Play Me (18 page)

“Hell no!”
I grabbed for her, pinning her to the bed.

She shrieked, but
miraculously kept her hold on the ice cream, which she stretched just
past my reach.

“A kiss for a
bite?” I asked.

“Mmm, I don’t
know,” she teased. “This is really good ice cream.”

“Is that a
challenge?” I demanded, but before she could answer, I slanted
my mouth across hers. Oh god. Chocolate and Ella. A potent
combination.

When I surfaced, we
were both panting. Without a word, she handed over the ice cream.

“Thank you.”
I took it, too turned on to be smug. Without thinking, I shoved a
huge spoonful of Ben and Jerry’s into my mouth. “Ooouch,”
I winced as the cold shot to my brain. “Ice cream headache.”

“Clearly you’re
a man who can’t handle your ice cream,” Ella observed and
took back the pint. “Small spoonfuls,” she ordered.

We ate in comfortable
silence for a moment, passing the ice cream back and forth.

“Can I ask you
something?” Ella finally asked.

“Sure.” I
turned towards her. “Anything.”

She glanced at my chest
and then downward into her lap. “Who’s Lucy?”

“Ah.” I had
expected this. That’s what you get for getting it tattooed on
your body, Jake. The girls you sleep with always want to know who she
is. Usually I didn’t like to talk about it, but for some
reason, I didn’t mind telling Ella.

“Lucy was my
mom,” I explained. “She died when I was twelve. Car
accident.”

“I’m
sorry.” She put down the ice cream and took my hand. “Were
you very close?”

“Yeah.” I
fiddled with my spoon. “She’s the one who actually got me
into cooking. She was a genius in the kitchen—completely
self-taught, too.”

“I bet she’d
be pretty proud of you now.” Ella squeezed my hand. “Mr.
Head Chef.”

I shrugged, even though
I knew Ella was right.

“What about your
dad?” Ella asked, and I guess she had a right to be curious
considering that she had actually spoken to him while I was sick.

“We’re not
close,” I told her. “He never really understood the whole
cooking thing. Still doesn’t. I’ve worked at Grassfed for
over five years—he’s never once come to eat there.”

“Have you asked
him?”

“Wouldn’t
matter if I did,” I said, even as I tried to remember if I had
ever actually just asked him to come to the restaurant. I must have.
Right? Either way, he should have come a long time ago. My mom
definitely would have.

Ella didn’t say
anything, but she passed me the ice cream.

“My parents don’t
really understand the whole classical music thing,” she
confessed. “They’re all jazz musicians.”

“But you’re
really good.” I took a bite of ice cream. “I don’t
know anything about classical music but even I can appreciate that.”

Ella blushed. God, I
loved it when she blushed. Especially now that I can see that the
blush goes all the way down to her chest. And what a chest it was.

I cleared my throat,
trying to focus on Ella, not on her boobs.

“I really want to
win the competition,” she said quietly.

“You will,”
I told her.

She glanced up,
surprised.

“What?” I
asked.

“You’re the
first person to tell me that,” she confessed.

I didn’t
understand. “What about your parents? Or your teacher?”

Ella shook her head.
“They’re supportive, but they don’t think I can
win.”

“They’re
wrong.” I had no idea what her competition was, but from where
I stood, Ella was definitely deserving of the top prize. Or at least
the confidence to believe that she could get it.

“Looks like we
both have parents that don’t really understand us.” Ella
dug her spoon into the ice cream.

“And yet we’re
both doing pretty well for ourselves,” I finished. “Not
too bad for a couple of black sheep.” I reached out and tapped
my spoon with hers. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”
She smiled at me and I couldn’t help it—I leaned over and
kissed her.

It was supposed to be
an innocent kiss, but I was learning that nothing was innocent when
it came to Ella. When I pulled back she had a wicked grin on her
face. Still holding her ice cream spoon, she tilted it forward,
letting the melting ice cream drip onto her collarbone. She shivered.

“Oops,” she
said.

I shook my head at her.
“Naughty girl,” I murmured, leaning forward to clean up
the ice cream. With my mouth.

