by Lia Lee
"All right. I'm sorry. He's just not you."
"I realize that. No one is. Do your job and don't call me unless it's an emergency. This is not one. Figure this out among yourselves and if you can't, then create a new dish. Be innovative and worthy of the position you've been given. Many others would love to have it."
"Yes, sir. I understand. Sleep well."
He dropped the call and tossed the phone on the couch beside him. There was no going back to sleep. Closing his eyes, he sunk down into the soft cushion of the black leather couch and imagined walking into Mariah's room.
It would feel so damn good to slide into the sheet with her. He could pull her close and tuck her back against his front, snuggling his cock between the soft curves of her ass and slipping his hand under her T-shirt to fondle her breasts, which were sure to be warm and soft.
"Ugh. Shit." He opened his eyes and sat up as his heart began to race. The image in his mind hadn't even been too terribly erotic, and yet he was panting softly like he'd just worked the girl half the night. It had to be because of her being everything physically he wanted beneath him. Her aggressive attitude and unapologetic nature were a bit refreshing, too. Just in the few interactions he'd had with her the day before, he found himself liking her.
Standing, he moved into the kitchen with the need to do something. Breakfast. He could make breakfast for the two of them, and hopefully learn more about her. He busied himself with whipping up French toast and a gourmet omelet while the coffee finished brewing.
Realization rolled over him, and he paused, breathing in deeply. She'd cleaned the kitchen. Deep cleaned it. He moved to his knees, unable to help himself. The baseboards were not only cleaned, but polished with an oily substance that made them stand out beautifully.
"Wow. I'm impressed," he mumbled.
"Checking out my work?" She walked into the kitchen as he sat up.
"Actually yes. It's good. Really good." He took her in, loving the tight-fitting yoga pants she wore and the runners’ T-shirt. Her tennis shoes were hot pink and gray, but old and worn out. He liked that she was feminine in her color choices, but the aging of her shoes told him quickly that she must have come from poverty, or still lived in it. He'd been a member of that club for far too long as a child. It could always be seen in the shoes on someone's feet first and foremost. Worn out from working themselves to death and yet not replaced because there was little money to do it.
"I'm glad you like it." She poured herself a cup of coffee and turned, leaning against the countertop. "I'm going for a quick run, and then I'll get started."
His eyebrow lifted sharply. "You need a jacket. It's freezing out there."
"Thank you, daddy." She smiled and took a drink of her coffee as she eyed him from just above the cup's edge. She was beautiful, intriguing and hard working.
"How about you just call me Darren?" He winked at her and got up, moving to the stove. "I'm almost done with breakfast. I was hoping you would join me."
She breathed in deeply and moved up beside him, leaning over to peer into the skillets. Her nearness was oddly comforting. The fact that the woman had the confidence to move so close to him was a little unsettling.
"Looks delicious. I'll wait and go jogging afterward. I can't remember the last time I had a good breakfast." She smiled and moved away from him.
He couldn't help but take note of the way his heart raced due to the subtle smell of her shampoo. It would be so easy to turn and pick her up, place her on the counter and press himself against the front of her while he consumed her mouth.
Get a hold of yourself. Shit.
"Do you cook much?" he asked, trying to make simple conversation.
"I love to, but my kitchen is really small. Like two-burner stove small." She let out a short laugh that told him that she was diverting. She didn't want to talk about her situation. He understood all too clearly.
"That's no good. Feel free to cook here if you like, just make sure to clean up properly. I'll show you how to wash my pans and pots later today if I have time. I'm extremely particular about my cookware. Most of it is from Italy." He plated their breakfast and walked to the kitchen table before sitting down beside her. "Breakfast is served."
"Wow. This looks incredible, Darren." She picked up her fork and paused. "So tell me why all of my other girls went running out of here so fast? You don't seem to be too terribly bad. Picky, yes, and you should wear a shirt around women you don't know and aren't trying to sleep with, but other than that..."
He chuckled. "Do you want me to put on a shirt?"
"No, but that's why you should." She glanced down at her plate.
"Your girls?" He pulled his chair up closer to the table and then worked to cut his omelet. "What do you mean, your girls?"
"At the maid service. It's mine." She took a bite of the French toast and groaned. The sound sent desire racing through him. It took him back to his early adulthood, to the moment of realizing how much power there was in creating delicious food for others to enjoy. It was a mixture of emotions that rushed through him.
"Yours? You own the maid service?" He put his fork down and tilted his head. "Why didn't you say something yesterday when I kept referring to your boss? What if I'd have said something horrible?"
She laughed and took another bite. "This is wickedly delicious by the way."
"Answer the questions, Mariah." He watched her closely. Her pretty pink tongue licked at the syrup on her fork, drawing him in so tightly that his body ached with the need to feel her mouth on him. Would she be willing? He could sink his hands into her long silky hair and help place her where he needed her, working himself in and out of her pretty mouth while she sucked hard and tried to keep up.
