Undercover Lovers (5 page)

The smell of sweet
raspberries filtered into the air. Her stomach rumbled again with
appreciation. “What
are
you making?”

“
Crepes.”

If there was anything hotter
than a gorgeous man cooking over a hot stove for her, Saffron
hadn’t come across it yet.

“
Ideally, the batter should
rest first.” He shrugged his shoulders. Ideally, he’d have a stock
of aphrodisiacs to serve her. It couldn’t hurt, right? “But this is
light enough not to spoil dinner while making sure I don’t starve
you.”

After hopping down, she
crossed the room, stopping next to him to retrieve the glasses and
wine. He watched her peer into his refrigerator and stifled a smile
as she stood before the contents. It probably looked like a chaotic
assortment of greenery, items wrapped in cellophane and tin foil
and a variety of liquor bottles. There was no such thing as leaving
the job behind in his world. When he came home, his pantry and
fridge fueled the creativity that kept his restaurant ahead of the
others.

Saffron located the bottle
he’d meant and retrieved it. With a sommelier’s grace, she withdrew
the cork and poured two glasses. Not before inhaling the floral
bouquet and then taking a precautionary sip.

Watching her turned him on
like he couldn’t believe.

“
Chef,” she said, offering a
glass to him.

His fingers brushed hers as
he took it. Sexual awareness warmed his hand, despite the brief
contact. If he looked as needy as he felt, she should be running
scared.

He shifted his gaze away,
not wanting her to see or sense his eagerness. August laid a
spatula on the counter and with deft moves of his fingers, flipped
the crepe in the pan. “You know I’m not very good at
this.”

Saffron frowned. “This
again? You’re a great chef and now I’m actually starting to think
you just want to hear me say it over and over again.”

He chuckled. “No, I mean,
this. Us. I’m supposed to be learning more about you or telling you
more about me.”

“
Oh? Is there a manual that
says so?”

 
August poured more
batter into the pan, almost immediately afterward swirling it until
it spread enough to coat the bottom. “Isn’t that what women want? A
man who talks about himself and shares his feelings?”

She snorted. “Only if that’s
the kind of person he is, I suppose. That really doesn’t sound like
my type, though.”

“
What is your type
then?”

“
I don’t know.”

He arched a brow as he
slipped the done crepe from the pan. Without having to think about
the process, he started another one. “You must know what you like
or don’t like. Everyone has a type.”

“
I don’t think
so.”

“
Well, do you like a man who
wears his heart on his sleeve?”

“
Ugh. No.”

Thank God
. “Okay, then what about someone who’s always going on about
his feelings? You know, the kind who cries with you at tissue
commercials.”

She laughed. “Can’t say that
would do anything for me.”

“
What about someone who’s a
little more…forceful?” He glanced at her when he said the last
word.

“
Forceful how?”

The raspberry compote
simmered in a small saucepan. When a small bubble of the fragrant
mixture popped, August withdrew a wooden spoon from a drawer and
set to work stirring the fruit before it clung to the pot. Once
satisfied it hadn’t cooked beyond redemption, he removed it from
the heat. The spoon went into the sink, but for some reason, the
flat plastic spatula still laying next to the stove caught his
attention.

Instantly, a series of
decadent thoughts involving Saffron and the spatula raced through
his mind.

Fuck, he could just imagine
turning her over his knee and lifting the hem of that pretty black
dress. Ever so slowly revealing thick, delicious thighs covered by
sheer hose and then higher up to a pair of
white—
no,
black—panties, damp with her juices and stretched tight over
an ample ass.

Just thinking about it made
his hand tingle with anticipation. To slap his palm against her
soft flesh over and over again until her skin flushed a deep pink
made his dick stir. The thought of maybe even adding the spatula
into his play awakened the rest of his libido.

“
I don’t know,” he said
slowly, swallowing hard, “maybe a type A asshole who’s set on
getting his way.”

“
But what happens if he
doesn’t?”

“
Never mind that. He always
gets his way.”

“
You sound very sure of
yourself.”

August slipped the last
crepe out of the pan. With a different, small off-set spatula, he
spread a light layering of raspberry compote on each crepe. Saffron
remained standing by the stove while he gathered a large serving
plate and a fork. “This is where the forceful part comes into play,
remember? Now sit.”

Her eyes narrowed. “First
tell me why do you keep looking at that spatula and then back at
me.”

He almost laughed out loud.
If only she knew… “Sit first.”

There was a moment’s
hesitation from her, during which he wondered if maybe she really
was having second thoughts. He couldn’t blame her. They moved at a
reckless speed. But then Saffron sat. Before she could cross her
legs, though, August stepped in between them.

The pace of her breathing
quickened, her breasts rising and falling in what he hoped was
anticipation. Reaching for the fork and plate beyond her with one
hand, he slid the other onto the soft flesh of her thigh. “Now open
your mouth,” he said softly.

Looking into his eyes,
Saffron did as he commanded. As August lifted the fork topped with
raspberry filled crepe to her mouth, he slid his other hand beneath
the hem of her skirt. At the same moment her lips closed around the
food, his fingers wrapped around the cloth of her panties. She
hummed a soft noise, looking at him from beneath hooded lids. “So
good,” she practically purred.

“
Yeah?” He fed her another
bite and then another. All the while keeping his hand against the
softness of her skin. So close to uncovering her pussy, but not
nearly close enough.

Thank God, he worked on
automatic pilot cutting pieces of crepe, scooping up bits of
raspberry compote. Feeding her. His mind remained solely focused on
the fact he could slide his fingers against the plump lips of her
pussy at any time. A war raged within him; the chef ensured she
found oral satisfaction while the man in him wanted her sexual
satiation.