Ella lowered the sheet
and let another drip of ice cream fall. This time it slid down her
chest and onto her breast.

“I think I’m
ready for an encore.” She put the ice cream aside and leaned
back, gorgeous and smiling.

Me too, I thought,
reaching for her. Me too.

Ella

It had been days since
I had thought about the competition. I knew I should be focusing on
my final performance, but my mind (and nights) were full of Jake and
nothing but Jake. The last round of the competition was two weeks
away, and a few days ago, the mere thought of it would have sent me
into a panic. But now, there were other things on my mind. I still
practiced, of course, but for the first time I was having fun when I
did it. I was enjoying the music and Jake made me feel as if I could
do anything. For that reason, I avoided Mark’s text messages,
all of which urged me to come to his studio to practice. He felt the
need to oversee my process, he kept saying, especially during this
critical time. I knew I would have to go eventually—he was
still my instructor—but I wasn’t in any rush to see him.

The week was a haze of
food and sex and Jake. Our schedules adapted to each other’s.
My early mornings became early afternoons, and his late nights were
no longer as late—he seemed to rush home every evening so we
could be together. Sometimes we were together several times before we
finally fell asleep. My body had never felt so alive or so sore. Jake
introduced me to pleasure—and positions—I had never even
imagined. Everything felt new and exciting and wonderful.

I sat at the counter in
his apartment, watching him cook. I couldn’t imagine anything
sexier, okay, well I could imagine a few things. I could even
remember a few things, but Jake in an apron, baking brownies, well,
that was something I wouldn’t forget any time soon. If only he
wasn’t wearing his shirt—that would make it even more
perfect.

The entire time he
baked, Jake narrated his process. I could see why all the girls in
his cooking class were in love with him.

“Some people like
to add fancy frills to their brownies,” he was saying, mixing
the batter together. “There’s always some new
trend—cheesecake, salted caramel, mint swirl—but if your
brownies are good, you don’t need anything else. Just
chocolate.” He tasted the mixture, the pleasure on his face
evident.

Mmm, I thought, both
about the brownies and the person making them.

He caught me eyeing him
and raised an eyebrow.

“Guessing you
want to try?”

I expected him to pass
me the spoon, but instead, he dipped his finger in the batter and
extended it towards me. A few weeks ago, I would have blushed and
turned away. The new me wrapped my hand around his wrist and took his
whole finger into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the incredible
chocolate.

“You really are
going to kill me,” Jake groaned once I had gotten my fill. “But
what a way to go.” He poured the batter into the pan and set it
in the oven.

I stole the bowl with
the remaining batter and was running my finger around the inside.
Somehow I had gone from a girl who ate nothing but canned soup to a
woman who licked brownie batter from a guy’s hand and then the
bowl.

Jake set the time.
“Twenty minutes,” he said and turned back to me, a wicked
grin on his face. “What could we possibly do for twenty
minutes?”

“Finish this
batter,” I said innocently, licking my fingers.

Jake’s eyes went
hot. “You’d have to eat it very slowly,” he told
me, coming around the counter.

“Well, I like to
take my time,” I informed him, pulling the bowl closer to me.

“Oh, I know.”
Jake gave me a wink. “I like taking my time too.”

He approached and
leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of my hips, trapping
me in the barstool.

“Feel like
sharing any of that?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“You
are
greedy,” he murmured, leaning in closer, his nose nuzzling
against the side of my neck, his mouth just barely touching my
throat. Then he kissed me there, hot and wet, his teeth taking the
tiniest bite. “No worries.” His voice vibrated through
me. “I’ve got something sweet right here.”

Then, he dipped his
finger into the batter and drew a line of chocolate on my exposed
collarbone.

“Hey!” I
protested, but only until his tongue swept across my skin. I closed
my eyes at the sensation, my head falling back.

I felt another line of
chocolate painted onto my skin, this time leading downward. Like
before, Jake’s mouth followed it and then went even further,
unbuttoning my shirt and kissing his way down my exposed torso. Once
my shirt was completely undone, Jake pushed it off my shoulders and I
let it fall to the floor, leaving me in the sheer black bra I was
hoping he would discover.