"I own it, and if you would have said something negative yesterday, I would have come clean. I don't like talking about myself too much. The girls were having trouble meeting your needs, so I figured I would come and assess why. I'm going to stay for a few weeks, and if we've developed a good working relationship by the end, then I'll send in a replacement for myself. If not, I'll help you find someone new." She glanced up as she took another bite. The enjoyment on her face caused his heart to skip a beat.
Scooting up, he tucked his lap fully under the table. His cock was fully erect, which left the thick tip pressing against the top of his pants with nowhere to go but just above his waist band. He needed a shirt. She was right.
"I like it. I would do the same if there was an issue with one of my customers. I'd spend a little bit of time finding out what they disliked and then redo the dish myself." He took a bite of his French toast and tried to advert his gaze, but couldn't seem to. The pretty woman beside him had his attention due to her looks alone. Now that she'd added in that she was very much like him in her desire to create a strongly structured empire that she was invested in?
He was soon to fall in love for sure...
Chapter 5
Three Days Later
Mariah
It had been a good week, and Mariah had quickly learned what Darren did like and what threw him over the edge in a rant. He wasn't around much, which actually made her time at his place much more like a vacation than anything else. She'd jog in the morning and clean up in the early afternoon, making sure everything was perfect by three or so.
Evenings by the pool and late-night cooking fests in his large beautiful kitchen were becoming standard events on her agenda. His restaurant was soon to open, which kept him beyond busy and out of the house most hours in the day. She hated to admit that she wanted more time with him, but she did. He was pushy and quite demanding, but she enjoyed it to some extent. As long as she pushed back a little, he usually backed down and treated her like an equal.
His compliments were much appreciated, and though they were rare, they filled her with a warmth she hadn't felt in a long time. The desire to please him surprised her a little, but she went with it.
After cleaning up earlier in the day, she made her way into the office, need
ing to answer a few calls and to meet with Karen for an hour or so. Darren had tried to call her earlier in the day, but hadn't left her a voicemail.
"Couldn't have been too important." She walked into her tiny office space and smiled as Karen glanced up.
"There you are. We were starting to worry that the big bad monster ate you." She stood and moved out in front of her desk. "So? How is he? Horrible?"
Mariah laughed. "No. He's demanding and a little edgy, but I just give him a quick taste of his own medicine, and he behaves. I like him."
"Wait. Like him like him or appreciate him as a client?" Karen followed her into her office and stopped at the door, leaning against the doorframe as she studied Mariah.
"As a client, silly. I'm not getting involved with someone that we service. That would be a serious conflict of interest." Mariah opened the blinds in her office and dropped down into her chair. "I'm only here for an hour or so. Let me get through returning some of these new client calls, and then I'll come visit."
"Okay, but is he hot? I keep hearing that he's by far the best-looking thing in the Vineyard." Karen wagged her eyebrows playfully.
"He's a very good-looking man, but as the other girls said... He's a handful and if he were to fall in love with anyone, it would be himself." She winked at her oldest friend and turned to the phone, starting to work through the list of people who were interested in their services.
Her cellphone buzzed on the table beside her, and she ended the call she was on to get it. Darren was calling again. Something had to be up.
"This is Mariah."
"Mariah. It's Darren. Are you at the house?" His voice was tense, which immediately filled her with concern.
"No. I cleaned up this morning and came into the office for a few hours. I needed to play catch up." She leaned back in her chair, loving the sound of his voice on the other end of the line. Tense or not... everything about him turned her on.
"Can you do me a favor on your way back out to the house?"
"Of course. What do you need?"
You. Naked on my bed, spread out and ready to take a long sweaty night of love making. I've fallen for you. A smile lifted her lips as the desired response she wanted to hear played in her head.
"I need you to grab a few things from the grocery store for me. It's been a long week, but I should get out of here around six tonight. I'd like to make dinner together and go over everything from this first week. Sound good?"
"Absolutely. Just text me the items you need, and I'll get them. If there is anything I can do to help get dinner started, just let me know."
"I'll send over the list. No need to start cooking without me. That's half the fun." He chuckled softly. "You still have my credit card?"
The sound was pleasant and one she looked forward to hearing more and more. It rushed across her senses and left her a little light headed. How he had the power to piss her off worse than a hornet’s nest one minute and make her want to cuddle up to him the next was crazy.
"Yes, but I can pick up dinner tonight. You've been feeding me all week." She brushed her fingers over her lips and closed her eyes, imagining her handsome obsession standing in front of her in black slacks with his white button-down shirt open and showing the beautiful swell of his chest and abdomen.
"Not happening. Use the card, please. Part of our arrangement is that I'll provide you with all the necessities that you're afforded. Don't take that right from me, or I'll have to make it equitable in some form or fashion."
A smirk lifted her lips. She could think of several ways he could make it equitable, but she kept her nefarious thoughts to herself.
"I'll see you tonight." She hung up and forced herself to finish making her calls. Afterward, she visited with Karen over the need to hire a few more girls. They discussed who her replacement would be at Darren's house, but she honestly couldn't see anyone taking her place.
"Let's just hold off on replacing me and focus on filling these new jobs. I have Mr. Botelli down to a science, and I can figure out how to transition someone new in when we have someone tough enough to handle him." Mariah repositioned her purse on her shoulder and walked toward the door.
