Devour Me (Master Chefs Series #1) (9 page)

“No,”
she argued.  “If it were you, you would have pushed the flour aside and tossed
me the rolling pin.”

He
bellowed with laughter, a laugh that came from the depths of his being; a laugh
that was innocent and playful; a laugh she’d never heard before.

“I
think you’re getting to know me a little too well.”  He looked at his watch. 
“The moment of truth has arrived.”

Taryn
threw her fistful of flour on the counter and clapped her hands clean.  Feeling
triumphant, she opened the oven door, but quickly shut it again.

“What’s
the matter?” Errol said with a knowing grin.

“They’re
not ready yet.”

“That’s
impossible.  They’ve been in there the full eight minutes.”  He reached for the
oven door.

“I
said they’re not ready.” Putting her hand over his she tried to keep him from
opening the door.

“Another
few minutes won’t salvage your disaster, Taryn.”  He opened the door and smiled
as he pulled out the cookie sheet. “Perhaps when I mentioned that I wanted them
crispy and not crunchy, I should have also mentioned that I wanted them golden…
not tarred.”

She
looked at the unappetizing result of her inspiration.  “Sorry.”

His
eyes hardened with displeasure.  “I think you can take your apron off now,” he
said in a tone that nearly demolished her.  “You’re finished here.”

“Errol…”
She hesitated a moment, remembering she’d not put on a bra under her cami that
morning. Another harsh glare from Errol, however, and she untied her apron,
pulled it over her head and set it on the counter.  “I was only trying to…”

He
put up a silencing finger.

“Do
you want me to leave?”

“On
the contrary. I want you to stay and learn.”

He
set the cookie sheet on the stove and reached for the bottle of molasses. Turning
the bottle over, he read the label then tilted the bottle one side and the
other, letting the thick liquid run along the walls of the bottle.

Watching
him, she tried to gauge his mood.  Was he truly disappointed in the result? 
Angry even?  Or was he toying with her?

With
a quick sniff in the air, he looked into the saucepan she’d used then dipped
his finger into the buttery molasses. He looked at it, smelled it then tasted
it.  Without saying a word, he wiped his finger off on a towel then uncapped
the bottle and smelled it.

As
if looking for something, he ran his finger along the edge of the bottle
cleaning off the few sticky drops that remained.  He licked his finger,
flapping his lips together as he tasted.  “I guess there is a certain…”  He
puckered and swished his tongue around his mouth.  “A certain
je ne sais
quoi
about the flavor of molasses.”

“Just
because they look a little funny doesn’t mean they won’t taste good,” Taryn
said with complete lack of conviction.  “Why don’t you try…?”

Errol
put his hand up to quiet her and continued to examine the bottle of molasses. “Dark,
sticky, sweet,” he murmured.  He turned the bottle upside down and let a large
dollop drop over his fingers.

Glaring
at her, he held up his molasses covered fingers.  “Do you see how utterly
opaque this is?”

“Yes,”
she muttered.

“You
can’t even see my fingers through this black goo.”

“I
thought that, maybe, with the melted butter it would…”

“Honey
is golden and translucent.  Maple syrup is amber and clear.  But this…?”

“I’ll
be sure never to make the same mistake again.”

Without
warning, Errol reached out and slathered the molasses over her chest from one
shoulder to the other.

“I
want you to remember this day, Taryn.”

“I
will.”  She glanced down.  The molasses had already reached the top of her
white cami.  She didn’t know whether she should feel humiliated or infuriated.

He
brought the bottle above her heaving breasts and let the thick dark liquid
slide into her cami.  “I want you to remember how molasses looks… how it
feels.”

Saying
nothing, she felt the sticky liquid make its slow descent between her breasts.

“How
does it feel, Taryn?” His voice had dropped to a deep, smoldering tone.

“Wet,”
she whispered.

He
brought the bottle up to her shoulder and poured the remaining content.

“Wet
and…?”

“Sticky.”

Licking
his lips, he set the bottle down on the counter and scrutinized her.  “Wet,
sticky, and…?”

She
looked at him, looked into his eyes and tried to see… What did he want from
her?

“Wet,
sticky, and…?” he repeated.