“Baby,” he
moaned, and I opened my eyes just in time to see him paint brownie
batter onto my bra, where my visible nipples were taut and waiting.

“Oooooh.” I
fisted my fingers in his hair as his mouth turned its focus to my
breasts, licking me through the thin material. After he lavished
attention on both of them, his lips found mine. My tongue was waiting
for his; the sweet and hot taste of chocolate overwhelmed me.

Barely missing a beat,
Jake swept me into his arms. He glanced over at the oven.

“Fifteen
minutes,” he informed me, taking me to the bed. “How many
standing ovations do you think we can manage in that time?”

But I was already
tugging at his apron and shirt. The teasing and foreplay was fun, but
at that moment, I wanted him now.

“I want you
inside me,” I demanded, continuing to shock myself with my
forwardness.

Jake’s own
surprise flickered across his face, but was replaced immediately by
need.

“So bossy.”
He grinned and shucked off his apron.

I wiggled out of my
jeans as he shed his shirt and pants. He wore nothing underneath. I
reached up towards his bedside table, grabbing a condom from the
drawer.

Scooting towards the
end of the bed, I took him in my hand. He felt hard and smooth and
incredible.

“Do you see how
much I want you?” Jake asked, as I stroked him slowly.
“Goddamn.” He threw back his head. “That feels
amazing.”

Emboldened by his
response, I leaned forward and placed my mouth over him, taking as
much as I could. I felt his hands fist in my hair.

“Oh god,” I
heard Jake groan from above.

Drawing my tongue over
the head, I tasted him, the salty essence that was all Jake. Suddenly
his hands were on my shoulders, pulling me up against him, his mouth
slanted across mine. He made quick work of my bra and panties, and I
heard the ripping of foil. His hand slid between our bodies and I
felt him roll the condom onto his hard length.

“Wrap your arms
around my neck, baby,” Jake ordered, and as I did, his palms
cupped my ass, lifting me. One hand pulled my leg up and around his
back, his cock pressing against my opening. Then it slid inside.

I held on tight, my
moans muffled in his shoulder as my other foot left the ground,
joining the other one as I clung to him. With his hands tight on my
ass, Jake lifted my body and brought it down, his cock going even
deeper.

“Oh my god, Jake,
that feels so good!” I cried, as he thrust into me, the muscles
in his back and shoulder flexing beneath my hands.

“Fuck,”
Jake groaned as his knees buckled and we fell onto the bed, my legs
still wrapped around him, his cock still buried inside of me. Not
losing his rhythm, he thrust into me hard and fast. Pressure built,
and I dug my nails into his arms as my orgasm hit me.

“Oh
gooooooooood,” I moaned.

Then without warning,
he withdrew. Before I could complain, I felt his hot tongue sliding
inside me as he pulled my legs over his shoulder. Reaching down, I
buried my fingers in his hair, just as he had done to me, guiding him
exactly where I needed him most. He licked and stroked me, his hot
mouth bringing me back to the brink, before I tumbled down again, my
entire body shaking with the intensity of my orgasm.

Then he was inside me
again, his cock buried deep. I wrapped my arms around his back,
pulling him closer. Impossibly, I began to tense again, and I buried
my face in Jake’s shoulder, my moans vibrating through my
entire body as I came again. Above me, Jake’s movements became
frantic. Throwing back his head, he gripped my hips and gave one
final thrust before collapsing on top of me.

We lay there for a
moment, our bodies still joined, my limbs completely useless. Jake
turned his head and kissed me on the neck.

“You can boss me
around any time you want,” he said, his voice thick with
satisfaction.

Before I could respond,
I heard the kitchen timer go off. I thought of the bowl of batter
still sitting on the counter and knew I’d never think about
brownies the same way again.

Ella

“Remind me again
how you got invited to my parents for dinner?” I grumbled to
Jake as we walked towards the front door.

His freshly shaved face
wore a grin. “Well, you were covered in chocolate and had to
take a shower and made the mistake of leaving your phone with me.”