"Why am I thinking there is more going on here than you're letting on?" Karen gave her a knowing look.
"Not sure. I promise it's nothing but a maid and her client. I wish I had a hot story to tell, but my life never works out like that." They laughed, and Mariah left, heading to the grocery store to gather the odd ingredients on her lists.
***
Mariah hadn't been back at Darren’s place for more than forty minutes before he showed up. The sound of the back door closing caused her stomach to tighten. It was nothing more than dinner and a review of their week, but it felt intimate. He hadn't been home to share a meal since their first breakfast together on Tuesday morning. Dinner on a Friday night almost felt date-like.
"Mariah?" he called out from down the hall. "It's just me."
"I'm in the kitchen." She picked up a hand towel by the sink and wiped down the counter one more time before turning and letting her gaze move across the kitchen. It was impeccable, cleaned spotless and smelled like heaven.
He moved up to fill the opening to her left and let out a long sigh. "It smells like lemons in here. I love it."
"I tried a new cleaner today. Glad you approve. I figured I might have a fight on my hands." She smiled, but the expression dropped as he moved to sit down in a chair at the dining room table. The slight curve of his shoulders spoke of an upset or perhaps exhaustion.
"I like it. Reminds me of my uncle's kitchen in Italy." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Forgive me. I'm so fucking tired. I love this part of the journey the most, but it seems to have just drained me this time around."
"What part is that?" She walked up behind him and stopped, moving her hands to his shoulder and pressing in. "Can I massage your shoulders for you?"
He groaned and nodded. "God, yes. Please."
"What part of the process are you in?" She pressed her fingers into the thick meat of his upper back and shoulders before rubbing his neck. The desire to lean forward and brush her lips along the curve of his throat was almost overwhelming.
"It's wrap up time, where we test the final dishes and wine pairings. Everything is done and everyone is trained. The opening is approaching fast, and where I'm excited, I'm also a little sad. It seems the minute I dream up a new restaurant, it’s in motion before I can blink twice, and I'm on to the next." He slid his hands over hers, pressing them to his shoulders as he glanced back at her. "Let's make dinner together. You're going to put me to sleep if not."
"I'm good with you resting if you need to. I've been told that I can make the best grilled cheese in the world." She moved back as he got up.
"Oh yeah? I might have to try that some time, but tonight, I want to make you Chicken Marsala. It's got a hint of white wine and mushrooms for earthiness. Sound like something you might enjoy?" His eyes moved across her face as if trying to memorize her. Something about the way he watched her left her feeling beautiful.
"Sounds delicious, but I don't want you overdoing it." She reached out and brushed her hand down his chest, knocking something crumbly from his shirt.
"I'm good, but thank you, momma." He winked. "How about you clean the mushrooms and start chopping them while I change into something comfortable."
"I can do that." She moved toward the counter and picked up the packet of fresh mushrooms. "However, you need to wear a shirt. I'm too tired to pretend that you're not incredibly attractive. Save me the energy of acting like it doesn't faze me."
His hands slid down her arms from behind, and his touch caused her to stiffen. The warmth of his breath just beside her ear caused goose bumps to race along her skin.
"You find me attractive?" He brushed his nose by her ear softly.
"Who doesn't?" She turned her face and gave him a cheeky grin, putting them far too close for comfort. His sapphire eyes moved down to her lips,
and he gave her a sound of appreciation before moving away.
"I'll wear a shirt, but only because you asked for it." He walked from the room, still wearing his chef outfit.
Dammit. Should have requested that he cook butt-naked with me. Never quick enough on the uptake.
She finished washing the mushrooms and had begun to cut them when he walked back in.
"No. Let me show you a better way to do it, Mariah." He moved in behind her and slid his hands over her, gripping the knife over her hand, and pressed his chest to her back. "If you angle the knife just so, you can move much faster."
He worked through the mushroom quickly, leaving her a little stunned by both his talent and his ability to steal her breath with nothing more than his strong presence.
"Nice. Thank you," she whispered, unable to find the volume of her voice.
"I'll start on the chicken. Tell me about your day. Did you get your new clients taken care of?" He released her and moved up to work beside her. The thin white T-shirt and jeans that hung low on his waist were almost too casual, but he pulled it off beautifully.
"I did, and I tried to find a replacement for you as well."
"And?" He stopped his preparation and glanced over at her.
"And I've not found the right woman yet." She shrugged and worked to apply his technique to cutting the rest of the mushrooms.
"That's because she's already here." He wagged his eyebrows playfully, which seemed so out of character and yet not.
"Oh yeah? You've decided to keep me? You realize I'm mouthy, and I don't put up with much."
"Yes, I do, but your ability to impress me, coupled with your beauty has left me thinking you should be a permanent fixture here." He wiped his hands on napkin and turned to face her. "Too much?"
"No."
"Good. I didn't think so." He chuckled and walked toward the fridge, leaving her to sort through the barrage of emotions that rolled through her at a frightening speed.
Was he teasing her or did he feel the same strong pull that she did?