Taste for Temptation (Kimani Hotties)

by Bourne, Phyllis

  “I know I told you there would be three cakes, but you distracted me, and my timing was off on the lava cake and I want you to experience it fresh from the oven,” he said.

  “Believe me, I’m not feeling deprived.” She made a grab for a fork, but he put his hand over it.

  “Not yet, sweetheart.” The endearment slipped out before he could catch it. “First, let me tell you about each one.”

  She fell back against the headboard in a huff, folding her arms over her chest. Her lips poked out in a pout that made him want to kiss them.

  Adam dragged his attention away from her sexy mouth and tried like hell to keep his focus on cake.

  He blew out a breath before he began filling her in on the details of the competition.

  “While the professional chefs compete in five divisions including one with an extravagant showcase cake, self-taught chefs are only required to present two plated desserts,” he explained. “These are the final candidates for my second dessert. You’ve already helped me perfect the first one.”

  “I didn’t have much choice. You practically accosted me in the hallway.”

  “I don’t remember you putting up much of a fight.” He grinned.

  She reached inside his robe and raked her nails lightly over his chest. “Maybe I just can’t resist the irresistible.”

  Adam covered her hand with his, not wanting to lose the warmth of her touch just yet. “And am I irresistible?”

  She nodded. “And after last night you can add insatiable to the list.”

  He glanced at the sheet, barely covering her lush breasts and his cock stiffened. “You’re making it extremely difficult for me to keep my mind on the competition.”

  “Speaking of which,” Brandi said, “you never told me what prize the winner receives.”

  Adam ran down the list of prizes including the magazine articles, Food Network stint and cash.

  “A quarter of a million dollars.” She bolted upright on the bed, pulling her hand away from his chest. “Holy moly! With that kind of money, you could start the biggest, best chocolate pastry shop in town. No wonder you’re putting everything on the line.”

  He opened his mouth to tell her the money wasn’t a big deal. The other prizes were more important to him, along with the validation winning the competition would bring.

  Instead, he let the opportunity to fill her in on his background pass. The truth of it was he liked the way she looked at him and simply saw a man.

  Not a millionaire.

  Not a power-wielding vice president of a major corporation.

  Just him. The real him.

  “Well, what are you waiting on?” Brandi asked impatiently. “Bring on the cake.” She lightly poked a finger at his chest. “We’ve got a competition to win.”

  Adam cut into the first cake with the side of the fork and held the bite out to her.

  “Keep it up, you’ll spoil me,” Brandi said. “I’ll expect men to hand-feed me all the time.”

  “You deserve to be spoiled,” he said.

  She wrapped her mouth around the fork, took the bite of cake and chewed slowly.

  “Mmm,” she moaned and threw her head back. The positively indecent sound and her blissful expression were identical to what he’d heard and saw hours ago when she’d straddled his hips and rode him to her third orgasm of the night.

  Willing his cock not to rise, he pushed the delicious memory aside and focused on describing the cake.

  “You’re eating a chocolate almond sponge cake filled with bitter chocolate mousse, over a layer of crispy praline and topped with shards of dark chocolate.”

  “Keep in mind, I haven’t had one iota of training in judging chocolate or desserts,” Brandi cautioned.

  “I know.” Adam nodded. “But your suggestion to add espresso to the ganache of the triple chocolate cake was right on target. I respect your opinion. Just tell me what you like or don’t like.”

  She inclined her head toward the cake. “The intricate pattern on the sponge is remarkable. It must have taken you hours.”

  “The French call the decorative designs baked into the sponge a joconde imprime,” Adam said. “This one is good, but pales in comparison to the ones my grandfather used to create.”

  “So what will the judges be looking for?”

  “Taste will account for eighty percent of the score rounded out by five percent each for texture and aftertaste with the remaining ten percent of the score dedicated to overall impression.”

  Brandi ate a few of the crackers and took a sip of water before snatching the fork from his hand.

  “No fair trying to influence the judge.” She pointed it at him. “You won’t be able to manipulate the real judges by feeding them and sexing them up.”

  “Touché, Mademoiselle Collins.”

  “Nor will you be able to sway them with your sexy, French sweet talk.”

  “Okay,” Adam relented, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll back off.”

  He was as good as his word. He let her get on with tasting and restricted his comments to telling her what was in the particular cake she was eating.

  “The filling of this one consists of layers of milk chocolate mousse and chocolate meringue and it’s covered with an espresso dark chocolate ganache.”

  Brandi chased her second bite of it with a sip of water, then rested her back against the pillows and stared down at the two cakes.

  “The first one is very, very good,” she began. “When I initially tasted it, I thought nothing could beat it, and then I had a bite of the second one and fell completely in love.”

  Brandi prodded at the mousse and meringue holding the ultra-thin layers of cake together with the prongs of her fork. “It’s the texture. You look at it and expect something dense, but it’s so light it practically liquefies in your mouth. Definitely the better of the two.”

