
“You want some?”
He offers it to me, his eyes sparkling with mischief. I don’t know what game he’s playing, but if a hot man offers me melted chocolate, I’m not going to say no.
I move my head forward and open my mouth, but at the last minute Arlo jerks the spoon away. I glance up at him, and his eyes are sparkling with laughter.
I try again, and this time I’m too quick and capture the spoon in my mouth, but not before a trickle of chocolate lands on my chin.
“Let me.”
Arlo leans forward and presses his mouth to the stray spot of chocolate. My breath hitches as he laps up the chocolate, nibbling on my lower lip and licking it off my skin.
Prickles of heat skitter across my body; my gaze meets his, and there’s desire in his look. Desire and mischief.
He moves the spoon around the pan and holds up the chocolate laden spoon. It was hot when I was cooking, and all I’m wearing is my blouse with the top buttons undone. My breasts are pressed together, showing a valley of cleavage, and this is where he aims the spoon.
“What are you…?”
Before I can finish my sentence, warm gooey chocolate hits my skin. It trickles between the valley of my breasts, leaving a warm sticky trail.
“Whoops.” Arlo chuckles. “I better get that.”
His eyes are dancing, but I don’t resist as he runs a finger over my chest and scoops up sticky chocolate. His touch has me on fire, and I want him so bad I whimper.
He chuckles at the sounds I make. And instead of licking the chocolate off his finger, he brings it to my mouth.
His fingertip nudges my lips, looking for entry.
My tongue flicks out and laps the chocolate off his finger while his gaze is on my lips, mesmerized as I suck his finger into my mouth, sucking off all the sweet chocolate until I swallow it down.
By the time his finger pops out of my mouth, we’re both breathing hard.
I want Arlo. I can’t deny it. We’ve agreed it’s just for the weekend, because I can’t give him any more than that. But I’ll make damn sure I make the most of my weekend.
We move at the same time. Our mouths smash together as we rip at each other’s clothes. He pulls my blouse off, sending buttons popping. They land on the floor and skitter across the kitchen. His mouth devours the chocolate on my skin as his fingers undo my bra.
Not bothering with the spoon, Arlo scoops chocolate onto his fingers and smears it over my breasts, leaving a sticky mess on my body.
Heat pools in my core, and my panties gush with my arousal. I’ve spent my life making desserts, and now I am the dessert.
What I love about cooking is not just the end result.
I love the creation. I love the messiness of it.
I pull Arlo toward me and rub my body against his, transferring chocolate sauce onto his torso.
He’s my favorite dessert and I lick him up, teasing his nipples with my tongue the way he does to me.
Then I’m pulling at his jeans, not sure what I want but knowing there’s a need inside me that only he can fulfil.
He drags his jeans off and makes quick work of mine. We tumble to the kitchen floor in a mess of discarded clothes and chocolate.
“You’re my favorite dessert.” He swirls chocolate sauce around my nipples, and I stifle a cry as jolts of electricity course through my body.
His head moves down my stomach and I guess where he’s heading, but I want more. I want to give him a good time. I want to eat him up for dessert too.
My hands tug at his boxers, and his huge cock pops out. I freeze. It’s enormous. I’ve never seen a penis in the wild before, and this one’s huge and erect and throbbing purple like a ripe blueberry. My core clenches as a pearl of pre-cum beads at the tip.
“It looks like a blueberry,” I blurt out.
Arlo chuckles and sits back on his haunches.
“You could have said an eggplant. I’m not sure a blueberry is what a man wants his dick compared to.”
I lick my lips, impatient for a taste. “Blueberry is my favorite fruit.” I wiggle myself so that I’m positioned before him and pull him up to his knees. “It makes the best desserts.”
The pan has been discarded on the floor, and I take a scoop of chocolate and dribble it on the tip of his cock.
Arlo gasps, and his eyes widen in surprise. I love that I can surprise him like this. I bet he’s never had his dick made into dessert before.
Before he can say anything, I dip my head and lick the chocolate off his twitching cock. We groan at the same time.
I’ve never tasted anything so sweet. My tongue laps up the chocolate, making sure to lick every part of his shaft.
“Christ, Maggie, that feels good.”
Encouraged by his words, I keep his cock in my mouth as I reach for the chocolate, but he stops my hand.
“Let me take care of you.”
I pop his cock out of my mouth but make sure to keep a firm hold on him. “Don’t interrupt a girl when she’s halfway through dessert,” I warn him.
He chuckles. “You can finish dessert, Maggie, but I want a taste too.”
He lies down on the floor and pulls me across him so that I’m straddling him backwards. “We can both enjoy dessert this way.”
Heat floods my neck when I realize what he wants. Until yesterday I’d never done more than kiss a boy, and now I’m contemplating a sixty-niner on the kitchen floor.
His breath tickles my thighs and I wiggle into position, giving him access to my pussy while I reach for his cock.
The first lick has me squirming, and I can barely think straight. It feels so good I want to push down and writhe on his face until I come. But his blueberry cock glistens, and it’s too tempting.
Getting a good lot of chocolate in my hands, I run it over his cock, coating it from shaft to tip. His moans reverberate against my clit, and I almost lose it.
Somehow I manage to concentrate long enough to suck his cock into my mouth. I’ve never done this before and I’m sloppy, but he tastes so fucking good covered in chocolate and pre-cum.
I lick and I suck, and when my jaw gets sore, I lube my hands up with chocolate and run them down his shaft. From the noises Arlo makes, I can tell what he likes.
The pressure in my pussy builds until I can’t stand it. Using my hands and my mouth I work his dick; my head bobs up and down, and my pussy grinds into his face. I’m so fucking close I can’t stand it. But I want him to come too.
My movements get jerky as I lose focus. I’m sucking and tugging for all I’m worth. And then I explode. My pussy gushes all over his face, and at the same time his cock lengthens. Hot cum squirts out of the end of his cock. It hits the back of my throat, and cum and chocolate mixes in my mouth.
My tastebuds jerk at the sweet cream he pumps into my mouth. I swallow him down as my body convulses, lapping up every trace of chocolate and cum.
When I climb off Arlo, I’m sticky and happy and can’t get the grin off my face. This is so much better than being at work.
The thought slams into my brain and makes me sit up hard on the wooden floor. I should have been at work today. Instead of making a mess on Arlo’s floor, I could have been making a proper dessert.
This is how it starts. You miss a few days here and there, and then before you know it, someone else has come in and taken the promotion. Being a top chef is a competitive business, especially for a woman. If Travis thinks I’ve hooked up with Arlo, he’ll think I’m not committed to the job.
The love bug has been going around the MC, and there are a bunch of pregnant women and happy men.
Every single one of the guys who have found love recently have gotten their women pregnant in the first few months of being together.
Travis will think that’s what will happen with us, and he won’t give the promotion to someone who’s about to go off on maternity leave.
“You okay?”
Arlo’s peering at me through lazy satisfied eyes.
“Yeah,” I lie. I’ve just had the best experience of my life, but I can’t repeat it. It’s only for the weekend, I remind myself again.
“Come on.” He stands up and helps me up. “Let’s get in the shower and get cleaned up.”
As I follow his perfectly rounded ass to the bathroom, a sadness settles on my chest. This is for the weekend. But that’s all it can ever be. If I want a career, I can’t have Arlo.