Cajun Vacation

by Mindi Winters

  “Years ago, when I started out, I turned it into a fully functional kitchen for catering and cooking classes that I occasionally ran,” said Laurent. “I tried to make it feel warm and inviting for the classes I ran, but most people prefer to be at the restaurant, especially since I started guest judging on TV.”

  A small lounge area sat off the main kitchen with ample storage in back. Laurent kept everything as spotless as in his restaurant. Sara put her bag down on a leather sofa. This was her first time in a professional kitchen, and her host was one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever laid eyes on. She still couldn’t believe that she had flirted with him at the restaurant. It had happened so abruptly. She used a line that she had heard Alicia use once. Her plan to stick to business hadn’t gone so well. Now her mind filled with ideas that Laurent was interested in her because of his own flirty comments.

  Years of experience taught her otherwise. Handsome, gorgeous men like Laurent, a growing celebrity in his own right, didn’t go for plus sized women like her. Celebrities had their pick of beautiful women and a man like Laurent could afford to be picky.

  There were sparks that flew between them. When he put his hands on her back it felt a surge of heat moved from his hands straight to her thighs. It was more powerful than any she’d felt before, but she would be a fool to consider them signs of love. Lust, maybe, if he felt them too. But she didn’t do flings. Sleeping with a man always took off a piece of her heart. Then when he tossed her away, it ended in heartbreak. She couldn’t afford any more heartbreak.

  The wild images she had of Laurent naked didn’t help, and she needed to get through this lunch, without doing anything rash — Like falling down on the nearby sofa with him on top of her.

  “So what’s for lunch?” she asked. If she kept his mind on food, then the meal would pass quickly, and she could be on her way. Unless he wanted me for dessert, she thought. She scolded herself for her lack of control concerning this man.

  He walked her around the counter and by the cabinets. “I have a confession to make,” he said. She braced herself for some sort of rejection. He probably just remembered an appointment, or a date. It always ended with goodbye. She should have known better then to start daydreaming about him.

  “This is the first meal I’ve made in this kitchen in over a year, so I’d like it to be something special,” he said, and her mouth dropped open. “It’s all about you Sara. What kind of foods do you really love and I’ll make something unforgettable. I’ll even teach you if you like.” He started pulling random ingredients out of the refrigerator.

  Her mouth dropped open for a moment while she caught her breath. Not one of her boyfriends had ever made her feel as special as this stranger. A man she had met less than fifteen minutes ago. She pulled her thoughts together. “I like the ethnic, spicy stuff. But I usually have a very light lunch so I can eat more at dinner.” Then she added quickly. “I’m on a diet.”

  Laurent dropped his knife, and it clattered on the cutting board. “You’re on a what?”

  She took a step back at the change in his voice. The way it rumbled through her, frightened, and turned her on, at the same time. She wasn’t sure which emotion to act on, so she answered. “I’m on a diet.”

  He turned on her, wild emotions roiled through his eyes, and he took her by both shoulders. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. Do you hear me? You’re a beautiful woman Sara. Absolutely amazing and desirable. Men should worship you and your body.” His voice ached with passion and she felt the heat of his grip ignite something down in the vee between her legs, but a louder voice in her head told her to run. Sara Canning — Ever practical, ever sensible, forever safe. So running is what she tried to do.

  She slipped out of his hold. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. My sisters and I can pass on dinner tonight,” she said, turning for the door. Before she took a single step, his hand was on her arm, spinning her around to face him again. She thought briefly of trying to hit him with her free hand, but the moment she faced him, his lips pressed against hers. Every thought short-circuited from the rush of electricity that flowed between them. Then his tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her, and claiming her. She let out a moan, both her hands moving to rake down every ripped muscle under his shirt as she kissed him back.

  He pushed her hair back and kissed down her neck to her collarbone. The kisses alternated between gentle and biting on her skin.

  He brought his head up from her neck. “Promise me you’ll never talk about dieting again,” he said.

  The thinking part of her brain still hadn’t started to work again, so she nodded. He let her go and pulled her back to the counter next to him. Her skin flushed and visions of Laurent kissing more than just her neck flooded her mind.

  “What will you do if I do talk about diets again?” she asked.

  Chapter 14

  He pursued women when he was interested. Usually they were all receptive to his advances. Especially after he started making a name for himself on TV, he’d had to rebuff more than his fair share of women that he didn’t want. But never once had he ever kissed, or touched, a woman without their permission. When he grabbed Sara and scolded her about being on a diet, he wondered if she might scream or run out to call 911. Then an overpowering instinct had taken hold of him and he just kissed her. Not a light gently kiss, or even an ordinary, passionate kiss. He’d kissed her like he possessed her and no other man could ever touch lips with her again.

  Even as she kissed him back, a voice in his head warned him that if he didn’t stop right away, he would push things too far and drive her away. So he pulled away from her. The kiss held promise, but he couldn’t move things too quickly, and he needed to show her he was a man who kept his own promises. Like the simple act of making her lunch. Then, if he had his way, they could explore their kiss in more detail.

  He barely registered her speaking. Then he stopped cold, his blood froze him in place as he turned his head to look at her again.

