by Gow, Kailin
“Why, the nerve…” She pushed the rolling pin aside and picked up a fistful of flour.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Errol chanted as he waved a finger at her. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“No,” she argued. “If it were you, you would have pushed the flour aside and tossed me the rolling pin.”
He bellowed with laughter, a laugh that came from the depths of his being; a laugh that was innocent and playful; a laugh she’d never heard before.
“I think you’re getting to know me a little too well.” He looked at his watch. “The moment of truth has arrived.”
Taryn threw her fistful of flour on the counter and clapped her hands clean. Feeling triumphant, she opened the oven door, but quickly shut it again.
“What’s the matter?” Errol said with a knowing grin.
“They’re not ready yet.”
“That’s impossible. They’ve been in there the full eight minutes.” He reached for the oven door.
“I said they’re not ready.” Putting her hand over his she tried to keep him from opening the door.
“Another few minutes won’t salvage your disaster, Taryn.” He opened the door and smiled as he pulled out the cookie sheet. “Perhaps when I mentioned that I wanted them crispy and not crunchy, I should have also mentioned that I wanted them golden… not tarred.”
She looked at the unappetizing result of her inspiration. “Sorry.”
His eyes hardened with displeasure. “I think you can take your apron off now,” he said in a tone that nearly demolished her. “You’re finished here.”
“Errol…” She hesitated a moment, remembering she’d not put on a bra under her cami that morning. Another harsh glare from Errol, however, and she untied her apron, pulled it over her head and set it on the counter. “I was only trying to…”
He put up a silencing finger.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“On the contrary. I want you to stay and learn.”
He set the cookie sheet on the stove and reached for the bottle of molasses. Turning the bottle over, he read the label then tilted the bottle one side and the other, letting the thick liquid run along the walls of the bottle.
Watching him, she tried to gauge his mood. Was he truly disappointed in the result? Angry even? Or was he toying with her?
With a quick sniff in the air, he looked into the saucepan she’d used then dipped his finger into the buttery molasses. He looked at it, smelled it then tasted it. Without saying a word, he wiped his finger off on a towel then uncapped the bottle and smelled it.
As if looking for something, he ran his finger along the edge of the bottle cleaning off the few sticky drops that remained. He licked his finger, flapping his lips together as he tasted. “I guess there is a certain…” He puckered and swished his tongue around his mouth. “A certain je ne sais quoi about the flavor of molasses.”
“Just because they look a little funny doesn’t mean they won’t taste good,” Taryn said with complete lack of conviction. “Why don’t you try…?”
Errol put his hand up to quiet her and continued to examine the bottle of molasses. “Dark, sticky, sweet,” he murmured. He turned the bottle upside down and let a large dollop drop over his fingers.
Glaring at her, he held up his molasses covered fingers. “Do you see how utterly opaque this is?”
“Yes,” she muttered.
“You can’t even see my fingers through this black goo.”
“I thought that, maybe, with the melted butter it would…”
“Honey is golden and translucent. Maple syrup is amber and clear. But this…?”
“I’ll be sure never to make the same mistake again.”
Without warning, Errol reached out and slathered the molasses over her chest from one shoulder to the other.
“I want you to remember this day, Taryn.”
“I will.” She glanced down. The molasses had already reached the top of her white cami. She didn’t know whether she should feel humiliated or infuriated.
He brought the bottle above her heaving breasts and let the thick dark liquid slide into her cami. “I want you to remember how molasses looks… how it feels.”
Saying nothing, she felt the sticky liquid make its slow descent between her breasts.
“How does it feel, Taryn?” His voice had dropped to a deep, smoldering tone.
“Wet,” she whispered.
He brought the bottle up to her shoulder and poured the remaining content.
“Wet and…?”
“Sticky.”
Licking his lips, he set the bottle down on the counter and scrutinized her. “Wet, sticky, and…?”
She looked at him, looked into his eyes and tried to see… What did he want from her?
“Wet, sticky, and…?” he repeated.
“Sweet?” she ventured.
He brought his hand to her shoulder and rubbed the molasses over her skin. With dainty fingers, he pulled up the thin straps of her cami and let them fall over her shoulders. His hands continued to work the black syrup around and around. “You hardly look sweet, my dear.”
His voice had turned husky, almost dark and Taryn knew the game had changed. It was no longer a matter of an angry professor berating a clumsy student, or the irate chef degrading his assistant.
The temperature in the room suddenly rose, as did Taryn’s chest as it heaved with labored breaths. Her breasts were on alert, her nipples nudging relentlessly at the thin fabric of her cami.
“No, my dear…” Errol took a hold of the straps of her cami once more and pulled them down past her elbows, exposing her breasts as he did so. He let out a brief gasp of excitement, but quickly contained himself. With hooded eyes and parted lips, he brought his sticky, black hands over her breasts, covering them until they were glossy. “You are dirty. You are exquisitely dirty.”
Taryn swallowed the ball of confusion that nearly left her drooling. Her body cried out with so many conflicting messages, she didn’t know how to react. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to touch her like this, and she should stop him.
But his hands… She inhaled, pressing her breasts further into his hands, hands that were warm, hands that were gentle, hands that made her feel…
“Do you feel dirty, Taryn?”
