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I nodded, unable to form words, and closed my eyes as our lips touched.
My first thought — my only thought — was about the flavor of the wine lingering on his lips, and then the tentative touch became more demanding. Was it his need or my own that drove us closer? I don’t know. I only knew that his mouth was as intoxicating as any of the wine we had sampled that evening. It was heady and lush, and the feel of his tongue against my own made something inside my chest expand to the point I feared I would rupture, but instead, the feeling grew to fill my entire body, a gentle wave and crest so like an orgasm I cried out softly, overwhelmed.
Simon immediately backed off, his hand still cupping my chin, connecting us, his gaze concerned as he searched my face.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
It took a moment for me to collect myself and have control over my words again. But what was I to say? How to explain what his kiss had felt like? So, I simply nodded again.
“I’m fine. That was lovely.”
The blush that rose to Simon’s cheeks was visible even in the golden light cast by the candles. “The way you speak, Becks.” He shook his head. “It captivated me at our first meeting. That, and how gorgeous you were. You don’t know how disappointed I was when you told me what this dinner was for.”
“Truly?” I asked.
It was Simon’s turn to nod. “Truly. I almost turned you down since we already had a booking.” He brought our foreheads together. “You don’t know how glad I am that I didn’t because you intrigue me. You did in our first conversation, and you still do now that I know you better.”
I blinked away tears that were gathering in my eyes, and Simon wiped them away with his gentle hands.
“Thank you,” I said, but I didn’t know if I was thanking him for what he’d said or what he’d done, or, maybe, all of it. His attention, his care, his ability to create this experience. For me. He’d done this all for me. It overwhelmed me, and I closed my eyes against a new wave of tears.
I heard Simon shift his chair, then felt his knees nudge mine so he was wrapped around me. His touch left my face, but only so he could place both hands behind my head, his fingers weaving gently through the strands of my hair at the nape of my neck.
“You are beautiful, Becks, but I don’t think you’ve heard that often enough.”
This time, I closed the distance between us, bringing our mouths together in a heated clash of teeth and tongues. I turned so I faced him full-on, my knees caged between his, my hands grasping his upper arms as he held me still and devoured me. I felt that bubble of warmth expand again, but this time, it was accompanied by a jolt of desire that made my toes curl.
I couldn’t hold back the groan as I broke the kiss, tipping my head back, and Simon immediately moved his lips to my throat. I swallowed hard, the sensations coursing through my body almost overwhelming. My cock swelled, and I rocked my hips slightly wanting friction against it.
Without breaking our connection, Simon rose from his chair and straddled my lap. I cried out again as I took his weight and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tighter against myself. I couldn’t help the slow thrust of my hips when I felt how hard he was.
“Simon,” I whispered.
“Becks.”
His voice was equally hoarse as it ghosted over the heated and dampened skin on my neck. I shivered as he breathed over my throat, the sensation — so light as to almost be invisible — almost more than I could bear in that moment. My hands found their way to his waistband, and I tugged at the fabric of his shirt, pulling it up so I could touch him.
His mouth returned to mine, and we kissed deeply as I succeeded in my quest. I ran my hands up the smooth planes of his back, the muscles there strong and hard from his hours in the kitchen. I thought briefly of the sight of him as he’d begun to cook for me, the intense physicality of it, so much upper body work, had astounded me. Now, the visual informed the movement of the muscles beneath my hands.
And the tongue that invaded my mouth, conquered and took possession of it, was the author of so much I had experienced this evening. The tastes, the build of flavors and textures, the delicate structures that came together and resulted in this cascade of ecstasy…
“Simon…” I moaned as he let me come up for air. “I want you.” I punctuated my words with a thrust of my hips that made Simon groan. “Please.”
“God, Becks.”
My hands were under his shirt, but I suddenly wasn’t touching enough skin. I tugged his shirt up and over his head — thankful he’d only had on a tee-shirt under his chef’s whites — and then the glorious expanse of his chest was on display. He leaned back slightly to let me see, and I would have mourned the loss of his weight on my cock except that I couldn’t get enough of his glorious skin. His chest was lightly tanned with copper circles around his nipples and a lovely dusting of coarse, dark hair between his well-developed pecs. His treasure trail was a dark line traversing those well-defined abs. And his arms. Fully exposed now, I took in the firm lines and dips of his muscular upper arms and the definition of his forearms.
There was so much to see, and I had no idea what to touch first. I felt like I was sixteen again, seeing another man’s naked body for the first time and deathly afraid I’d come as soon as I touched him. And I hadn’t even seen anything of Simon below the waistband of those loose-fitting checkered chef’s pants. My hands roamed over his arms, his back. His skin was like polished stone, smooth and sensual, a thin membrane stretched over those hardened muscles that rippled like flowing water as he moved against me.
“My turn,” Simon said as he began to unbutton my shirt.
“I hope I don’t disappoint you,” I said, and Simon stopped.
I cursed myself, convinced this wild ride was about to end, but Simon only moved his hands back to my face and made me look at him.
“Becks. You’re beautiful, and I want you too. Do you believe me?”
I nodded.