  “What did you say?” he asked, not believing what his mind told him.

  She shuffled her feet, turned up one lip, and put a hand on her hip. “What will you do, if I talk about diets again,” she said. Her low voice and body language left no room for doubt about her intention. His blood went from frozen to a simmer in seconds.

  He gazed into her eyes. “If you talk about diets again, then I’m going to spank you like a naughty child,” he said. He could feel his pulse. His breath slowed as he waited to see how she responded. Did he misinterpret her teasing, and just say something that pegged him as a crazy man, or was she really flirting with him.

  Her lips rounded like she was kissing. “D — I — E — T. Diet,” she said.

  He reached over, took her by both shoulders, and pulled her chest into his. “You’re a very naughty woman,” he said, and scooped her up with both hands to walk over to the sofa. He flipped her over, and laid her on her belly across his lap. His hand came down on her skirt before she had a chance to speak. The fabric muted the slap and she whimpered underneath his hand.

  “I don’t think that’s nearly enough punishment,” he said.

  “Harder,” she said her voice thick with need.

  His hand slipped under her skirt to move up the curve of her ass until it reached the tops of her panties. “I don’t think we need anything in-between you and your punishment,” he said. Then he tugged at them. She moved her hips as he slowly slipped them off and they dropped to her knees. He lifted the skirt until her ass was completely exposed. Her sex already glistened with moisture, but he didn’t intend to go there. Not yet. Not until she’d been spanked.

  His hand came down again and cracked against her skin. Harder than before, but still soft enough he knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

  “More,” she said as she pressed her ass back into his hand. She tried lifting her hips up to force his finger to slide across her pussy, but he wasn’t going to have any of that. This was his punishment for her, and she wouldn
’t end it before he was ready. His cock bulged in his pants. One of Sara’s hands covered it over his jeans.

  “Still not enough,” he said, and then his hand began a rhythmic spanking. Each blow growing in intensity and speed. His hand moving ever closer to the one spot she desired him to touch. Whimpers alternated with moans and she grew wetter and wetter. Her thighs heavy with moisture that dripped down her legs.

  Finally, he stopped, and gently slid his fingers across her swollen lips. He slipped one finger inside. She responded with a loud moan and bucked her hips back into his hand.

  “I’ve punished you enough Sara,” he said, slipping another finger inside her, sliding them in and out. “Now it’s time to make it all feel better.”

  She nodded her head in his lap. His fingers moved at a steady pace while her thigh muscles tightened their grip. Her hips joined the movement and their tempo increased. He felt his own heart speeding up as her sounds of pleasure rang through the kitchen. She stood on the edge and a single flick of his thumb across her clit sent her over the edge.

  She bucked frantically as her orgasm swept across her. He thought she might break one of his fingers that still massaged her insides. The second wave came right on the heels of the first until her spasms of pleasure subsided.

  He took his fingers out and laid her across the sofa. Moving behind her, he freed his cock and quickly rolled on a condom. She raised her hips higher to meet him. He teased the outside of her pussy lips with his head when she shocked him by bucking quickly back, driving his cock deep inside. He reacted immediately, pushing deeper into her. He thrust into her without regard for her own needs or pleasure. Long, powerful thrusts, each coming quicker than before, as he held tight onto her hips. Her arms gripped the sofa above her head. Her moans became pants. His own heart raced, and he fought the growing tide of pleasure building in his groin.

  One of Sara’s hands moved back under her belly and in between her thighs. He watched, thinking she was about to masturbate herself, but then he felt her squeezing and kneading his balls. Her touch sent a shockwave through him, and he went over the edge. His first orgasm hit as her second reached a crest. He drove his cock deep and she pushed back to take every inch.

  When the twitching in his cock finished, they fell on the floor next to each other and he slid out of her. He pulled her head to his and kissed her again, stroking her face.

  He broke their kiss and she lay next to him, exhausted yet wanting more. Her hidden kinky side had emerged with an insatiable need to make up for more than a decade of normal, boring sex, that she had had with men possessing less than a tenth the skill Laurent displayed. Aftershocks of pleasure wracked her body, and she marveled at how she could have so quickly had sex with a man she had only met a short time ago. If she could channel her inner Alicia, how much more did she have in common with her sister?

  She didn’t know, but this little taste of being bad felt good. She could finally understand what her sister found so attractive in casual flings. Laurent didn’t love her, and she’d get heartbroken, but he lit a flame inside her that she didn’t realize she had. He exposed a need that she had never seen or had fulfilled. Whatever he wanted to do for the rest of her lunchtime with him, she knew it would be just as amazing.

  “Incredible,” he said, and she blushed. Being embarrassed at some kind words, with her pussy exposed, didn’t make sense, but nothing about her time with Laurent was explainable.

  He stood and offered his hand to help her up.

  “We should get your lunch made,” he said. She held her face in check. The sex hadn’t given her any illusions that they had a relationship, but she expected more than just a quickie on the sofa. She knew better. Laurent got what he wanted. Now he was fulfilling his obligation to her. She pulled her panties back on and straightened her clothes out.