  “I agree, but it lacks complexity. There’s something missing,” he said. “It’s frustrating because I know it’s something simple. Maybe I’m too close…”

  “What have you tried?”

  Adam shrugged. “Citrus, berries, nuts, vanilla.”

  “Caramel?”

  He nodded.

  “How many versions have you made?”

  “I’ve lost count. By now I could probably make it in my sleep. This is the best one so far. I added balsamic vinegar to the ganache.”

  “That explains the wonderful sweet-tart zing to it.”

  Brandi nibbled at a few crackers to help reset her tastebuds before trying another bite, chewing it even slower than her first ones. He could practically see the wheels of her beautiful brain turning as she rolled the food around in her mouth.

  “You’re right. I believe your solution is simple,” she said. “My first suggestion would be to try it with a pinch of cayenne pepper added to the ganache, or scratch the pepper, and try a lavender-infused balsamic vinegar.”

  Adam thought about her suggestions. He’d definitely put both to the test later this morning. However, her idea to try lavender-infused vinegar truly intrigued him.

  “So what do you think?”

  He stood and removed the tray from the bed. He placed it on the bedside table before leaning down and kissing her soundly on the lips. “I think I have a genius in my bed.”

  “What does this genius have to do to get her clothes back?”

  “I don’t think that’s the question you should be asking yourself,” he said.

  “Then exactly what should I be asking?”

  He untied the belt on his robe. He watched her eyes drop below his waist and zero in on a certain part of his anatomy. It left no doubt he was in no hurry for her to leave.

  “Do you even want your clothes?”

  She let th
e sheet covering her luscious body fall away, and he had his answer.

  Chapter 12

  Brandi spent the next day in hand-to-hand combat with Murphy’s Law.

  She misplaced her cell phone.

  Changed a flat tire in the pouring rain.

  Threw a student out of her class for disciplinary problems.

  Spilled acrylic paint on her desk.

  Yet, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so utterly wonderful.

  Her mood didn’t go unnoticed.

  “What happened to you?” Lynn had asked her when she’d run into her in the hallway after their second-period classes.

  Brandi knew the rain had decimated her makeup, wrinkled her outfit and left her still-damp hair looking like ode to wet dog, so she’d automatically launched into an account of her car tire blowing out on the way to work.

  Her friend had waved off the explanation. “You know good and well what I’m talking about and it’s not a tire.” Lynn’s eyes narrowed. “You did it, didn’t you?”

  “What?” Brandi had feigned innocence, but couldn’t stop the grin she knew had spread across her face as images of Adam’s hands and lips touching her everywhere flitted through her head.

  If she hadn’t had to work today, she would have never left his bed.

  “You did!”

  “How did you guess? It couldn’t be that obvious.”

  “The smile, the swagger. When I first walked over I could hear you humming,” she said. “You might as well be wearing a giant sandwich board emblazoned with the words: I GOT SOME!”

  Her friend hadn’t been the only one.

  After work, Brandi had a session with Heather, and while the trainer didn’t have Lynn’s seemingly clairvoyant talents, she did mention noticing something different.

  “I’m the same woman you exercised into the ground less than forty-eight hours ago,” Brandi had told her as Heather led her through a series of squats and shoulder presses with eight-pound hand weights.

  She thought she’d dodged her trainer’s questions and scrutiny when Heather snapped her fingers.

  “I know what it is,” she’d said. “I don’t know how I didn’t notice it right off.”

  “You’re imagining things.”

  “Oh, no I’m not,” Heather shot back. “I worked you extra hard today, yet you haven’t whined or complained once. Instead, you’re smiling.”

  Fortunately, their session ended before Heather, too, figured it out.

  By the time Brandi pushed open the stairwell door on her floor of her condo building, she almost believed she was carrying a sign. She was so deep in thought, she didn’t see the well-muscled arm reach out for her as she passed Adam’s doorway until it was too late.

  “So you thought you were just going to sneak past my door without paying the toll.” Her neighbor hauled her against his hard chest.

  “A toll?” Brandi laughed. “For using the corridor?”

  “That’s correct. Now you owe me a kiss.”

  Before she could protest, he dipped his head and claimed her mouth in a kiss that made her toes curl inside her sneakers. His mouth tasted of mint and he smelled faintly of chocolate. When they finally broke apart, all she wanted him to do was kiss her again.

  “Did that cover my toll fee?”

  “I’m not sure, let me check.” Adam kissed her again, only this time instead of lowering his mouth to hers, he lifted her until her lips were on an even keel with his and her feet dangled above the floor.

  Brandi returned the kiss hungrily and basked in the delight of feeling weightless. When it was over, it was all she could do not to wrap her legs around his waist and beg him to take her again.

  “Maybe you should put me down now,” she said.

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  Brandi squirmed and pressed her palms against his chest. “I’m all sweaty,” she said. “Give me time to shower and by the time that molten lava cake is ready, I’ll be kicking down your door.”

