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Ronnie
Dane’s mouth moves with determination over mine. Each plunge of his tongue claims me as his. Taking me and tasting me at once. His hunger is intoxicating. I wonder, have I ever been this wanted before? It’s pathetic but thrilling to realize I haven’t. Dane isn’t like any other man. He controls my body skillfully with eager hands. Suddenly he’s setting me on top of my desk and working my skirt up my hips.
“Oh fuck,” I moan as his fingers slide past my cotton panties and find my clit slick and throbbing.
“You’re so wet for me. Tell me you want my baby, and I’ll fuck you so full of my seed it’ll leak out of you.”
A shiver runs up my spine at the filthy promise. “Yes. I do. It’s fucking crazy, but I want you to fuck me, Dane. Give us a baby and tell me everything will be ok.”
“Fuck,” he whispers as his forehead falls to mine. The gesture is honest and shows a new side to him. “Everything is going to be perfect.”
A thick finger slips inside me, making me gasp with pleasure. My walls squeeze his finger, wanting more. I bite my lip to keep quiet. He pumps his finger inside me harder, shaking my desk. The sensation is so good I almost forget where we are.
“Tonight. Let me take you to dinner and to my bed.”
“Yes,” I whine, knowing we need to stop.
As sudden as it might seem, I believe him when he says he wants the same as I do. His warm eyes and possessive touch make me feel cherished. I wanted everything he was promising, but I was terrified it was all too good to be true.
Dane pushes another finger inside me, pumping and messaging my clit in rhythm. My legs are bare and spread wide around him, bucking into his generous touch. He growls against my neck, the light scruff of his short beard scratching against me and sending an array of goosebumps across my skin.
“Come for me for now,” he orders, and I obey easily as if it’s natural for me to take his commands.
In an instant, I’m rocketed to the peak and shattering apart in an intense orgasm. It rips through me as he kisses my lips gently. The stark difference between rough and gentle is the healing balm I didn’t know I needed from him.
Slowly Dane takes his hand back, and a whimper escapes my mouth without permission. It turns to a moan when I watch him stick those same magic fingers in his mouth to taste me still on them. His eyes close with pleasure at my flavor.
“Go to dinner with me?”
“I already said yes,” I say, still catching my breath, a bit dazed, and panting in the afterglow of my release.
“Good. Don’t change your mind,” Dane winks. “I’ll leave first while you get ahold of yourself.” He whispers and rubs his nose on mine. The gesture makes a field of butterflies take flight in my stomach.
Am I dreaming? Is this my life? All of a sudden, the introvert opens her own bakery in a new city, where she meets one of the most brilliant Chefs of her time, and he actually falls for her. And he wants to give her everything she wants.
“Pinch me,” I sigh.
He does, and I yelp in pain at his sudden attack. “Ouch.”
“See you in a minute, Chef,” he purrs before ducking out of my office.
This time leaving me a panting, satisfied, mess in dire need of caffeine after a release that shook me to my entirety. I slowly catch my breath and straighten my clothes, and my mind starts to panic. Did the staff hear me? Have I already lost their respect by spreading my legs for our guest celebrity chef?
When I sneak back out, everyone is busy prepping, cleaning, or baking something, so I jump in seamlessly, no one the wiser.
The day goes by quick. Each of us works on our side of the kitchen with different bakers, only breaking for a short lunch and the delivery of imported chocolate.
Liberty has really stepped up and is pulling her weight. She even found success recreating the same sauce Dane hated before, but this time, she got his approval, which was nothing more than a nod, but it sent her confidence soaring.
This started a buzz with everyone picking up momentum on the creations they were making, and soon hours went by as the place worked like a well-oiled machine. Every so often, I catch Dane smirking at me, and I blush. The bakers are all so nervous not to make a mistake and get his wrath. They mostly keep their heads down on the tasks at hand, not noticing our sly affections.
Dane’s praise of my recipe sends a swarm of nerves inside me, but I find a rhythm and push through. Not just because of the upcoming launch deadline but because an embarrassingly large part of me wants to impress him. I want him to respect me as an equal, even I that’s insane. I’m not and never will be on his level, and still, I want his praise. His respect is heady and warms me in places I thought were numb. I’m well versed in butting heads with alpha chefs and easily stay numb, but with him, it’s impossible not to notice everything about him. The way he savors food with deep brows, seemingly angry, but when he likes something, he fights to react, but the small wrinkles by his eyes give away his hidden smile. At least to me.
“What are we making next, Chef?”
His voice dances along my arm as he comes up beside me. My smile is too big, but this forbidden dance we’re doing, accompanied by all the sweet promises he made earlier, has me on cloud nine. I realize it only makes things more complicated, and still, I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.
“Hazelnut truffles with Belgian chocolate sprinkles.” His low groan makes me laugh. “They really are that good, I promise,” I say, offering him one, but instead of taking it from my hand, his mouth engulfs the treat, those sinful lips brushing my fingers. The scene is so hot I forget where I am and who’s around us.