Her lips parted and her tongue toyed with the notion of coming out, but not to speak. There were no words. Her tongue wanted him, wanted to taste him.
His thumbs flickered over her erect nipples, and Taryn let out a wanton groan as a pulsating wave of ecstasy gathered between her thighs.
“Yes,” he sighed. “You do feel dirty, don’t you?”
He brought his hands to the small of her back, bringing her closer. The slight pressure of his hands arched her back, making it easier for him to sweep his mouth over her breast. The tip of his tongue circled around, slow and teasing as it licked off some of the molasses.
Groaning from deep in his throat, he leaned back to look at his handiwork. He licked his lips and tilted his head to the side as he looked at her.
Taryn looked down at her milky white breast, now clearly visible under the thinned veil of black sugar. She swallowed the lump of uncertainty as she met Errol’s gaze. Something playful lingered in his gaze, teasing… almost mocking.
“I think I should…” Taryn choked out as she considered putting an end to this game.
Before she could finish her thought, Errol leaned in and licked the underside of her breast, this time using the full breadth of his tongue. He swept his tongue over her nipple and onward to her collar bone. But it was her nipple who begged for more attention.
“Errol,” she groaned. Her head fell back as her fingers raked through his hair and led him back to her nipple.
He obliged, and suckled; hard and pulling one moment; gentle and teasing the next. Taryn reached back to lean against the counter as he traveled through the valley of her breasts to assault the other nipple. Her legs were about to give out on
her as an explosion of sensations threatened to bubble over.
Breathless, Errol pulled back, his face smeared in black. The playfulness was gone and his eyes reflected the urgency they both felt. He looked down at her breasts and brought his hands around her waist to smudge molasses along her belly.
“Beautiful,” he muttered. He reached for the fastenings of her jeans and quickly peeled them off. “Beautiful.”
Her cotton underwear were damp with want and she felt a blush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks. Would he think her odd or strange because she had such a lack of control over her body?
With a soiled finger, he pulled back the top elastic band of her panties and looked inside. “The more I discover of you the more beautiful you get.” He shoved both hands in and reached around to grab her ass. “I think we’ve gotten ourselves into a real sticky mess,” he whispered as he leaned into her, burying his face into her folds and licking her with long savoring strokes.
Taryn arched her back and push her pelvis closer to him, clenching her teeth to keep from screaming with pleasure. Errol’s tongue devouring her, his teeth grazing against her sensitive nub was sending her to a point she’d never experienced before…to a point she no longer had any control of her body. She convulsed, shuddered, and shook with an intense pressure of pleasure, it rocked her to the core. “Oh God, Errol,” she cried.
“So responsive,” Errol grinned, looking up at her where he was now lightly stroking her with his long fingers. “And so beautifully dirty.”
“Like I was trying to say earlier,” she finally managed to utter between breaths and shudders. “I think I should take a shower.”
“Good idea,” Errol said, tearing off the remainder of her clothes.
He looked down his molasses-soiled shirt and strip down to nothing except his hardness, and said, “There is no way I’m not joining you in the showers now.”
Chapter 9
Before the alarm clock went off, Taryn was awakened by a subtle but insistent movement in the bed. It was Errol who nudged his hard erection against her backside. Smiling, she cracked her eyes open, eager to have him take her again.
“I should be sated,” he whispered into her ear. “I should be exhausted, but I don’t think I can stop wanting more of you.”
The night had indeed been exhausting.
After a long and titillating shower, Errol had sat her on the bathroom counter and gently parted her legs. With bated breath, she’d watched him, intrigued… eager. He’d already brought her such wondrous sensations with his mouth and fingers while he washed her in the shower. What more did he have in store?
But she could never have imagined the sensations to come. Errol brought his mouth, warm and wet, to a heavenly little nub of flesh she’d never known existed until that night. Stunned by the initial sensation, so intense, so pleasurable, Taryn let out a small cry of surprise, grabbed the edge of the counter and leaned back.
“Oh, my God,” she let out as he continued to run his tongue along the flesh that was now so exquisitely alive. “Oh, Errol.”
“Oh!” Her cry, foreign and feral, echoed in the bathroom as her body was elevated to a level of pleasure that seemed impossible. She hovered there for a moment, an exquisite moment of breathlessness, of waiting for the ultimate.
Errol gripped her hips, tight and fierce as his tongue made the final assault. With one long, slow, delicious lick, Taryn’s body exploded in a rapture of ecstasy. She dug her fingers into his hair, keeping his mouth pressed to hers as her body moved, convulsed with a will of its own. Her legs straightened out, down to the tips of her toes.
Before her body could stop throbbing, Errol straightened up and plunged his erection deep inside her, filling her. Her eyes widened as a short, sharp pain cut into her pleasure, then subsided, replaced by the feeling of fullness and intense sensation of him rocking in and out of her until he came, groaning with his release.
Now, as she lay beside him, the heat of his body warming hers, she longed to relive every stroke, every lick, and every tantalizingly fucking again.
Errol slid his hand between her thighs and quickly aroused her. “I don’t want to push you to do too much too fast.”