“Sweet?”
she ventured.

He
brought his hand to her shoulder and rubbed the molasses over her skin.  With
dainty fingers, he pulled up the thin straps of her cami and let them fall over
her shoulders.  His hands continued to work the black syrup around and around. “You
hardly look sweet, my dear.”

His
voice had turned husky, almost dark and Taryn knew the game had changed.  It
was no longer a matter of an angry professor berating a clumsy student, or the
irate chef degrading his assistant.

The
temperature in the room suddenly rose, as did Taryn’s chest as it heaved with
labored breaths.  Her breasts were on alert, her nipples nudging relentlessly
at the thin fabric of her cami.

“No,
my dear…” Errol took a hold of the straps of her cami once more and pulled them
down past her elbows, exposing her breasts as he did so.  He let out a brief
gasp of excitement, but quickly contained himself. With hooded eyes and parted
lips, he brought his sticky, black hands over her breasts, covering them until
they were glossy. “You are dirty.  You are exquisitely dirty.”

Taryn
swallowed the ball of confusion that nearly left her drooling.  Her body cried
out with so many conflicting messages, she didn’t know how to react.  This
wasn’t supposed to happen.  He wasn’t supposed to touch her like this, and she
should stop him.

But
his hands… She inhaled, pressing her breasts further into his hands, hands that
were warm, hands that were gentle, hands that made her feel…

“Do
you feel dirty, Taryn?”

Her
lips parted and her tongue toyed with the notion of coming out, but not to
speak.  There were no words.  Her tongue wanted him, wanted to taste him.

His
thumbs flickered over her erect nipples, and Taryn let out a wanton groan as a
pulsating wave of ecstasy gathered between her thighs.

“Yes,”
he sighed.  “You do feel dirty, don’t you?”

He
brought his hands to the small of her back, bringing her closer. The slight
pressure of his hands arched her back, making it easier for him to sweep his
mouth over her breast. The tip of his tongue circled around, slow and teasing
as it licked off some of the molasses.

Groaning
from deep in his throat, he leaned back to look at his handiwork.  He licked
his lips and tilted his head to the side as he looked at her.

Taryn
looked down at her milky white breast, now clearly visible under the thinned
veil of black sugar. She swallowed the lump of uncertainty as she met Errol’s
gaze. Something playful lingered in his gaze, teasing… almost mocking.

“I
think I should…” Taryn choked out as she considered putting an end to this
game.

Before
she could finish her thought, Errol leaned in and licked the underside of her
breast, this time using the full breadth of his tongue.  He swept his tongue
over her nipple and onward to her collar bone.  But it was her nipple who
begged for more attention.

“Errol,”
she groaned.  Her head fell back as her fingers raked through his hair and led
him back to her nipple.

He
obliged, and suckled; hard and pulling one moment; gentle and teasing the next.
Taryn reached back to lean against the counter as he traveled through the
valley of her breasts to assault the other nipple. Her legs were about to give
out on her as an explosion of sensations threatened to bubble over.

Breathless,
Errol pulled back, his face smeared in black. The playfulness was gone and his
eyes reflected the urgency they both felt.  He looked down at her breasts and
brought his hands around her waist to smudge molasses along her belly.

“Beautiful,”
he muttered.  He reached for the fastenings of her jeans and quickly peeled
them off.  “Beautiful.”

Her
cotton underwear were damp with want and she felt a blush of embarrassment rise
to her cheeks.  Would he think her odd or strange because she had such a lack
of control over her body?

With
a soiled finger, he pulled back the top elastic band of her panties and looked inside.
“The more I discover of you the more beautiful you get.”  He shoved both hands
in and reached around to grab her ass. “I think we’ve gotten ourselves into a
real sticky mess,” he whispered as he leaned into her, burying his face into
her folds and licking her with long savoring strokes.

Taryn
arched her back and push her pelvis closer to him, clenching her teeth to keep
from screaming with pleasure. Errol’s tongue devouring her, his teeth grazing
against her sensitive nub was sending her to a point she’d never experienced
before…to a point she no longer had any control of her body. She convulsed,
shuddered, and shook with an intense pressure of pleasure, it rocked her to the
core.  “Oh God, Errol,” she cried.