Before he knew it, there
were only crumbs on the plate.

“
That was delicious. But you
already knew that, huh?” Saffron asked as she realized she'd eaten
it all. “What about you though? Aren't you hungry?”

August kept looking at her
lips. Unable to help himself, he growled, “Starving.” Adding
credence, he captured her lips and devoured them.

The fresh taste of berries
burst upon his tongue when he parted her mouth with it. Saffron
matched him stroke for stroke, soft moans and encouraging whimpers
driving him. Making good on an unspoken promise, August tugged on
the panties still in his hand. She arched her body, helping him,
wriggling out of the material until they were nothing more than
scraps around her ankles.

Her hands clasped onto the
front of his jacket before she made short work of his buttons,
unfastening each. He could scarcely breathe for the need choking
him as she pushed the material away from his chest.
“
Liebling
,” he
groaned. English escaped him. Words vanished.

Saffron pulled away,
breathing hard. She placed a finger on his lips, sensing the frenzy
overtaking him. “Shh... Let me.”

He was panting, but August
went still. He clamped his jaw down, tightening until it pained
him, but he found his patience again.

And it was fucking worth
it.

Saffron stood in the
centimeters of space he'd left her and with the grace of a
ballerina pushed down the straps of her dress. Chin elevated, she
slowly revealed herself, inch by creamy inch of skin. From the
freckles decorating her chest, to the rose-blushed tips of her
ample breasts and down farther to the rounded flesh of her belly,
August stood enthralled as it all came into view. If anyone asked
him if he'd managed to breathe during any of it, he wouldn't be
able to say. All he knew was the glory being uncovered before him
and the pounding of his heartbeat.

Hands on hips, Saffron
canted her head to the side. “So…about that spatula?”

“
Turn around,” he forced
through a tight throat.

She twirled slowly, a vision
in heels and hose, and rested her hands on the island. With a husky
voice, she asked, “What now?”

August picked up the
spatula, sticky in spots from raspberry compote and moved behind
her. Letting her anticipation build, he studied the slender shape
of her calves, the dimples behind her knees, the delicious fullness
of her thighs. He admired the heart-shape of her buttocks and the
feminine contour of her hips.

“
Well?”

“
So impatient,” he murmured.
His hand went to the slope of her ass, rubbing its round form.
Saffron watched him from over her shoulder, teeth biting into her
kiss-swollen bottom lip.

She cried out the moment his
hand slapped one cheek. August offered her soothing words, circling
his palm against the warm spot he created. “Are you alright?” he
asked gently.

She blew out a breath.
“Yes.” Her head fell forward, her face turning away from him, but
August heard her next whispered words. “Again, please.”

Yes
!

His cock hardened into steel
when he smacked the other side, not with a lot of force. Just the
sound of his palm striking soft flesh enough to make his balls
tighten. He struck each side twice more before reaching for the
spatula. Saffron’s sultry cries turned into sexy moans of approval
when he modified the spanking with the kitchen tool. Her ass glowed
in sexy pink stripes, dotted with dark spots of raspberry
compote.

August growled as he dropped
to his knees, his sights on the raspberry speckles. He didn’t stop
to think when he opened his mouth over one dark temptation. He
simply gave in and let his tongue run over every single dribble of
raspberry he could find.

“
August!” she yelled.
Surprise and encouragement.

Heat and fruit filled his
mouth, while the sweet taste of Saffron overruled it all. His hands
massaged away the sting of his assault, but August let his tongue
make up for it.

She widened her stance and
August was rewarded with the first taste of her pussy. Damn, he
thought the raspberries had been sweet. Her juices were that much
sweeter.

He couldn't say how long he
kneeled behind her, lapping at her essence. Teasing her with his
tongue. The little bud of her clit was swollen, pink and
glistening, but he avoided touching it. When he was ready—when he
had her primed—he'd suckle it until shivers traveled through every
part of her body.

“
Turn,” he ordered with a
grunt. Using the back of his hand, he wiped the moisture from his
mouth, tempted to lick it away like an animal.

“
I don't think I can feel my
legs,” Saffron said, with a small laugh.

As he stood, he offered his
hand, pleased when she took it. “I'll take that as a
compliment.”

“
Of course it's a
compliment. You have to be the most humble man I have ever
met.”

Whatever he might have said
next tumbled from his mind when she faced him. He loved looking at
the lushness of her body. The softness of her curves. A slight
blush covered her chest. Her pink nipples were hard, tight buds.
The dip of her bellybutton only added to the sensuality of her
body. Only the triangle of downy hair at the junction of her thighs
could pull him away from gazing above her waist.

“
Christ Jesus, where have
you been?” he said, reverence in every word. How had he not met
this woman before? Whatever fate brought her to his restaurant
tonight, he'd thank while on his knees later.

Saffron crooked a finger at
him before tapping her lips with it. “Right here.”

He flicked open the button
at his waist before lowering the zipper. If he didn't provide some
more space in his trousers soon, his dick would strangle. He was
hard and aching. Beyond ready to sink into her. But he took a
minute to slip off his shirt before walking into her embrace. Just
one more kiss. One more taste of her lips that he had to
have.

Saffron's mouth went dry
when August removed his shirt. The man might have spent his days
cooking and eating, but every night must have been at the gym. She
didn't look at perfection, but something damned close to
it.

She loved the spread of hair
on his chest and the flatness of his abdomen. The muscles of his
biceps drew her attention and the strength of his forearms. Somehow
in a ten-second sweep, she managed to take all of that in, filling
her eyes during every moment.