After that first, quick romp in the bathroom, they’d made love again, slower and longer. They’d finally fallen asleep in each others’ arms, only to awaken a few hours later when they began anew. Insatiable for each other, and wanting this from the first day they met.
“Then let me push you.” She turned to face him then rose to straddle him.
He cocked a brow of interest as he watched her. “My innocent virgin, do you know what to do up there?”
“I’ll figure it out,” she said with a teasing lick of her lips.
With an intense gaze fixed on her inner thighs, Errol propped himself up on a pillow, clasped his fingers together and brought them behind his head.
Suddenly self-conscious, Taryn wondered if she’d not taken on more than she could handle. Uncertain of her moves, she nestled over his hardness. Though she longed to have him inside her, simply gliding over the length of him brought her a degree of pleasure.
She looked at Errol to gauge his appreciation. His eyes narrowed and his tongue played on the edge of his lips, but he remained somewhat aloof.
For a moment she considered abandoning all efforts, but her body wasn’t quite ready to let go just yet. If there was one thing she’d learned over the course of the night, it was the intense pleasure of an orgasm and how to attain it. With slow, methodical movements, she sought her own pleasure, using her fingers to tease her nipples, while she glided over him repeatedly, sliding back and forth over the length of his erection, causing him to groan. The rising crescendo of her orgasm came quickly, surprisingly quick. Closing her eyes, she leaned back and let the waves of her orgasm sweep over her.
“You’re being selfish,” Errol accused in a throaty voice that dripped with arousal. He reached up to grab her breasts, his fingers hungry, almost angry. “Don’t toy with me. I’ve waited too long to thoroughly fuck you. I’m still not through with you yet.”
Still riding the ebbing ripples of her ecstasy, she looked at him and murmured, “I don’t want to push you to do too much, too fast.”
“Never.” With a force and speed that surprised her, he gripped her by the waist, threw her back on the bed and mounted her, driving deep until she let out a guttural moan. With savage thrusts he pounded out his need, gripping her breasts, while rotating his hips with each stroke, groaning loudly like a beast. Her head was spinning with the unbelievable ecstasy of him filling her to the brink, only to empty out and plunge back in, each stroke bringing her almost to the brink of climax. With one final earth-shattering thrust, he quickly erupted inside her, filling her, while she climaxed, shuddering all around her. He kissed her savagely on her lips, gripping her breasts as he plucked her nipples, and said, “Mine.”
After a surprisingly brief amount of time, he rose. “Time to get to school.” Without looking back at her, he headed to the shower.
Taryn remained in bed, letting the sensations fade away, but as they did, reality set it. For a long moment she sat mulling over the more serious implications of their night together. She’d abandoned all concern for the consequences and had allowed the pleasures of her body to take priority. Now she faced them head on.
“Aren’t you going to get ready?” Errol said as he emerged from the bathroom, damp and glistening in all his glory.
“Oh God, Errol. We didn’t…we didn’t use precaution. What if I get pregnant?” she asked.
“You won’t,” he called out.
“You’ve had so many lovers, what if I catch something from you?”
He walked out, dressed in charcoal slacks and a white shirt. Occupied with the knotting of his tie, he didn’t look up at her. “I won’t give you anything.”
“How do you know?”
Making the final adjustments on his tie, he looked at her, his eyes hooded with boredom. “Because I know. I�
��m clean. I live cleanly, and I’m tested, but I’m not going into that now. Now get up and get dressed. You’re late.”
Unsatisfied with his answer, she got out of bed and took a quick shower. By the time she came out, he was gone.
Chapter 10
“If you look at this plate, what do you see?” Errol stood at the front of the class, a cellophane covered dish on the desk in front of him.
Seething as she’d gotten out of her taxi, she’d hoped to have a chance to berate him for leaving her in such a way. She might be innocent when it came to such games, but she wasn’t about to let him treat her like some… some slut. It’d taken every French swear word she could think of to get the driver to hurry up, all so she could run into the school breathless and slip into class in the nick of time.
His gaze briefly darted to her when she entered, but he was otherwise the professional she’d come to know in class.
“Pureed potatoes,” one student called out.
“Shredded chicken in a creamy sauce,” other one said.
“Those look like overcooked carrots.”
“And all together, what do you have?” Errol asked.
“Dinner at my grandmother’s house,” one bold student dared.
Errol grinned. “Right. A plate of mush… bland mush at that.” Clasping his hands together he came around his desk and leaned back, crossing his long legs out in front of him.
Taryn tried not to imagine the heated moments they’d shared that morning and tried to concentrate on what he said.
“Today we’re going to look at textures, colors and even shapes as we bring a plate together.”
Finally able to bring her thoughts to the task at hand, Taryn took notes and managed to be attentive throughout the class. Only when Errol, strolling among the students, came to pass behind her and gently brush his hand along her rear end did she falter.
She was excited to see she still interested him, but could have slapped him for risking such a move right there in class.
“Chef King.” The dual supremacy of his name echoed in the air as Taryn called out to him at the end of the lesson. As the class emptied, she made her way to his desk. “I hope you’ll understand how important this all is to me.”