Authors: Chloe Cole
“I knew you’d like it.”
“Who wouldn’t like it? You’re an amazing cook.”
He flicked out his tongue to capture a stray crumb off his
thumb, then sucked the tip into his mouth.
Gigi’s wide eyes were locked on him and he could have sworn
the pulse in her neck leapt.
Well hot damn.
“You were right, girl. You got me licking my fingers. So I
guess that means I don’t get to have what I want tomorrow night, huh?”
He pinned her with his gaze and let the question sit without
backing down from the innuendo or breaking the tension with a joke. In the
short time they’d spent together, his initial curiosity about her had morphed
into want. Not that knee-jerk, thoughtless want where basic needs met a warm,
willing body and made for instant but fleeting chemistry. More like that low
pull inside, the taffy-like thread that kept his thoughts tethered to her
whether she was right in front of him or not. The kind of want that had him
wondering how soft the skin on her nape was, or if he gripped her round hips
real tight while he slid his cock deep if he would bruise the soft, white skin.
It had been a very long time since he’d been that compelled
by a woman. In fact, he was hard-pressed to recall the last time. Might as well
test the waters. Quinn would probably be pissed at him for hitting on her chef,
but too bad. He’d just have to do it before she got there.
Gigi still hadn’t answered his loaded question, despite her
mouth opening and closing a few times. She cleared her throat and tried again.
“I’ll still make you something. What would you like?”
Her voice had gone reedy and she looked almost panicked.
That was good. She was definitely aware of him, and was starting to get that
maybe he wasn’t just teasing her. Her reaction was frigging adorable and he bit
back a smile. Maybe take it a little slower, though, so as not to scare her
off. There was no rush. He had two weeks. Two weeks to convince Gigi to sleep
with him.
Or one day to convince her and thirteen days to have her
over and over again.
His cock twitched in a tacit vote for option B.
He set down his knife and fork and stood, moving slowly
around the table. He held out a hand and she slipped hers into it. As he drew
her up, she gasped as their bodies brushed.
“I’d like to kiss the cook. Is that okay, Gigi?” he asked as
he tipped his head a fraction closer to hers.
Her huge gray eyes stormed up at him as she lifted a
trembling hand to her neck. “I’ve never been kissed,” she blurted, then slapped
a palm over her mouth.
His brain went dead for a moment as her words sank in like
the steely claws of a hammer. “Wait, what?”
She just shook her head, eyes wide with mortification.
He struggled for something to say as the blood rushed back
to his head and his two-week plan curled up and died. “It’s, uh,
perfectly…normal. I guess…ah fuck.”
“You don’t have to lie,” she said, sinking back into her
chair. She slumped forward and stared at the untouched plate in front of her.
“I know I’m a total freak.”
She looked so miserable, he put aside his disappointment and
scrambled for something to say that might make her feel better.
“Hey, at least you’re not sleeping with every guy in town.
You’re looking for that special someone and that’s admirable. I’m sure there
are plenty of people your age—”
“Stop. I know there aren’t, I’m not an idiot. I watch
Sex
and the City
. And for your information, it’s not that I’m, like, waiting
for marriage or anything. I never set out to save it for true love. I just
haven’t had time.”
Okay, now
that
was weird. “It doesn’t take all that
much time to kiss someone, Gigi.”
“I mean all of it. Kissing, petting, having sex. Not even
just the acts themselves, but the time to waste daydreaming about some boy or
falling in and out of puppy love. No time for drama. No time for anything,
really.”
“Why not?”
“I had to work. My dad died when I was thirteen. My mom had
the three of us kids to care for and not enough money to do it. I was the
oldest.”
It was the tone that hit him, right in the gut.
Matter-of-fact, not bitter or resentful or even sad. Just the way things were.
Her face was a mask of indifference, but Beau knew the pain had to be right
below the surface. “I’m so sorry, Gigi.”
She gave him a polite but distant half-smile. “Anyway, I
went to work as a bus girl getting paid under the table at night and going to
school during the day. I’d get home around midnight, do homework, sleep for a
few hours then do it all again the next day. That was life for the next five
years until I graduated high school. It was straight from that to business
school then to culinary school and more of the same, although bartending paid
better than bussing tables, thank God.”