  “We don’t have to have lunch,” she said. “I’ll be by at 7pm with my sisters. Thank you.” She started to turn again when his familiar touch lit up the hairs on her skin. His eyes held an emotional storm, filled with lust and promise of something more.

  “I want to make you lunch,” he said, and then he dipped his head closer to her. “And dessert.”

  She gulped. Whenever he planned on finally pulling the rug out from under her and leaving her heart shattered on the floor in front of him, it wasn’t now. Her better judgment screamed to cut her losses and leave, but the newly awakened wild side pushed her to stay.

  “What’s for lunch?” she asked.

  Chapter 15

  He needed to think quickly, but his mind still reeled from the intensity of his orgasm. Feeling Sara break apart under his hands aroused him more strongly than any of his past lovers. The women he usually dated, made love like they ate food — without any true passion. Sara dressed and acted like a proper, professional woman. But she embraced passion that he doubted she knew existed until now. Her beautiful face cycled from shamed, embarrassed, even frightened, to lustful and full of sensuality. He wanted nothing more than to rip her remaining clothes off, explore every curve of her body, and cup her breasts in his hands before taking them into his mouth.

  But now wasn’t the time. The conflict in Sara’s eyes was real. She had opened up with him to deeply held desires, but she had doubts. If he pushed her faster, then her more business-oriented side might get the upper hand, and she’d bolt out of his life before he could pull her in further. He needed to pace things and show her that he could be trusted. That meant keeping promises. And he promised her lunch.

  He reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a head of cauliflower; then into one of the cupboards for some jasmine rice. She stood next to him as he laid the ingredients on the counter and took a knife. Her breath tingled against his ear when she leaned in to look over his shoulder, and he forced himself to think about the meal he intended to prepare.

  “Curried Cauliflower over rice,” he said. “It’s simple and easy to prepare, and it’s…”

  “Spicy,” she added, her eyes sparkling.

  He held his hands on the counter. “It can be spiced to taste,” he said in the calmest voice he could manage. Think about the food, he thought. “A mild or medium heat is best in this dish.”

  She pulled away, put on an apron, and then circled to stand on the opposite side of the counter from him. “So what can I do to help?” she asked. “You said that you’d teach me. Or was it demonstration only?”

  He slid the cutting board across to her. “I can’t think of anyone I’d like to teach a dish to more than you,” he said.

  The laughter and banter continued non-stop for the next hour as they prepped and cooked everything. A hunger simmered low in her belly that she knew had nothing to do with wanting to eat. The showman inside Laurent had turned on when she started cutting and she’d relished every minute of his company. She knew that she didn’t have anything comparable in her life to his being on TV, and that his act of teaching her was part of his showmanship. He probably thought she was good practice. In more ways than one, she thought. Still she intended to hold him to his promises, and that included dinner tonight with her sisters.

  She wiped her face. “I never thought I’d enjoy cauliflower that much,” she said after she took her last bite. “Do you need help cleaning up? I don’t want to just eat and run.”

  Laurent put his fork down. “The meal isn’t over yet,” he said, the rumble in his voice returning from earlier. “We still need to have dessert.”

  “We’ll be making dessert?” she asked, hope rising in her chest that her real hunger might be satisfied.

  He checked the time. “But it’s probably best if we don’t make it here,” he said. “Some staff is coming in for inventory soon. They can finish the dishes.”

  She stood up from the table. He wanted to take her somewhere, and she had no idea where, only that her body wanted to go. A good girl. A sensible girl would thank him for the meal and call it an afternoon, but being good seemed so overrated right now.

  “It’s only
a short walk,” he said.

  Her transformation to a complete slut would be official, if he took her to a hotel, and she went with him. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  He smiled and put his hand on her back again, walking her to the door. “My place,” he said.

  Chapter 16

  The walk took far longer than from the restaurant to his old kitchen, but she enjoyed every step. All along the street, people stopped to say hello to Laurent, and make comments on how they loved his restaurant, or his performance on Iron Chef. Everyone couldn’t wait until he finally arranged his own locally shot food show. Laurent moved with ease among all the attention, while she waited for him to quietly cut her loose, or move her into the background. But he didn’t. He introduced her to everyone who stopped them, putting her fears to rest, and including her in all the conversations. Eventually he slipped down an alley.

  “We won’t get stopped by anyone down this way,” he said, an obvious hunger in his voice. As easily as he moved in between conversations with acquaintances, he hadn’t forgotten about where he was going. Or why.

  She didn’t understand Laurent. He could have any woman he wanted. Several women eyed her jealously as they walked, his hand on her back. It bothered her more than she admitted that other women wanted him. Right now he was hers, and she had no intention of sharing. But the fact that no one really seemed to think that Sara being with him was unusual, left her more certain than ever of her eventual heartbreak. No man with so many other choices would be interested in her for more than a weekend, and since no one seemed to think she was out of place being with Laurent, the consultant mind in her knew that was only because it was common. He had a new woman so often that everyone considered it Laurent’s normal.

  It would end when she left New Orleans, if it didn’t end after ‘dessert’. She didn’t really expect him to make a dessert for her. Going to a man’s home after having sex with him, but wanting more, didn’t take a consultant to figure out the game plan.