  “You’re welcome to use my shower.” He tightened his arms around her.

  “But I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

  “I know.” He buried his face in the curve of her neck and began a trail of kisses down her throat. His touch soothed the aches from her workout, and every muscle in her body turned to jelly.

  A growl sounded and Brandi plastered her body even closer to his, enjoying the power to bring out the primal side of him.

  She heard it again and realized it wasn’t a growl at all, but the sound of someone clearing their throat.

  “Brandi Louise Collins!”

  Brandi flinched at the use of her full name, and her hands fell away from Adam as she turned in the direction of the familiar voice.

  “Mom, I…I wasn’t expecting you,” she stammered. Thirty years melted away in an instant, and Brandi felt like a four-year-old caught in the act of doing something naughty.

  “That’s obvious.” Jolene Collins’s disapproving gaze flickered from her daughter to the man holding her.

  Brandi pushed her hands lightly against Adam’s chest. This time he set her back on her feet and slowly released her from his embrace.

  “Mom, this is Adam Ellison. He’s my neighbor.”

  “Hmm.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed.

  Adam stepped forward and extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Collins.”

  Her mother regarded him with a frosty smile and another suspicion-laced, “Hmm,” but briefly shook his hand.

  She turned to Brandi. “I stopped by to talk to you about Erin’s wedding. I’ve been trying to call you all day. Didn’t you get my messages?” Jolene sniffed.

  “I lost my cell phone. I’ve been looking for it all day.”

  “Where?” Her mother inclined her head toward Adam. “Down his throat?”

  Brandi retrieved her key from her jacket pocket and unlocked her front door, eager to get her mother inside before she embarrassed her any further.

  “I’ll let you ladies enjoy your visit,” Adam said.

  “We’d appreciate it, Mr. Ellison.” Her mother walked past them into Brandi’s condo.

  Brandi looked at Adam and mouthed “sorry.”

  He grabbed her and planted a quick kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you later?”

  “Definitely.”

  Brandi stepped through the door just in time to see her mother surveying the refrigerator. If she was looking for anything fattening to rail on her about, she’d be disappointed. The only thing in her fridge was fresh produce.

  “So, Mom, what brings you by?”

  Jolene closed the refrigerator door and crossed her arms over her chest. “Mind telling me what the spectacle I witnessed in the hallway was all about?”

  None of your business. The words sat on the tip of Brandi’s tongue along with a reminder that she was thirty-four years old and didn’t owe anyone explanations.

  However, she was feeling good for the first time in a long while, and she didn’t want to dampen her mood with an argument.

  “Like I said, we’re neighbors. He moved in a few weeks ago.”

  “You two are pretty friendly to have known each other such a short while.”

  “We’re friends, Mom.” Brandi hoped that would be the end of it, but she knew better.

  “Your friend is awfully good-looking,” Jolene said. “It almost makes you wonder…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Why he’s kissing me?” Brandi asked aloud, before she could catch herself. “That is what you’re asking, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth, dear. All I’m trying to say is he looks like the type of man who could have his choice of women.”

  “And you find it hard to believe he wo
uld want me?”

  “My God, what’s gotten into you? You’re so aggressive this evening.”

  “I apologize if I jumped to conclusions,” Brandi said wearily. “You said you wanted to talk about Erin’s wedding.”

  “Oh, yes. I wanted to get an update on your diet,” she said. “How much have you lost? I can’t tell anything from looking at you.”

  “Seven pounds.”

  “That’s all? Well, it’s a good thing I had the foresight to make sure you have a bridesmaid’s dress that fits.”

  As she had so many times before, Brandi let the dig pass. This was her mother, after all.

  “Was there anything else?”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?” Her mother plopped down in a chair at the breakfast bar sending the silent signal that she wasn’t leaving until she was good and ready.

  “Not at all,” Brandi lied. “Would you like a soda or some coffee?”

  “No, thanks.” The older woman pulled an appointment book from her bag. “I need to double-check the days you plan to take off work for the wedding.”

  Brandi poured herself a glass of water from her filtered pitcher. “Valentine’s Day is on a Wednesday, I have the entire week off plus the Friday before.”

  “Good, I have everything covered, just in case I need you.” Her mother made a notation in the book and slammed it shut. “Now back to that neighbor of yours,” she said. “What do you know about him?”

  I know he’s smart, kind, generous and I enjoy his company very much. Brandi took a long, slow sip of water, and then answered. “We’re just friends, Mom.”

  “And what does your friend do for a living?”

  In a perfect world, Brandi would have told her mother about the big chocolate competition Adam was preparing for and then take her over to his place to sample one of his heavenly creations.

  Unfortunately, this was the real world.

  “He’s between jobs right now, but he’s working on something really big.”

  “I knew it!” Jolene snapped her fingers. “Your mama’s no fool, and I knew that man was up to something.”

  “What are you talking about?”