“No dances, no football games, no concerts?” His heart gave
a hard knock for her as he thought back to the fun he’d had growing up.
“I was too worried about the electricity getting shut off
for any of that to matter much. Then, once we got out of the weeds a little, my
goal was to make sure I was never in that situation again.” She shrugged. “So I
worked. Hard.
“I never meant to let it go this far. It was like one day I
woke up a twenty-three-year-old virgin.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m going to
have to explain it all to the first guy I’m with, so I know it makes that
potential conversation more awkward the longer I let it go.”
She met his gaze then and tipped her chin up. “But I did
what I had to, and I’d do it again.”
He stared back at her in amazement and his desire for her
came back with a vengeance. In fact, if he’d found her attractive before, she’d
jumped the fence to thoroughly irresistible now. The discipline and focus it
must have taken her at such a young age to accomplish what she had floored him.
He’d liked her the second he laid eyes on her. He’d wanted her when he saw her
in his t-shirt. Now that he’d listened to her talk, he respected her. That was
a hell of a lot of feelings about a woman he’d only met a week before. And
still, those feelings settled deep in his bones as he realized she was exactly
the type of woman his mother had always wanted for him. A woman of worth.
Terrifying. Yet…
Again, he drew her up to stand before him.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, Ms. Somerville, if you’d do me the honor, I’d like to
be on the receiving end of your first kiss.”
Gigi swallowed so loudly, the sound echoed through the room.
“You don’t have to d—”
“Believe me, girl, this isn’t a favor. There is nothing I’d
rather do at this moment. Besides, it’s just a kiss. What harm could it do?”
Her gaze locked onto his lips and she nodded. “Okay then.”
His heart clunked, heavy in his chest at her answer. He
didn’t dwell long on the fact that this moment, the lead up to a simple kiss,
was more exciting than any groupie sex or threesome he’d ever had. Instead, he
settled one hand on Gigi’s full hip and curled the other around the side of her
neck, his fingers caressing her silky nape. The breath caught in her throat and
the sound sent his senses reeling.
She raised her face to his, her pupils dilating, her eyes
growing wide enough to drown in. Swaying forward, she pressed into him until
her soft, round breasts were flush against his chest. And just like that, all
chivalrous thoughts of a gentle introduction into the art of kissing fled as a
bolt of hot need blasted through him, setting his nerve endings on fire.
A low growl escaped him as he slanted his mouth over hers,
intent on nothing less than total possession.
Please don’t let me wake up.
That was her last coherent thought as Beau pressed his mouth
to hers. His kiss was pure sin, hot, demanding. Her lips parted and his tongue
slipped between them, tasting the tender inside of her bottom lip. A quiver
swept through her as his fingers tightened on her hip, urging her closer.
Desperate to oblige him, she arched forward, moaning into his mouth as his hard
cock nudged her soft stomach.
Her hands crept up to circle his waist and lock them tighter
together. He groaned his approval deep in his throat, then nipped her lower lip
sharply with his teeth. She gasped and he pulled back.
“I’m so sor—”
“No, no, I like it. Don’t stop.” She rose to her tiptoes and
smashed her mouth against his, kissing him with all her might.
The hand that had been massaging the back of her neck
slipped into her hair, knocking the clip to the floor. She thrust her tongue
mindlessly against his, wishing she could be closer, wishing she could touch
his skin.
His breathing was harsh in her ears, and the rise and fall
of his chest against her breasts was slowly driving her mad. Her nipples
strained against her bra, poking through the thin cotton separating them. God,
she wanted his hands on her so badly. Almost as if she’d said it out loud, he
released the iron grip on her hip and trailed his fingers upward. Over her
side, then her rib cage, before tracing lightly over her breast.
She froze, breath suspended as he paused. Cupping her
fullness, he ran a thumb over the throbbing nipple and she jerked forward as
the touch blazed a path from her breast to her pussy. Moisture flooded between
her thighs and she swallowed a cry.
Her heart was like a drum, pounding out a primal beat. A
saxophone blared in time. She stilled.
