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“Sure. We’ll just conduct a little trial and error until we get it right.”
Melanie lowered her eyes. “That would mean a lot to me, Dominic. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now what’ll you have? I’m betting your tastes are somewhat diverse, maybe some pineapple, a few peppers. Tell me I’m close.”
“Not at all,” she laughed and looked up at me, shaking her hair out of her eyes. That hair, so dark and thick. It always seemed to be everywhere and always smelled like orange blossoms. “My preferences for pizza are simple, like my preferences for life.”
I sprinkled a generous helping of shredded mozzarella. “Is your life simple, Mel?”
“It is now—just me and my cats.” She groaned. “God, that sounds pathetic, doesn’t it?”
“Humble. Not pathetic.”
“I made a huge mistake when I married James,” she said suddenly.
“You can tell me about it,” I said. “If you want to.”
Melanie stared down at the dough and talked slowly, haltingly. “It was a really stupid decision. My folks had just died, and the guy I’d been dating in college decided he needed to be a hero. I was a fool to say yes. Neither one of us knew what we were getting into, and it didn’t last.” She sighed again. “Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll end up joining the cynics.”
“The who?”
She gave me a rueful grin. “The cynics. The scoffers who don’t believe in romantic ideals and argue that it takes two years and a lot of agony to properly fall in love.” She shrugged. “At least the mistake with James taught me a few valuable life lessons about blind trust and believing in heroes.”
I didn’t like hearing that from her. Melanie deserved optimism and hope, not wariness and suspicion. I didn’t know everything, but I’d seen enough to understand that she was as kind as she was beautiful. She was as smart as she was stubborn. She went out of her way to make each member of the staff feel valued and respected. She genuinely cared when her bad-tempered boss carelessly cut his hand open. She took the time to escort confused old ladies to the restroom even when she had a million other things going on. A woman like that deserved to be wined and dined and held and worshipped. She deserved every ounce of romance that could be squeezed out of this uncertain universe.
“Maybe,” I said slowly, “you need something more practical than a hero.”
Melanie watched me slide a pizza peel under the raw pie and then expertly deposit it into the mouth of the oven. The fire was stronger than it ought to be. I’d need to keep an eye on the pizza, or it would burn.
“More practical than a hero?” she repeated.
I faced her. “That’s right.”
“And I suppose you have a suggestion.”
I hung the pizza peel on a hook and took a step in her direction. “One or two.”
Melanie licked her lips. “Tell me.”
I looked her in the eye. “I’d rather show you.”
Her blue eyes widened, and her breath hitched, just enough for me to notice. “Then show me,” she said without a waver.
Those were bold words from her. But she knew as well as I did that this little dance we’d been spinning through was coming to an end. After weeks of holding back, her words were all I needed to hear to let go.
Two more steps and I was close enough to touch her. When I ran a fingertip along the delicate line of her jaw, she shut her eyes and exhaled raggedly.
Without saying a word, I eased around behind her and closed in, inhaling the heat of her body. She didn’t resist at all when I turned her around until she was facing the counter. I slid my arms around her waist. If either of us had spoken right then, the spell might have been broken, but she said nothing, not even when I pressed my chest against her back.
When I pushed her hair aside, she leaned into me with a sexy moan, and I responded by grinding my hips against her ass. She gasped a little, and I pushed against her harder, more insistently. I wanted her to feel it, to know what being this close to her was doing to me. And I didn’t give a hot damn about manners or ethics or whether there would be any consequences from fucking my own employee in the middle of the kitchen.
My palms brazenly cupped her breasts, my thumbs rolling over the outline of her nipples. She liked that, shuddering and breathing the words “Oh my god,” as her head rolled back against my shoulder. I wished I could see the look on her face now that I had my hands all over her gorgeous tits. They’d been stalking my dreams since the day she walked her prissy heels into my restaurant, and soon they were going to be mine. Very, very soon. But I was going to play with her for a little while first.
My mouth was right next to her ear. “The first lesson, Melanie, is that you’ve got to work the dough. So work it hard, and don’t stop until I let you.” I flicked my tongue out, tasting her hot neck. Then I sucked her skin, hard enough to leave a mark.
“Stick to the rhythm,” I demanded, my hands gripping her hips so I could make her move the way I wanted. “Don’t stop until I let you.”
Melanie was good at following orders. She kneaded the dough, pushing and pressing with both hands and shifting her body in rhythmic perfection just as I’d told her to. I rocked against her, straining and grinding. At this rate I’d cream my damn pants from all the friction. I had to grit my teeth in the struggle not to shove those tight jeans down to her ankles and get to work.