“So
responsive,” Errol grinned, looking up at her where he was now lightly stroking
her with his long fingers. “And so beautifully dirty.”

“Like
I was trying to say earlier,” she finally managed to utter between breaths and
shudders. “I think I should take a shower.”

“Good
idea,” Errol said, tearing off the remainder of her clothes.

He
looked down his molasses-soiled shirt and strip down to nothing except his
hardness, and said, “There is no way I’m not joining you in the showers now.”

Chapter 9

B
efore the alarm clock went off, Taryn was
awakened by a subtle but insistent movement in the bed. It was Errol who nudged
his hard erection against her backside. Smiling, she cracked her eyes open,
eager to have him take her again.

“I
should be sated,” he whispered into her ear.  “I should be exhausted, but I
don’t think I can stop wanting more of you.”

The
night had indeed been exhausting.

After
a long and titillating shower, Errol had sat her on the bathroom counter and
gently parted her legs.  With bated breath, she’d watched him, intrigued…
eager. He’d already brought her such wondrous sensations with his mouth and
fingers while he washed her in the shower. What more did he have in store?

But
she could never have imagined the sensations to come. Errol brought his mouth,
warm and wet, to a heavenly little nub of flesh she’d never known existed until
that night. Stunned by the initial sensation, so intense, so pleasurable, Taryn
let out a small cry of surprise, grabbed the edge of the counter and leaned
back.

“Oh,
my God,” she let out as he continued to run his tongue along the flesh that was
now so exquisitely alive.  “Oh, Errol.”

“Oh!” 
Her cry, foreign and feral, echoed in the bathroom as her body was elevated to
a level of pleasure that seemed impossible.  She hovered there for a moment, an
exquisite moment of breathlessness, of waiting for the ultimate.

Errol
gripped her hips, tight and fierce as his tongue made the final assault.  With
one long, slow, delicious lick, Taryn’s body exploded in a rapture of ecstasy. 
She dug her fingers into his hair, keeping his mouth pressed to hers as her
body moved, convulsed with a will of its own.  Her legs straightened out, down
to the tips of her toes.

Before
her body could stop throbbing, Errol straightened up and plunged his erection deep
inside her, filling her. Her eyes widened as a short, sharp pain cut into her
pleasure, then subsided, replaced by the feeling of fullness and intense
sensation of him rocking in and out of her until he came, groaning with his
release.

Now,
as she lay beside him, the heat of his body warming hers, she longed to relive
every stroke, every lick, and every tantalizingly fucking again.

Errol
slid his hand between her thighs and quickly aroused her. “I don’t want to push
you to do too much too fast.”

After
that first, quick romp in the bathroom, they’d made love again, slower and
longer. They’d finally fallen asleep in each others’ arms, only to awaken a few
hours later when they began anew. Insatiable for each other, and wanting this
from the first day they met.

“Then
let me push you.” She turned to face him then rose to straddle him.

He
cocked a brow of interest as he watched her.  “My innocent virgin, do you know
what to do up there?”

“I’ll
figure it out,” she said with a teasing lick of her lips.

With
an intense gaze fixed on her inner thighs, Errol propped himself up on a
pillow, clasped his fingers together and brought them behind his head.

Suddenly
self-conscious, Taryn wondered if she’d not taken on more than she could
handle.  Uncertain of her moves, she nestled over his hardness.  Though she
longed to have him inside her, simply gliding over the length of him brought
her a degree of pleasure.

She
looked at Errol to gauge his appreciation.  His eyes narrowed and his tongue
played on the edge of his lips, but he remained somewhat aloof. 

For
a moment she considered abandoning all efforts, but her body wasn’t quite ready
to let go just yet. If there was one thing she’d learned over the course of the
night, it was the intense pleasure of an orgasm and how to attain it. With
slow, methodical movements, she sought her own pleasure, using her fingers to
tease her nipples, while she glided over him repeatedly, sliding back and forth
over the length of his erection, causing him to groan. The rising crescendo of
her orgasm came quickly, surprisingly quick. Closing her eyes, she leaned back
and let the waves of her orgasm sweep over her.