What—?
Beau dragged his mouth from hers. “Your pocket. It’s coming
from your pocket.” His voice was low and thick with need.
She swallowed and stepped back, letting her hands fall away
from his waist as she recognized the sound.
Some Like it Hot
by Robert
Palmer. Her ring tone.
“I’ve got to get it,” she mumbled and turned away. She
jammed a shaking hand into her pocket and yanked out the phone. Peering at the
screen, she grimaced as the number flashed.
Quinn.
She cleared her throat, ran a hand through her hair and said
a little prayer of thanks it wasn’t Skype. “Hey, Quinn.”
“Hey, Gigi. I tried to call Beau but he didn’t pick up. What
time will you guys be here tomorrow?”
She turned to face Beau and her knees nearly buckled. His
face was tense with want, the evidence of his need straining the zipper of his
jeans. She pinched her eyes closed. “What time are we getting them tomorrow?”
“We’re going to give Randy a few hours to sleep before he
has to get back behind the wheel, but we’ll be back on the road by four. Tell
her we should be in the city by nine at the latest.”
She relayed the information to Quinn then disconnected.
Beau walked around the table and sat back in his chair
without a word. He picked up his fork and started to eat, and after a minute,
she joined him.
Might as well get it over with. She met his gaze and
resisted the urge to look away. “I’m sorry, Beau. That was totally
unprofessional. It won’t happen again.”
“Don’t get all weird on me, Gigi. It was just a kiss.”
Although the lines of his face were still harsh, his tone was casual. “Don’t
worry, I’m not going to molest you or anything.”
More’s the pity
,
she thought, but responded
instead with a curt nod.
As much as she wanted it to be otherwise, it couldn’t
happen. She needed Hank Lemon and the Law to recommend her to everyone they
knew. Her business depended on it. Fooling around with one of the band members
was a recipe for disaster. Quinn would likely fire her on the spot, and Gigi
wouldn’t blame her one bit.
She forked up a mouthful of corn and chewed slowly. Time to
reassess. Business first, pleasure…well, never, she thought bitterly. At least
not with Beau Trudeau. Tomorrow they’d meet up with the rest of the band and
this forced intimacy would be a thing of the past. The groupies would be out in
full force and Beau would probably forget he’d ever been attracted to her,
which was exactly how she wanted it.
Wasn’t it?
Chapter Four
“So, how are things going with you two?”
Gigi was bent over, rooting around in a cabinet for a
saucepan, when Quinn spoke. “What do you mean?” she asked, opting not to turn
around so that Quinn wouldn’t see the guilt on her face.
“Just, you know, how are you getting on? Does he like having
someone cook for him? Is he leaving his dirty socks everywhere? I warned him to
be on his best behavior.”
Gigi and Beau had picked up the others that morning at their
hotel in New York. She’d managed to avoid Beau for most of the day by taking a
tour of Times Square then doing some produce shopping, but there was no
avoiding Quinn, who had insisted on keeping her company while she cooked.
She took a long, calming breath. “Oh yeah, he’s been great.”
She found the pan she needed and stood to face her boss. “He’s my favorite kind
of guy to feed. Love a man who appreciates a good meal.”
Quinn’s sharp gaze drilled into her and she fought the urge
to look away.
“He said he thinks you’re great. Feels really comfortable
around you already, like you’ve known each other a long time.”
“He’s so open and friendly. Hard not to like him, you know?”
“I do know. What I don’t know is how
much
you like
him.”
Gigi’s pulse pounded, blood rushing to the tips of her ears.
Her “poker face” had always been more of a “go-fish face” and Quinn chuckled.
Busted.
Gigi tried to make light of it. “Of course, he’s a handsome
guy, but you already knew that. He’s also charismatic, and it’s hard not to
notice. Don’t worry though,” she assured her, “it won’t get in the way of my
work. I would never get involved with a client that way, even if he did feel
the same about me. Which he doesn’t. But even if he did, I wouldn’t—” She bit
her lip to stop the babbling.
Quinn’s face fell. “Wait, what do you mean? You can’t date a
client?”